ankles and wrists, ran through the streets of Andros, ignoring the pain, spurred on by adrenaline as he thought of only one thing: saving Kyra. Her cry for help echoed in his mind, his soul, made him forget his injuries as he sprinted through the streets, sweating, toward the sound.
Duncan twisted and turned down Andros’ narrow alleyways, knowing Kyra lay just beyond those thick stone walls. All around him the dragons dove, setting fire to street after street, the tremendous heat radiating off the walls, so hot that Duncan could feel it even on the far side of the stone. He hoped and prayed they did not descend to his alley – or else, he would be finished.
Despite the pain, Duncan did not stop. Nor did he turn around. He could not. Driven by a father’s instinct, he physically could not go anywhere but toward the sound of his daughter. It crossed his mind that he was running to his death, losing any chance he’d have of escape, yet it did not slow him. His daughter was trapped, and that was all that mattered to him now.
“NO!” came the cry.
Duncan’s hair stood on end. There it was again, her shriek, and his heart received a jolt at the sound. He sprinted faster, giving it all he had, turning down yet another alleyway.
Finally, as he turned again, he burst through a low, stone arch, and the sky opened before him.
Duncan found himself in an open courtyard, and as he stood at its edge, he was stunned at the sight before him. Flames filled the far side of the courtyard as dragons criss-crossed the air, breathing down, and beneath a stone ledge, barely shielded from all the fire, sat his daughter.
Kyra.
There she was, in the flesh, alive.
Even more shocking than seeing her here, alive, was seeing the baby dragon lying beside her. Duncan stared, confused by the sight. At first he assumed Kyra was struggling to kill a dragon that had fallen from the sky. But then he saw that the dragon was pinned down by a boulder. He was puzzled as he saw Kyra shoving at it. What, he wondered, was she trying to do? Free a dragon? Why?
“Kyra!” he shrieked.
Duncan sprinted across the open courtyard, avoiding columns of flame, avoiding the swipe of a dragon’s talon, still running until finally he reached his daughter’s side.
As he did, Kyra looked up and her face fell in shock. And then joy.
“Father!” she called.
She ran into his arms, and Duncan embraced her, as she embraced him back. As he held her in his arms, he felt restored again, as if a part of himself had returned.
Tears of joy ran down his cheeks. He could hardly believe Kyra was really here, and alive.
She clutched him and he clutched her, and he was relieved most of all, as he felt her shaking in his arms, that she was uninjured.
Remembering, he pushed her back, turned to the dragon, drew his sword, and raised it, about to chop off the dragon’s head to protect his daughter.
“No!” Kyra shrieked.
She stunned Duncan by rushing forward and grabbing his wrist, her grip surprisingly strong, and holding back his blow. This was not the meek daughter he had left behind in Volis; she was clearly a warrior now.
Duncan looked back at her, baffled.
“Do not harm him,” she commanded, her voice confident, the voice of a warrior. “Theon is my friend.”
Duncan looked at her, stunned.
“Your friend?” he asked. “A dragon?”
“Please, Father,” she said, “there is little time to explain. Help us. He is pinned down. I cannot remove this boulder alone.”
Duncan, as shocked as he was, trusted her. He sheathed his sword, came up beside her, and pushed at the boulder with all his might. Yet, try as he did, it barely budged.
“It’s too heavy,” he said. “I can’t. I am sorry.”
Suddenly, there came the rattling of armor behind him and Duncan turned and was overjoyed to see Aidan, Anvin, Cassandra, and White all rush forward. They had come back for him, had risked their lives, too, once again.
Without hesitating, they all ran right up to the boulder and pushed.
It rolled a bit, but still they could not get it off.
There came the sound of gasping, and Duncan turned to see Motley rushing to catch up with the others, out of breath. He joined them, throwing his weight into the boulder – and this time, it began to really roll. Motley, the actor, the overweight fool, the one they had expected the least of, made the difference in getting the boulder off the dragon.
With one last heave it landed with a crash, in a cloud of dust, and the dragon was free.
Theon jumped to his feet and screeched, arching his back, extending his talons. In fury, he looked up at the sky. A big purple dragon had spotted them, was diving down right for them, and Theon, without pausing, leapt into the air, opened his jaws, and flew straight up, locking on the soft jugular of the unsuspecting dragon.
Theon held on with all his might. The huge dragon shrieked in fury, thrown off guard, clearly not expecting as much from the baby dragon, and the two of them went smashing down into a stone wall on the far side of the courtyard.
Duncan and the others exchanged a look of shock as Theon wrestled the dragon, refusing to let go of the squirming big dragon, pinning it down on the far side of the courtyard. Theon, ferocious, writhed, snarling, and did not let go until the much larger dragon finally went limp.
For a moment, they all had a respite.
“Kyra!” Aidan called out.
Kyra looked down and noticed her little brother, and Duncan watched with joy as Aidan ran into Kyra’s arms. She embraced him, while White jumped up and licked Kyra’s palms, clearly thrilled.
“My brother,” Kyra gushed, her eyes filled with tears. “You are alive.”
Duncan could hear the relief in her voice.
Aidan’s eyes suddenly lowered in sadness.
“Brandon and Braxton are dead,” he announced to Kyra.
Kyra paled. She turned and looked to Duncan, and he nodded in solemn confirmation.
Suddenly Theon flew up and landed before them, flapping his wings and gesturing for Kyra to climb on his back. Duncan heard the roars high above, and he looked up to see them all circling, preparing to dive.
To Duncan’s awe, Kyra mounted Theon. There she sat, atop a dragon, strong, fierce, having all the poise of a great warrior. Gone was the little girl he had once known; she had been replaced by a proud warrior, a woman who could command legions. He had never felt more pride until this day.
“We have no time. Come with me,” she said to them. “All of you. Join me.”
They all looked at each other in surprise, and Duncan felt a pit in his stomach at the idea of riding a dragon, especially as it snarled down at them.
“Hurry!” she said.
Duncan, seeing the flock of dragons descending and knowing they had little choice, jumped into action. He hurried with Aidan, Anvin, Motley, Cassandra, Septin and White, as they all leapt onto the dragon’s back.
He clutched the heavy, ancient scales, marveling that he was really sitting on the back of a dragon. It was like a dream.
He held on with all he had as the dragon lifted into the air. His stomach lightened, and he could hardly believe the feeling. For the first time in his life, he was flying in the air, above the streets, faster than he had ever been.
Theon, faster than them all, flew just above the streets, twisting and turning, so fast the other dragons could not reach him amidst all the confusion and dust of the capital. Duncan looked down and was amazed to see the city from above, to see the tops of buildings, the winding streets laid out like a maze below.
Kyra directed Theon brilliantly, and Duncan was so proud of his daughter, so amazed that she was able to control