“Isn’t there just one? Orcs.”
“No. Orcs and…？”
I searched my mind for an answer, but there was only one thing it could be.
“And dragons?” I asked, my heart sinking. “So what you told the others is true, then. Orcs and dragons are somehow related.”
“Orcs were first forged in dragon flames. That’s how they came to be. My late husband, who was an orc himself, had an ancient tome that chronicled the entire history of his people, and all that was in it. Unfortunately, it went missing when Isveig attacked our town.”
I paced from the sofa to the armchair. “If that’s true, then why don’t you believe Daella was involved in the dragon attack on Godfrey’s home? Having a connection to the dragons means she’s the only one who could have done it.”
Deep down, my hope had lingered this past week. A desperate part of me wanted to believe this whole thing had been a colossal, horrible mistake. I’d spent the past six days trying to patch together a way Daella could be innocent, but I always came up empty. Nothing else made sense. All signs pointed her way, and she had run.
“This was in the book, too. No one can order a dragon to attack unless they’ve formed a Draugr bond with them,” she said. “Unlike other folk, orcs don’t need Fildur sand to do that. That said, if Daella had, you would know.”
“All right. How?”
She stared at me intently for a moment, then said, “That ice shard would no longer be a problem. The magic of the bond would counteract it to keep her safe. Dragonfire can be a wondrous thing.”
I searched her gaze, taken aback. “How in fate’s name do you know about Isveig’s ice shard?”
“Haldor told me. I’m fairly certain he told a few others, too.”
“Of course he did. You can’t say anything in this village without it turning into gossip.” I sighed and ran my hand down my face, thinking. “Let’s consider all this true. If Daella didn’t order the dragon to attack Godfrey’s house, who did?”
“Now, see, here’s where I might need your help. I had a poke around the remains of Godfrey’s house after the embers died. There was an awful lot of Vatnor sand scattered around everywhere. It no longer has any magic to it now, of course, ‘cause of the dragonfire. I reckon Reykur caught scent of it and came to destroy it out of fear. Dragons don’t much like Vatnor sand. It’s one of the few things in this world that can kill them.”
I sat hard on the arm of the sofa. Viggo had used some sand to stop the fire, but it had only been a few grains. “You’re saying someone scattered Vatnor sand all over Godfrey’s house to tempt a dragon to destroy it?”
“That’s the long and short of it, yes.”
Shaking my head, I dropped my head into my hands. I wanted to believe her, but I didn’t see how I could. “Daella still could have done all that with the right motivation. She’s ignored her allergic reaction to water before.”
“You mean when she leapt into the lake to save someone’s life?” Mabel said with a snap to her tone. “You are dear to me, Rivelin, but I need you to pull your head out of your ass.”
I sat up a little straighter, caught off guard by her bluntness.
She continued, “You two have been joined at the hip for weeks. When would she have gone hunting for Vatnor sand? Where would she have even found it? It’s not as if it’s scattered around everywhere like dirt. Think about what you’re saying.”
The blood drained from my face as her words sank in. In the days preceding the attack, Daella and I had spent almost every waking moment together. We’d worked the forge during the day and passed the evenings on the rooftop, sharing stories and watching the sun ease behind Mount Forge. Then when darkness came, we’d sat by the hearth with our mugs of tea just enjoying each other’s company. We’d barely spent a moment apart. She could have tried sneaking out the front door after we’d both gone to bed, but I had never been a heavy sleeper. The sound of the creaking floor beneath her feet would have woken me.
But what was more, where would she have gotten all that Vatnor sand, even if she had tried to find it? There was only one person on this island I’d ever seen carrying a pouch of it around. And the dragon had taken a brief interest in him.
Viggo.
“Daella didn’t do it,” I murmured.
“Ah, that’s a good lad.” Mabel hobbled over and patted me on the back. “Took a while, but you got there.”
I closed my eyes. “I’ve failed her.”
“Pull yourself together,” she chided. “And go get your woman.”
34
DAELLA
T he dragon took off through the trees. Her extraordinary body shoved through the canopy and exploded out the other side in a whirlwind of sticks and leaves. The dark, thunderous sky enveloped us.
I held on, gritting my teeth against the ferocity of the wind. Aska spun to the left while keeping low above the forest. When her claws skimmed the canopy, she swooped higher, closer to the pregnant clouds. I realized the break in rain had been just that—a break—and she was taking me away from danger before the torrent began anew.
True fear rattled inside me when I risked a glance below. I caught glimpses of the ground through the trees. It was so very far away. One wrong move, and I’d be dead from the fall. Still, the exhilarating magic rushed through me and burned my fear away. I lifted my eyes and gazed forward at the sky opening up before me.
I could see for miles. The verdant forest rolled toward the gentle foothills clustered at the base of the jagged mountain range, backlit by the setting sun. Shades of gold and orange drenched the lands like strands of fire. There were no dark clouds near the mountains, no storm. Just three small dragons soaring through the humid skies.
A little quiver of unease went through me at the sight of them. Aska was clearly the gentler of the two I’d met so far, and she had sought me out likely because she remembered the time I’d offered her some treats. The others would not have that same connection to me, and after Reykur’s attack on Wyndale, I couldn’t be certain what I’d face.
Still, Aska carried on, soaring close to the others. The dragons bellowed and fell into formation behind her. I cast a glance over my shoulder, the wind biting my cheeks. Up close, they were as majestic as I’d remembered. Beautiful and fierce and strong, their scales glinting with unleashed fire.
When we neared the base of Mount Forge, Aska landed gently on a rocky ledge and strode inside the cave where Rivelin had first shown them to me. It was dimly lit inside, and the stench of dragons invaded all my senses and weighed on my exhausted, hungry body. Before I could make sense of it, my eyes grew heavy, and I sagged forward. I desperately tried to cling to consciousness, but the magic of this place pulled me under.
I awoke with a warm, leathery body enveloping mine. Jolting upright, I blinked at where the dragon’s sleeping form curled around me, like a cat protecting its young. Her breathing was slow and even, though her nostrils flared, as if scenting me. I noticed her skin, like mine, was covered in red welts. Guilt flashed through me. She was only hurt because of me.
I looked around the cave. Daylight splashed in from the world outside and revealed the three other dragons sleeping soundly all around me, their scaly bellies pointed up at the stone ceiling. Yesterday—or however long it had been—they’d seemed so impossibly large. But now, in the still quiet, it was clear they were nothing but youngsters. Something in my heart warmed at the sight of them, and magic crackled in my blood.