She could move her face.

  As soon as the thought hit, her body came back to her. She sat up, coughing and spitting out tiny leaves and a piece of metal. “What was that?”

  Ember put a finger to her lips, but she was still grinning. “Feel better?”

  Camille shook off a pall of lethargy and peeked around the jar as Ember did.

  A dragon stood in the workshop.

  A fucking dragon.

  “I knew it,” she whispered.

  “Me, too,” Ember said. “It’s Sir Robert. He went shimmery and blobby and turned into a dragon.”

  Camille wished she could have seen that. It almost would have been worth the terror and impotent fury she’d felt on the way down here.

  A glittery thing shot through the air from the dragon and hit one of the tables, leaving a scorch mark. From behind another table, Rowena stood and hurled a ball of fire. The dragon swatted it away into the cavern wall.

  Camille grabbed Ember’s arm as electric fear shot through her. “He’s a dragon and a witch.”

  “I know!”

  She sounded way too excited for the gruesome situation.

  “How do we fight him?”

  “Right. Dragons.” She’d read all about them, had been somewhat of an expert even as a child, before she’d found rare texts that had been written when they were actually around, old, crumbling texts that had been copied from even older, crumblier texts, both of which only researchers got to see. She meshed it with her knowledge of other large creatures.

  “The bigger something is, the slower it usually moves.”

  “Not true this time,” Ember said.

  Camille threw that train of thought out the window, then. The dragon sat upright, and its belly seemed as armored as the rest of it. No help there. She looked to the head. “Dragon eyesight is supposed to be fairly weak.”

  Ember nodded as if filing that away.

  “What about the magic he used to hide this form?” Camille asked.

  “You’ll have to ask Rowena.”

  Camille bit her lip. She wanted to go to Rowena, wanted to see if she could help, but… “How do I get over there?”

  Ember hadn’t lost her grin. “I’ll distract the dragon. You run.”

  “Wait.” Camille’s heart sped to double time, but Ember was already running. She picked up something from the floor and chucked it at the dragon’s wing. “Shit.” Camille wouldn’t waste the effort. She ran faster than she’d ever run, angling around the knights and seeking to work her way toward Rowena while keeping an eye on the dragon. She skirted the knights where they were fighting, but it wasn’t until one of the dragonkin sprang at her that she realized she had more to watch out for than the very big dragon.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Sydney glimpsed Camille darting past just as one of the dragonkin broke from the fight. She knew what was going to happen as if she could see the future, and when the monster leaped toward Camille, Sydney came hard after it. She opened herself to heartfire, and it blazed around her hand, but a shimmery force burst out of her as well, catching the dragonkin and launching it over Camille’s head to crash into the wall.

  She wanted to curse, but she was out of breath. That wasn’t the first time such a thing had happened during this fight. Luckily, none of her allies had been caught by the force spell yet.

  Spell. She was casting spells.

  “Are you all right?” she called to Camille. Whatever had frozen her at the beginning of the battle seemed to have passed.

  She nodded. “I have to get to Rowena. We need to work together.”

  Sydney nodded. “Right. You two figure out the dragon.”

  “No, we all need to work together.”

  Sydney was already turning back to the fight and didn’t stop. She looked past the press of knights and monsters and eyed the fucking dragon.

  “Sydney,” Camille yelled. “Don’t touch the jars with your bare hands. Tell the others.”

  Sydney barely listened. Sir Robert was a dragon. She could barely wrap her mind around it.

  A dragon had been leading the Knights of the Flame for nearly thirty years.

  A magic-casting dragon. It betrayed her on so many levels.

  She skirted the battle and ran for the dragon, screaming as she went. Heartfire flickered in her vision, the flames surrounding her. A shimmery wall preceded her, but when it touched the dragon, he only looked down.

  The snakelike neck bent, and the snout with all its teeth pointed right at her. “Ah, Major. Still alive, I see.”

