Forged by Magic (Falling for Fables, #1)(80)
Only moments passed before the village came into view before us. Clusters of timber homes were nestled in the small hills that rolled toward the shoreline in the distance. A snakelike river cut through the forest and fed into the lake near the cove, the water sparkling beneath the sun. I smiled as we dipped closer and the sight of the Midsummer celebration arrived in all its splendor. There were streamers and paper lanterns everywhere, and children danced through the tall grass with flowers in their hair.
Screams peppered the air as we drew closer, and I spotted several faces turned up at us in horror.
I leaned forward and whispered, “Gently now. Let’s show them they have nothing to fear. And that you are the grandest beast of the air.”
Air, the final element and the final trial of the Midsummer Games. And I did not need even a speck of my Vindur sand when I had something as majestic as a dragon.
Aska slowed as she glided above the crowd that was slowly clustering around the empty stage. We swept by once, then turned and sailed past one final time before angling back toward the shoreline in the distance. I had to hope it had been enough, that they understood why I was here. There was little else I could do other than land and explain, but I worried some might take that as another attack. Was Mabel down there? Could she possibly explain to them that I—
A strange flash of red from the Boundless Sea snagged my attention. I lifted my eyes from the celebration to scan the choppy waves. In the distance, dozens of crimson boats from Emperor Isveig’s armada sailed across the stretch of blue—and they were headed straight toward Hearthaven. I sucked in a sharp breath, my blood freezing.
Isveig had found us.
Aska slowed as if she felt my sudden uncertainty, but I barely noticed, too focused on the approaching ships. My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. Weeks ago, Rivelin had warned this might happen, that Isveig might come after me. Yet I’d dismissed those fears.
But even seeing it now, it felt impossible. So horribly, heart-wrenchingly impossible. The Elding had shifted to another island, leaving Hearthaven exposed.
I scanned the ships. There were so many—too many—but it would only take one to conquer this island. These folk were not fighters. They would not stand a chance against the army that was coming for them.
Tears burned my eyes at the thought of the battles and the blood, the wreckage left behind by Isveig’s army. He had already destroyed so much.
I tightened my grip on Aska’s tusk. I could not let him destroy this island, too.
Throwing all caution to the wind, I leaned forward and said, “We’re going to land now, Aska. Aim for the stage. If any of them react poorly to you, don’t fight back. Just drop me off and fly away. All right? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Aska rumbled in clear displeasure.
“If you do this, I’ll make sure you get an entire sack of Mabel’s treats.”
The dragon practically shimmied beneath me and emitted a sound that was an awful lot like a purr. Instantly, she twisted and dove toward the stage. I ground my teeth and clutched the tusk, regretting my decision to metaphorically dangle the treats in front of her face.
More screams rent the air as Aska thundered onto the stage, the wood creaking beneath her. Dirt and leaves sprayed into the air, a whirlwind of earthen debris. I gingerly slid off Aska’s back and landed in a crouch on the shattered stage, then collected Rivelin’s jar—the only one remaining—from where it had toppled to the side. Quickly, I shoved the pebbles back inside.
I stood, clearing my throat, but kept my eyes locked on the glass jar at my feet. “As Rivelin has not formally withdrawn from the Midsummer Games, this is his entry for the Vindur Trial. He sent his assistant here on the back of his dragon as a beautiful demonstration of the power of air. You do not need to be afraid. She will not harm you.”
And then I lifted my eyes to the meadow. Hundreds of shocked faces stared back at me.
Mabel stood right in the front, one hand on her cane and the other clutching her heart. She beamed at me and waved. Just beside her, Hege, the dwarf candidate who had withdrawn, walked forward, her steps purposeful. When she reached the stage, she shot me a wink and dropped two pebbles into the jar.
“Viggo should have known better than to go up against an orc. Glad you’re back, Daella.” Then she moved back to the crowd, where her wife, Nina, was waiting for her. The pixie gave me an encouraging smile.
Confused, I scanned the crowd. Some of the spectators looked surprised, yes, but no one was screaming or crying or fleeing from the meadow—from me. In fact, more were moving toward the stage now with their final pebble in their hands. I’d expected them to hate and fear me after everything that had happened, and yet they were acting as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
As elves and dwarves and humans edged forward to add their vote to the jar, Haldor wandered over from the merchant stalls. His hands were slung into his pockets, and he wore an easy smile. All the tension he’d held in his body the last time I’d seen him was gone. And he didn’t seem at all bothered that a fire-breathing dragon now squatted on the stage.
“Daella,” he said, his tone friendly. “I see Rivelin must have found you.”
“You knew he was searching for me?”
“Of course I did. As soon as Mabel helped him figure out what Viggo was up to, he came straight to me and Odel. We’re a team, you know. Or at least, that’s how I’ve always wanted it to be. Riv hasn’t always been keen to share things with us. Seems he’s changed a bit, for the better.”