Page 76 of Fire to the Stars

Empty consolation. Gérard, to his credit, humors me with anod.

“Slayers say a prayer before we hunt. Would you like to pray with me?”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

I draw my moonmetal dagger and wrap his fingers around the hilt, then clasp mine around his.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Ready.”

“Noctu, stay your hand. Diu, guide my blade,” I recite. “Return Gérard’s fire to the stars.”

“Return my fire to the stars,” he echoes, then scoffs. “I trustyouto get rid of my fire more than I trust Diu to take it back.”

To trust me—a mere mortal—above Diu is blasphemous. Especially considering my history of attempting to seize control of his magic. But who am I to lecture Gérard on his beliefs? He’s about to die.

“Thank you for trusting me, Gérard.”

Collecting my pack and helmet from the grass, I head to the cover of a yellowing tree. A quick draw of a dagger allows me to catch a reflection of the suns on the blade. Less than a minute until they eclipse. My new crossbow clicks as I load it with a bolt. Fastened overcoat—check. All my moondaggers wait sheathed in the strap across my chest. The moonmetal sword rests heavy on my back. I call for Lucy, who trots to me with a leaf in her mouth. I barred her from the fireplace last night. I need her hungry if she’s going to have the appetite to keep the fires out of myway.

“We’ll save Madame Afi,” I tell Micah’s skull. “Just help me with Gérard first.”

Lucy drops the leaf and whimpers beside me. Her ears stiffen.

“Easy does it, Luce.” I scratch between her ears, the way Claire does. “It’s scary the first time, but I know you can do it.”

Finally, with a long, reluctant breath, I set my helmet over my head.

The sky flares with bright, white sunslight. Gérard’s face slackens; then time…accelerates.

Steam bursts from his every orifice. One blink and his eyes turn gold. He doubles forward, spine ripping through his clothes, tail lashing. At the same time his skull elongates and grows spiked horns. From scapula to fingertip, the bones elongate and expand. The fleshy red membranes of his wings peel away from his back and race down the enlarging biceps—

The shackle severs Gérard’s left wing mid-formation, true to Hanna’s design.

Blood sprays from a raw stump. Gérard’s human forearm, deformed with talons and a scattering of scales, flops into the grass. The dragon’s first roar spikes into a squeal. Without a second forelimb to lean on, he loses his balance and topples forward. His scaly chest hits the ground with a crushing thud.

I make a break for him, crossbow raised, Lucy at my heel, approaching from behind the healthy wing that keeps me from sight.

This is nothing like my previous hunts. There’s no rush of danger. No exhilaration that comes with a critical strike. It feels too easy, like I’m cheating.

I can’t trust it.

Distance half closed, I take a knee, then fire. The bolt strikes the space between the throat and the chest, where the fire gland resides. Just in time. He coughs up embers that catch on the dry leaves.

“Lucy, eat!”

Lucy races dangerously close to the dragon’s forked tongue and devours the fire before it can spread. Blackened leaves andgrass crunch under her quick feet. The dragon bares his fangs in a snarl.

“Come!”

I load a second bolt and fire. This time I miss the fire gland. It hits the shoulder instead. Already the first bolt wiggles in his throat, the healing magic pushing it out from the inside. I need more damage to that gland or I won’t be able to risk a closer approach. A direct hit from dragon fire guarantees death.

Just as Lucy returns, the dragon sweeps his head in my direction. Unable to line up a shot, I sprint through the grass.

Shockingly, he heaves himself up, weight shifted to one side, haunches tucked as if preparing to lunge. I circle left to force him off-balance—but the powerful tail sweeps toward me. I dive over it, somersault to my feet, then fire my third bolt into his flank. His weight buckles, but the bolt in his throat finally falls to the grass with a softpat.

He attempts to breathe fire at me but spits smoke instead. Good. Not quite healed yet. But things are still ramping up.