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Behind us, Vorago roared. I fired a third bolt. This one struck home, skidding along Vorago’s flank and tearing open a wide gash. Vorago screamed, the sound so loud it rattled me. I sucked in a breath, fired again, missed again. It continued this way, less than a third of my shots landing. The wind was vicious, and Vorago was fast.
I can do this. Panic swelled. I fired again—the bolt hit home, ripping open the same wound, tearing the flesh wider. “Yes!” I cried aloud.
That’s enough, Nyxaris declared. Now we go back. He turned.
Vorago surged forward, jaws snapping eagerly. I screamed as I felt the heat of his breath wash over us and saw the flames rushing up. Nyxaris twisted at the last possible second, wings clipping the air as my stomach lurched violently. My crossbow forgotten for now, I clung to him as he descended quickly, flying low and hard toward Bloodwing—exactly as we’d planned. The towers loomed ahead of us. The sea rushed up from below, and I saw the beach. This was it. We only had one chance.
I glanced back. Vorago hadn’t caught up. Was it my imagination, or had his wings faltered slightly?
He weakens, Nyxaris crowed. Do you see it? He slows.
I held my breath as we flew past Medra. She fired. Bolts streamed up from below. Vorago shrieked in shock as emberfern arrows penetrated his flank. He twisted wildly. Theo next, farther along the beach. The only reason I could see him was because I knew where to look. Bolts flew. He missed. Missed again.
Oh no, I breathed.
Visha was our last chance. With Vorago still on our tail, Nyxaris flew as slowly as he was able, just out of the reach of dragon fire.
No! Nyxaris snarled. The idiot girl.
I should have known Visha wouldn’t hesitate. She’d stood up, leaving the sanctuary of the rocks she was supposed to be hiding behind, her crossbow raised. She sprinted across the beach, coming as close as she could as we flew over. I swiveled around to watch. Visha planted her feet and fired. One bolt had sunk deep.
My heart soared. She did it, I told Nyxaris. Another flew and landed beside the other. That’s it! I exclaimed. That has to be enough.
Behind us, Vorago let out a scream of agony and rage, still close behind us. He’d passed Visha, and I let out a breath. For one wild hopeful moment, I thought he hadn’t seen her at all, that he was too focused on us to have noticed the highblood girl standing alone on the sand. Then the red dragon banked—hard. He turned around with a roar that split the air and swung back toward the beach.
Nyxaris! I gasped. Visha.
Nyxaris was already turning. Visha ran, sprinting down the shoreline, boots pounding against the wet sand, as Vorago flew toward her, swooping down low. His jaws opened and fire poured out, a sheet of red death that chased Visha. She dove, throwing herself forward and rolling into the water as the sand exploded with dragon fire just where she’d been. The heat slapped me in the face even from the air.
Nyxaris roared and then dropped down like a comet, fire erupting from his throat and slamming into Vorago’s side from behind. I sucked in my breath. We hadn’t wanted it to come to this. We all knew what the risk was, but Inferni were well-near indestructible—and if we were going to help Blake, we had to bring Vorago down.
Now Nyxaris didn’t hesitate. His flames struck exactly where the emberfern bolts had already lodged. Vorago shrieked—a sound so full of pain my teeth ached. He twisted violently in midair, his flight suddenly stuttering and uneven. He banked to face us. Everything slowed.
We were so close I could see Vorago’s teeth—massive and white, lit up by the flames behind them. His neck was coiled as his jaw opened. His body was aligned for the kill. He was going to bite Nyxaris. He was going to rip out his throat.
I screamed as my body braced for the impact. Suddenly Vorago veered away, not gracefully or cleanly, but like a ball yanked off course by an invisible chain. His body tilted. His flight was suddenly haphazard and wrong.
My heart lifted. Nyxaris, look! I clutched him, laughter and tears bursting out at the same time. It worked. It worked! Can you speak to him? Can you reach Blake?
Nyxaris didn’t answer. I tried to be patient, knew he must be reaching out, trying to communicate with the other dragon, still checking for traces of Vorago. My heart pounded with hope. This was it. This was the moment. The emberfern was working. Surely Blake could push back now and take control.
Something is wrong. The concern in Nyxaris’s voice made my stomach drop. I cannot reach him.
Before I could reply, something hissed through the air just in front of my face with a sharp, slicing sound.
What was that? My mind was still on Blake. A bird?
Nyxaris froze. Not a bird. Get down. Now. As low as you can. Hold on—
But it was too late. Pain exploded along my side. I looked down to see the bolt protruding from my ribs, just as Nyxaris let out a roar of pain. He turned sharply, heading out toward open water, clearly intending to get me away from the island. Another bolt struck me. This one knocked the breath from my lungs. The world tipped.
Fireheart, what have they done to you? Speak to me.
I tried to open my mouth, but I couldn’t. I felt my grip failing. I blinked, trying to focus. It was no use. I felt myself slide, felt scales tear from my hands as I slipped free.
Fireheart! Nyxaris roared.
The sky spun.