  Sydney slashed his nose, but the blade grazed harmlessly across as if she was trying to cut a building. She swung her heartfire-shrouded arm, but he merely lifted his chin. Overbalanced, she almost fell but righted herself at the last minute. Her ire and rage began to fade under a cloud of utter hopelessness.

  “It’s a pity we could never see eye to eye, Major,” the dragon said. “My kind does so appreciate loyalty. And I did love how determined you were to eradicate every witch in Arnvild.”

  Sydney snarled. “I believed in you, trusted you.”

  “Our ability to inspire dedication is one of the reasons humanity tried to eradicate us.” Flames seemed to burn in his eyes. “But now, with the witches nearly gone, the time has come for us to rise once more.” His face moved closer, his hot breath like a gale. “I didn’t know when I started the Order of Flame as Sir Simon Shockley that it would take such a short time.” He shrugged, making his wings flutter. “But after I started the Witch Wars, people were happy to turn on those with power.”

  His toothy grin was back. “I had planned for your death another way, but this will be as satisfying as that.”

  One of the clawed hands swung for her almost lazily, and she dove out of the way. The dragon stopped short of hitting one of the jars, pulling his hand up quickly.

  He didn’t want to lose this workshop.

  Sydney eyed the jar and heard Camille’s parting words. She didn’t know why she shouldn’t touch the jars with her bare hands, but Camille said nothing about her booted feet. She braced against a table, put her feet on the jar, and pushed. It rocked slightly before toppling.

  “No!” The dragon lunged, catching the jar though the top fell off, and some of the liquid sloshed over the dragon’s hands. He hissed as if it burned him and shook his clawed fingers as if to rid them of the liquid. Sydney didn’t quite understand why, but she rejoiced at having something to use.

  * * *

  Rowena cursed when Sir Robert the dragon swatted her fireball away as if it were a fly. She flipped through spells but couldn’t think of anything she could do quickly that might penetrate the dragon’s armor or limit his casting abilities. She supposed she should be grateful he wasn’t rampaging around the cavern, but he seemed to want to protect his workshop.

  She’d heard the rumble of his voice and knew he was talking to Sydney but only caught a few words above the fight, like the fact that he’d been hunting witches over several human lifetimes. She wondered if she should get closer, but she was having a hard enough time staying ahead of Sir Robert’s spells from a distance.

  Camille ran past the knights and stopped, craning her neck as if searching. Rowena ran closer in a crouch, waving to get Camille’s attention. As soon as Camille joined her, Rowena kept them both low as she found a different hiding spot behind some jars.

  To her surprise, Camille pulled her back from them. “Don’t touch them with bare skin.”

  “Why?”

  She described the unconscious knights as doing so before they’d fallen. Rowena got close to a jar, ignoring Camille’s protest, and sniffed.

  She smelled valerian root and a few other things she couldn’t identify. Valerian was a sleep aid. No doubt Sir Robert had made some concoction, then infused it with his life force to make it magical.

  Rowena grinned. Finally, something she could counter.

  “Come on,” she said to Camille.

  “Where? We have to talk about the dragon.”

  “Talk and run.” Even thinking about the dragon couldn’t dull her elation. She hurried toward the nearest downed knight and used his tabard to wash his hands off before she laid the hand bearing her anti-magic strap across his forehead. She pushed a tiny bit of life force through, and he came awake with a snap.

  “Wha—” he started.

  Rowena pulled him upright, silencing him. “Fight now. Talk later.” She turned his head so he could see his fellow knights engaged in combat. Without another word, he staggered to his feet, went still when he saw the dragon, then continued to join the fight.

  “There’s one.” Camille led the way to the next closest knight.

  Rowena kissed her cheek. “I’m so glad you catch on quick.”

  Camille beamed. “I don’t remember any particular dragon weaknesses.”

  “No soft spot?”

  “Not even for cake or anything.”

  The words were said without humor, but Rowena snorted anyway. Not only did Camille catch on quick, her sense of humor never left her, an aspect of her personality Rowena could come to love.

