Page 50 of Dragon 7

What meaning did I have?

How could I even focus on victory if she were barely holding on?

Suddenly, a boom rolled across the island from the far shore. Then another. The antiaircraft guns opened up after them, hammering at the sky, and a plane droned off in the distance.

Please. . .let no more of Akiro’s planes arrive.

Then, the night split open into gunfire. Distant first, then closer, then layered over itself until it became one long tearing roar.

Goddamn it.

Tons of engines droned overhead.

They’re here.

Then, a plane tore low across the forest, speeding right over the clearing.

The war had arrived, and still. . .all I could think about was how my Tiger was hurt.

"Put out the torchlights. The Fox's men are here." The Death Guardian's voice carried across the clearing. "Nothing stops this ritual. The Tiger has sacrificed too much for it to be wasted—"

I went still.

"Sacrificed?" The word seized fire in my chest. I looked down at her. "Tora."

“Kenji. . .don’t. . .”

I did my best to keep the rage out of my voice. "What did you sacrifice?"

Her bottom lip quivered. A tear broke loose from her eye, ran down her cheek, and fell from her jaw into the dark between us. “Kenji. . .n-not now. . .”

There was so much grief and sadness in her eyes that my heart crushed within my chest. “What did you do, Tora?”

“The war is here. We have no more time.” The Death Guardian stepped close and raised a large bowl between us. "You must drink."

I did not let go of Nyomi. "Tora? Answer me."

"Let go of me and drink." Nyomi’s eyes could barely stay open now. "P-please."

Out past the trees the guns kept firing: rifles, then heavier ones, then the antiaircraft batteries answering a plane overhead.

More hooded figures came over to grab Nyomi.

I tried to move her out of their reach, but they wouldn’t let me. "Tora. Answer me—"

"Drink, Kenji." Her fingers curled into my shirt and pulled, weak, insistent. "P-please. H-hurry."

Gunfire rolled up the slope behind us.

Men roared as they fought.

More planes sounded.

The war climbed the island toward this clearing, and she was asking me to drink while she bled from a wound I could not find and cried for a sacrifice she would not name.

There is no war without her. There is no focus if she is in pain.

“Let me go, Kenji.”