Chapter 35

DAELLA

Rivelin stared in astonishment when I hauled myself onto Aska’s back. I gave her neck a quick rub as she slowly climbed to her feet, rolling off the last remnants of sleep. The warmth of her body enveloped me like an old hug, like one I’d known all my life, almost as familiar as my mother’s had once been.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve done this,” Rivelin murmured, noting how easily I settled in to the seat carved into her scales. “How?”

“Aska found me lost in the woods when it was raining last night, and she brought me back here.” Smiling, I rubbed her neck again. “Turns out, dragons like it when you feed them.”

“I think it’s far more than that.”

“It seems Mabel was right. Orcs and dragons have a special connection.” It was still so wild to consider, the origin of the orcs. But it made sense. We had fire within our veins. We thrived in the summer sun. And Isveig hated us. He’d never told me more because he didn’t want me to know the truth.

“Run as fast as you can,” I told Rivelin. “I’ll meet you back in Wyndale.”

“Wait. What is it you plan to do, Daella? We need to get you on that ship.”

I smiled. “You asked me to trust you, and now I’m asking you to trust me. I’m going to win the fates-damned Games for you, but I’m going to need you to step back. And don’t try to argue with me about the ship. I’ll get there after I finish this.”

The muscles around his eyes tightened, but then he nodded and shifted away from the mouth of the cave. I smiled, leaned forward, and whispered into Aska’s ear, “Fly, my friend.”

She didn’t need any more encouragement than that. The dragon took off at a run and hurtled into the sky, soaring up toward the clouds. Her heavy wings pounded against the wind, and I clung to the tusk as she raced toward Wyndale. Below, the world was nothing more than a blur of brilliant greens and muddy browns, pockmarked by the violets and pinks and golden yellows of the flowers scattered across this beautiful island.

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.”

Something in my chest warmed, but the heat died just as quickly. “We have a problem, Haldor. I need you to declare that Rivelin has won the Games.”

He frowned. “I assume he’s on his way back, isn’t he? Don’t you want to wait for him?”

“There’s no time,” I insisted, dropping my voice to a soft whisper so that no one else could hear. “I just spotted Isveig’s ships heading this way. I need to say the words that will protect this island. Now.”

The fire demon’s face went pale, even his horns. “That would mean trusting you with the island’s gift.”

“I know. But I am not the enemy. He is.”

Haldor swallowed, then nodded, joining me on the stage. He clapped his hands to interrupt the crowd’s murmured conversation, and an eerie silence swept through the festival. Every face turned our way, and those near the base of the stage quickly added their votes to the jar and fell still.

“I think it’s safe to say that Rivelin and his assistant Daella, being the only contestants left and providing us all with quite the spectacle today—” The crowd cheered, interrupting Haldor’s speech. He held up his hands to hush them. “—are therefore the winners of this year’s Midsummer Games!”

If I’d thought the crowd was jubilant before, they were practically feral now. They cheered and danced and leapt through the air, spinning with wild abandon. A bard appeared from seemingly nowhere and jumped to the stage beside us, breaking out into an upbeat tune.

Hofsa pushed through the chaos and joined us. She lifted a wreath of wildflowers over my head and draped it around my neck before placing another like a crown on top of my hair. Then she handed me, almost reverently, a very small leather pouch.

I opened it up and looked inside, scenting it. At the bottom of the pouch were four grains of sand, each a different color. My heartbeat quickened. This was Galdur sand.

“What’s this for?” I asked her. “I thought you couldn’t find any sand on the Isles.”

“We seem to find four grains every year, one for each element. Go drop them in the well and ask the island for what you wish.”

Nodding, I clutched the pouch to my chest and mounted Aska’s back once more. Flying would be the quickest way to reach the well with the crowd as wild as it was. Moments later, we were airborne, and the exuberant shouts of the crowd followed us all the way there.

I risked a glimpse of the sea just before we landed. The ships had grown closer. They would have no doubt sighted Hearthaven now. The Isles would no longer be a fabled tale, but at least I would be able to stop Isveig from reaching their shores.

I only wished Rivelin were here with me to do it. All this had been his idea.

Still, there was no time to wait for his return, and he might very well try to stop me now, if he knew what I planned. He wanted me to return to Fafnir to find that book, but the island might refuse to let me leave once I made the wish.

So when Aska landed a few feet from the wishing well, I slid off her back and hurried toward it. I gripped the side, careful not to squash the flowers and vines, and dropped the four grains of sand into the depths. They vanished in the blink of an eye.

I breathed deeply, then said, “As the assistant of this year’s winner of the Midsummer Games, I’ve come to you with my request.” I spoke quickly, not needing to consider my words. I’d thought about Rivelin’s wish so many times in the past few weeks, it was engraved into my mind. And I had a way to improve it, just a bit. “No one can come to the Isles of Fable who will cause this place or anyone within it harm, and if anyone is already here who will cause harm, the island will find an appropriate solution.”

There.I stepped back. I’d done it.