  No, scratch that. She knew she loved Camille. Whether the feeling would fade after their adventure was over or not, she didn’t know, but she’d never met anyone besides Ember who could put up with her bullshit, a yeti, giant spiders, trapped tunnels, horrid monsters, and a fucking dragon and not only stick by Rowena’s side but make jokes about cake.

  “I…think I love you.”

  Camille’s eyes went wide. Rowena cursed herself for adding the word think. She knew it. Why couldn’t she say it? Why was she always so bloody—

  “I love you, too.”

  Rowena let her breath out in a rush, gasping it back when Camille kissed her.

  “We can talk and run, but we can’t kiss and run or kiss and talk,” Camille said. “So, we’ll have to save the rest for when we have more time.” She began to lead the way again. “And a milkmaid costume.”

  Rowena laughed, dragon and all. “So, no weaknesses.” She peeked at the dragon as they worked. To her delight, Sydney was making things as difficult for Sir Robert as she could, running around trying to make a mess of the workshop while Sir Robert attempted to stop her. Rowena noted the way the dragon snarled when he touched one of his jars, the way he sought to wipe his claws on the ground or on tables. So, he wasn’t immune to his own sleep potion, but it would probably take a lot to knock him out.

  Though he did seem slower.

  She filled Camille in on what she saw.

  “I don’t think we can wait for that to work,” Camille said, nodding over Rowena’s shoulder.

  When she looked again, Sir Robert left Sydney and grabbed a knight to throw across the room. The knight hit the wall with a sickening thud and lay still. Sydney let loose a rage-filled cry and rushed Sir Robert again.

  “Bugger,” Rowena said. As expected, Sydney’s attacks did nothing but get her in range. When Sir Robert turned to accost her, Ember tackled her out of the way, and Rowena breathed a sigh of relief until Sir Robert reached to snap at them with his great teeth.

  A shimmery wall burst from Sydney. It shoved Ember away along the floor, but it also slammed into Sir Robert’s head hard enough to avert his jaws. Rowena hoped it rattled some teeth loose.

  “We can’t fight him like that,” Camille said. “Can you force him to be human again?”

  “Did he happen to talk about how he’d done that?”

  Camille shook her head.

  “He said he’s been alive a long time,” Rowena said. “He’d have to pretend to be different people.”

  “None of the books I read said anything about dragons being able to naturally change their shape.”

  They sent two more knights off to join the battle. At this rate, the dragonkin would be overwhelmed quickly. Sydney and Ember were both up again, Sydney trying to knock down jars and Ember herding the knights back from the dragon as best she could, though he still managed to get a few. If they could scatter among the jars…

  “Rowena, pay attention.”

  She shook her head and returned to the task at hand, trying to think of what to do. “No spell can do that, none that I’ve heard of anyway. It would take a massive output of power every time, and he bloody well couldn’t do it without a spell circle.”

  “Are you sure? If he’s ancient—”

  “I don’t care how ancient he is. You may get more knowledge as you get older, but you can’t get more powerful. The only way to change one’s shape at will would require…a magical bloody artifact.”

  “Like the witchstone?” Camille asked. “If he has one artifact, he might have more.”

  “And dragons are a bunch of buggery collectors if there ever were any.”

  “What did he do when he transformed?” Camille asked, but she looked away as if talking to herself, another aspect of her that Rowena loved. “Before the actual transformation? Before I fell?” She put a hand to her chest and lifted. “He took something off.”

  Rowena thought back, too, but she didn’t have to go as far back as the actual transformation, just to a glittering pendant in Ember’s hand, one she threw away. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

  * * *

  Ember had gotten sidetracked. There was just so much going on. She’d been about to help Sydney against the dragon, then she’d seen an unconscious knight about to get squashed by the dragon’s tail, so she’d darted in and moved him. Then she’d seen another knight about to be killed by a dragonkin, so she’d helped that one, then another had come staggering by, so she’d kept him from being eviscerated, and so on.

