Page 127 of Fire to the Stars

Through the needled branches, I search the dragon for a glimpse of Claire Belgard. My Claire. The woman I love. Tail lashing, teeth gnashing, gold eyes wild and angry. The embodiment of Diu’s fury, like every other dragon I’ve slain. Only scraps of clothing remain tangled around her talons.

I’m here to protect her, not kill her. But I need a prayer anyway. Something to anchor me to my purpose so I don’t lose focus.

“Noctu, be free. Diu, guide the way. Return Claire’s fire tothe stars.” My modified prayer comes out rushed. “Onlyher fire. Please.”

An Immortal emerges from behind a nearby pine trunk, spear in hand. He raises it over his shoulder, waiting for the last curl of steam to mark the end of Claire’s transformation. Panic spikes my heartbeat, but my hunter’s eye takes over. That stance exposes his rib cage.

I fire a shot. The bolt strikes clean between two ribs. He drops the spear and coughs blood.Yes.I hit the lung.

Second rule of dragon hunting: Establish limits and keep the target within them.

Before he can fall, I drag him back by the cloak, then shove him against the tree. With a shout, I drive his spear through his chest. The spear head lodges in the soft bark, pinning him solidly against it.

A horse races toward me, then halts, spraying snow. Lyle fumbles with his reins as he disentangles them from a loop of rope, which I use to bind my victim to the trunk.

“Your girl is a force of nature.” He grins, but his eyes are wide with panic.

“You have no idea.” I withdraw my bolt and the spear. “Have you seen any silverwolves?”

As if in answer, silverwolves bark across the clearing. They race for Claire, but she whips them away with her tail. The sheer force makes me wince. The other silverwolves cower, hesitant to follow the next wave of orders.

“Attaquez le dragon!” my victim screams.Attack the dragon!

I pull off his mask and stuff his mouth with the hem of his cloak. At the same time, Marshal Payen gallops past and firesher musket at someone behind us. A second Immortal flies backward into the snow with a hole in his chest.

“Watch your backs!” she warns, then tosses Lyle another loop of rope.

He leaps off his horse and binds the wrists of Payen’s victim. Another gendarme slows to a trot just long enough to take the end of that rope, then drag the Immortal away from the fray, a streak of blood in his wake. Dragon fire blasts through the trees, where they stood mere seconds ago. The heat singes my skin and spooks Lyle’s horse so badly that he nearly falls in his attempt to mount from the ground.

“Why isn’t Claire entering the cave?” Marshal Payen shouts.

“Too many distractions!” I yell back.

Her whistle draws attention from the gendarmes. “Get them away from her!” she orders, then gallops off.

Fourth rule of dragon hunting: Movement equals survival.

I lift my crossbow and hiss at the pain that throbs in my shoulder. Lyle halts.

“I’m fine,” I insist.

“Then stay alive,” Lyle says. He gallops away.

I’m not fine. But if I don’t fight, Claire could die.

She roars at her surroundings, sending a shiver up my spine. She spews another stream of flames into the trees. The needles above us go up in flames, raining us with embers. I duck behind a new trunk, calling Lucy to my side. The man I tied to the tree screams as he’s roasted alive—but his ropes will burn, and I know he won’t die in human form. I squint through the smoke. Ten yards to my left, two more Immortals go up in flames—and so does a gendarme. To my right, an Immortal slashes agendarme’s arm off with his sickle. The limb lands in the snow alongside a musket.

When the smoke clears, flames lick their way up snow-laden tree branches. Burning flesh turns the air rancid, but my muscles relish the heat. Pain means I’m alive. Pain means I can help. Pain means I must

keep

moving.

Ninth rule of dragon hunting: The best camouflage is chaos.

Nothing’s more chaotic than the dragon herself.

I dart from my hiding place and close in at Claire’s flank. She rears her head and inhales for another burst of dragon’s breath. I fire a bolt at a sword-brandishing Immortal beside her. It punctures his thigh. He stumbles but doesn’t stop. He thrusts the sword into Claire’s rib cage.