Dragonlands(264)

Tressa’s jaws opened wide, as she roared, her teeth glinting. With little effort she raised one taloned foot. Stomping as hard as she could, Tressa smashed Jarrett under her foot. Pulling back, she looked at his body with one slitted eye. His chest lay still. His lips parted in a grimace.

A Blue dragon landed next to Tressa. He reached over, nuzzling her neck. Connor had wanted to kill Jarrett. Instead, Bastian had given his life for them. A group of men dressed in black descended on Jarrett’s body, their swords drawn, as a one-eyed man in gray stood off to the side. So the Black Guard had come and brought a mystery friend with them. She would let them determine Jarrett’s fate.

Tressa burst into the sky, dodging falling body parts, but unable to avoid the showers of blood. Drenched in thick bodily fluids, she flew higher and higher until she could see the battle from above.

Red, Black, Green, and one Yellow blurred in the air. Entangled. Vicious. Her dragon head snapped back, looking again at the fray.

She scanned the battle, looking for only one dragon. The Red Queen. She was the reason they were fighting. She had equipped Tressa's father with the means to kidnap the villagers of Hutton's Bridge. She provoked the Yellow into sealing off the Meadowlands. She sent the Red dragons to attack the Black.

Tressa wanted to chop off the head and see if the body flailed or continued to fight. All she needed was the queen. A bird flew by, cawing, drawing Tressa's eyes to the east. She blinked. Far away in the distance something coasted. Something with a faint tint of red.

Without another thought, she pushed off, flapping her wings as hard as she could toward the spot in the distance. No matter how hard she pushed, it didn't seem to get any closer. Tressa tucked her back legs up tightly against her chest. Her wings flapped in unison, cupping the breeze under them, using every tiny advantage she could get.

The Red dot drew closer and closer until Tressa could see the dragon wasn't alone. A rider was on its back, gray hair streaming like a flag in a storm. She hunched over her dragon, lying low.

The rider's head turned.

Tressa snorted, plumes of smoke from her nostrils. She blinked again, and the rider's grin punched her in the gut.

She knew that grin. That hair. It was Granna.

But how? Why?

Tressa followed the dragon with all of her strength, refusing to believe what she saw. If she could only get closer. Take a better look...

The Red dragon banked to the right, descending toward the castle in the distance. Tressa had been so focused on the dragon and its rider that she'd neglected to notice they'd flown all the way to the Red castle in the northeast part of the Hills of Flame. It must have taken hours. No matter. She was so close.

Spires rose into the clouds, protruding spikes ripping the vapor to shreds. The sun was setting behind them, and bats circled, celebrating the coming darkness.

The Red dragon flew past a window too small for a dragon. The rider jumped through. Tressa followed, saying a little prayer to whatever gods might be listening that she would not miss the window and fall to her death.

Taking a deep breath, Tressa changed from dragon to human. Her hands reached out as she fell through the air, scrabbling for the windowsill. One hand grasped it, fingers slamming on stone, nails digging into the rubble. A shriek ripped from her throat as she pulled up with one arm, desperately willing the second to join it. Biting her lower lip, Tressa called upon all the muscles she'd honed while training for the Black Guard. With one final burst, she flung her arm up. Her fingertips grazed the edge of the sill, falling short.

Tears sprang unbidden from her eyes. Now wasn't the time for weakness. She closed her eyes and let go, hoping her dragon form wouldn't fail her.

Something grabbed her wrist, pulling her up.

Tressa's eyes snapped open. A kindly face appeared from the window above. A woman who looked exactly like Granna, but with green eyes instead of blue. Even though she appeared as old as Granna, her strength belied her age. The woman gave one tug, yanking Tressa up high enough that she could grab hold with her other arm. Tressa heaved herself the rest of the way up and over the sill.

Tressa rested only for a moment before sitting up and gazing at the woman before her.

"Who are you?" Tressa asked.

"I am One."

Tressa didn't appreciate the cryptic answer. Still, she held back her anger. The woman had saved her, after all.

"What is your name?" Tressa asked, hoping the more direct question would yield a solid answer.

"I am the Queen of the Red. I am One. I have no name." The woman stood still, her arms hanging limply at her sides. The smile on her face was too familiar, making Tressa's skin crawl. The queen might have looked like her great-grandmother upon first glance, but they were not the same woman.