  And no one seemed to really notice her, which was both thrilling and annoying.

  By the time she’d looked back to the dragon, Sydney was about to get squished, so Ember had tackled her out of the way.

  And then the dragon had been going to eat them.

  She was going to be eaten.

  Was it wrong to be curious?

  Then a blast of force had come out of Sydney, and Ember had felt as if she’d been shoved by a giant hand, and Dragon Sir Robert’s face had wobbled, and he drew back. Ember shot to her feet and ran to lift Sydney. She stared as if shocked by Ember’s strength before she turned back toward the dragon, who regarded them more warily than before.

  “Protect the knights,” Sydney shouted, then she was off trying to knock over one of the jars.

  Dragon Sir Robert lifted one corner of his snout in a good approximation of a sneer before he reached over the dragonkin for the knights.

  Ember called on all her speed and darted for him. She leaped onto his hand and ran up his arm. As expected, he drew back in surprise, his arm lifting. She jumped to his shoulder before he could fling her off, her feet skidding on his scaly hide. She tried to cut him, but her blade wouldn’t penetrate, and when he shook his long neck, she fell down his back.

  Tucking her limbs in and keeping her blade to the side, she twisted to roll in a series of somersaults down his back and tail. When she hit the floor, she tried to run, but his tail had knocked over some of the jars, and the floor was covered in goop and half-grown dragonkin. She skidded, but so did Dragon Sir Robert when he turned to face her.

  He cried out at the sight of his jars. A crash came from the right, Sydney continuing her rampage.

  “Filthy human bastards,” Dragon Sir Robert cried. He scooped at a large, foul-smelling pile of brimstone near the back of the cavern and held it in front of his mouth.

  Ember knew this. He was going to hurl a ball of fire. “Sydney, watch out!”

  Sydney looked up. Dragon Sir Robert blew across the brimstone like Rowena did, but where she threw, he exhaled faster and longer, and a jet of fire streamed from the brimstone and blanketed the jars where Sydney dived for cover.

  Ember’s heart sank into her stomach. “No.” Sydney had to stay alive. She’d never considered anything else. Sydney with her golden hair and fabulous stories and generous heart couldn’t die. People Ember knew and loved didn’t die. She’d never considered her own end, let alone theirs. She didn’t want Sydney to die. Didn’t want Rowena or Camille or the knights or anyone else to die.

  She hadn’t wanted those villagers to be dead, especially the child who should have been running and playing and not lying in a field without breathing because some bugger assholes didn’t believe she was real.

  Ember’s anger was a hotter flame than Dragon Sir Robert’s.

  She did a standing leap onto a nearby table, clearing a great swath of floor. She kicked off her goop-covered boots, tore off her socks, then jumped for Dragon Sir Robert again. Her bare feet gave her better purchase as she ran up his back. The fire had ceased. His long neck turned, and he regarded her.

  She punched him in his dragon face as hard as she could.

  He staggered, shaking his head again and dislodging her. She angled for another table and shattered it when she hit, jarring something in her shoulder. Her fist, still curled around the grip of her blade, ached, too. Both had a deep, pulsing burn as if she’d been scorched, but she hadn’t. This was the same pain as when she’d stepped off a cliff to see what would happen.

  She’d broken something inside.

  Trying to ignore the ache, she left her hand curled around her blade, hoping she could ignore that pain enough to fight. No, that was too hard. She switched the sword’s grip to her uninjured hand and arm and tried to let the other hang, but as she clambered out of the table’s remains, the arm screamed with so much discomfort, she had to hug it close to her chest. Rowena could fix her.

  Her anger and frustration lifted slightly. Rowena could fix Sydney, too.

  Ember looked for her. Dragon Sir Robert was blinking as if she’d really hurt him, and she was beyond happy. When he straightened, he spat a red wad of phlegm, and she saw a tooth in the middle.