Legion. Julie Kagawa

afraid. A nearby tower of pallets collapsed with a deafening roar, and a cloud of embers billowed into the air, swirling around me, but there was no discomfort or pain. I could feel the heat, smell the smoke and ashes settling in my lungs, but it didn’t bother me at all.

      Firebrand?

      That same voice, low and husky, drifted from one of the aisles. Ember, it said again, its tone laced with worry. You’ve been sitting here for eight hours. Go to sleep. Let me or Wes take watch—he’s not going anywhere.

      No, said the voice that made my heart leap in my chest. I want to be here. When he wakes up, I should be here. He was almost lucid a little while ago. I think... I think he was calling for me.

      I started toward the voice, ducking a burning beam, feeling the heat against my back and neck as I hurried forward. The voices continued, but they were fainter now, swallowed by the roar of the inferno. Overhead, a skylight exploded into shards of razor glass and rained down, pinging off the cement. Impatient, I shielded my face with a hand and jogged forward.

      The Patriarch emerged from the darkness of the aisle, dressed in white and red, a sword hanging loosely at his side. Flames engulfed him, burning his uniform, clawing at his beard and leaping from his hair. His face was blackened, the skin cracked and oozing, but his blue eyes glowed in the haze and smoke, and he pointed a fire-wreathed hand in my direction.

      “Traitor,” he whispered. “Dragonlover. Like your parents before you. You are damned, Sebastian. Your soul has been tainted beyond all redemption, and you must be put down like the demon you are.”

      He took a step toward me. I raised my gun and fired point-blank at his center, and the Patriarch exploded into a cloud of swirling ashes and scattered into the smoke. But his voice continued to echo through the warehouse.

      You cannot escape your destiny. Evil is in your blood, Sebastian. You will fall, and you will burn in the flames of your own making, as your parents did before you.

      Lowering my arm, I strode through the ash cloud into the blackness beyond.

      * * *

      Sunlight blinded me. Wincing, I raised my arm, trying to see past the sudden glare. The scent of salt and sand filled my nostrils, and I heard the sound of waves, crying gulls and distant laughter. Blinking rapidly, I lowered my arm to find myself on the edge of a beach, a strip of white sand stretching out to either side and the brilliant, sparkling ocean before me.

      Recognition sparked. This place felt familiar, though I couldn’t remember why. Hadn’t I been here before? If I had, why did the sight of the ocean fill me with both excitement and dread?

      “Garret,” Tristan said at my back. His voice was impatient, and I turned to face the other soldier. He wore shorts, a tank top and a slight frown as he gazed down at me. “You okay?” my partner asked. “You went all glassy-eyed for few seconds. Did you hear what I just said?”

      “No,” I muttered as memory came back in a rush, reminding me why we were here. Find a dragon, kill a dragon. Like we had done all those times before. So, why did this seem so different? I felt like I was missing something important. “Sorry,” I told Tristan, rubbing my eyes. “What was that again?”

      He sighed. “I was saying the dragon is hiding right over there, and that maybe you should go talk to it before it disappears.”

      He pointed. I turned, squinting against the light and the glimmer coming off the ocean. Farther down the sand, a group of teenagers clustered by the water’s edge, laughing and occasionally splashing each other. Between the sunlight and the blinding glare, I couldn’t see their features, just moving silhouettes against the water, sand and sky.

      “I don’t see a dragon,” I murmured, walking forward a few steps.

      “Really?” Tristan followed, his footsteps shushing quietly through the sand. “It’s standing right there, plain as day. Maybe if you weren’t so blinded by love, you’d see it for what it really is. And then, I wouldn’t have to kill you.”

      I turned. Tristan stood behind me, a gun held level with my chest. His eyes were hard as they met mine and he pulled the trigger.

      There was no sound. The flash of the gun filled my vision, and I felt myself falling.

      * * *

      I opened my eyes.

      The sky overhead was gray and dim. There were no clouds, no glimmers of blue or sunlight through the haze. Just a flat gray sky that seemed much closer than it should be. I blinked a few times, and it resolved itself into a concrete ceiling with cracks running across the surface. I lay on my back in a small, empty room, a sheet pulled up to my chest and my hands draped over my stomach. My body felt numb and heavy, and my head felt like it was full of cotton, which made it very hard to think. Where was I? How did I get here? The last thing I remembered...

      My mind stirred sluggishly, trying to sift through what was real and what was nightmare. What had happened to me? Memories rose up, familiar faces and voices, but it was difficult to separate reality from hallucination. Had I been injured? Or had I been chasing something?

      Slowly, I turned my head, trying to take in my surroundings, and my pulse stuttered.

      A girl slumped next to my bed, seated in a metal chair pulled close to the mattress. Her arms were folded against the sheets with her head cradled atop them, bright red hair mussed and sticking out at odd angles. Her eyes were closed, and her slim bare shoulders rose and fell with the rhythm of her breathing.

      Ember. I drew in a breath, feeling the strangeness of the dreamworld dissolve as reality took its place. Suddenly, all those things—where I was, what had happened to me, how much time had passed—didn’t seem important anymore. Just that she was here.

      I stretched out my hand, not trusting my voice, and touched the back of her arm.

      She jerked away and looked up, green eyes wide and startled. For half a heartbeat, she stared at me in confusion as her mind caught up to the present. I saw my reflection in her gaze and wanted to say something, but my voice hadn’t returned quite yet.

      “Garret,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. And then she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around my neck in an almost painful embrace. I slid my arms around her, feeling her heartbeat against mine, her warm cheek pressed against my throat and jaw. I closed my eyes and held her, trembling, in my arms.

      “Hey you,” I whispered. My voice came out raspy and weak, and I swallowed some of the scratchy dryness in my throat. I became aware that I was very hot, my skin burning with fever. I could practically feel the heat radiating off me, and was thankful that only a thin sheet covered my body. “What happened?” I husked out as Ember pulled back, regarding me with shining green eyes. “Where are we?”

      She gave me a solemn look. “We’re in one of Riley’s safe houses, an old bomb shelter he renovated from the Cold War era. We are literally underground right now. Hang on.” She turned, sliding off the mattress, and reached toward a small end table beside the bed. A bowl and a wet cloth sat on one corner, a glass and a pitcher on the other. She poured the last of the pitcher’s contents into the cup and turned back, cocking her head. “Can you sit up?”

      Carefully, I struggled to a sitting position, feeling weak and unstable as I leaned forward, and Ember adjusted the pillows at my back. When we were done, she handed me the cup, and I forced myself to drink slowly, though the burning in my throat and deep in my chest made me want to down it in two gulps.

      Putting the empty glass on the bedside table, I looked at Ember again. She ran her fingers over my forehead, brushing back my hair. Her fingers were cool and soft and left a soothing trail over my heated skin. “What do you remember?”

      “I... I don’t know.” Everything was still fuzzy, and now the heat in my veins had become even more pronounced. I pressed a palm to my face, trying to clear my thoughts and to ease the pressure behind my eyes. “I was...fighting the Patriarch, I think,” I said. “He challenged me to a duel, and I agreed to fight him. That’s all I can remember.”