Inferno (Talon #5)(9)
Ouroboros laughed, the deep, booming sound making my heart skip and probably startling every bird for miles into the air. Beside me, Riley flinched, and Garret went for his gun, though I saw him force his hand away from his weapon a moment later. There was nothing we could do against a dragon this size. We would need a missile launcher to even put a dent in his armored scales. This was the king of the realm, the undisputed god of the jungle, and everyone here knew it.
I had to wonder: if Ouroboros was this huge—close to eighty feet from snout to tail, if I had to guess—how big was the Elder Wyrm?
That was a scary thought.
“Ah.” Ouroboros chuckled, shaking his massive head. “It is refreshing to actually talk to someone who will hold a proper conversation,” he stated as his voice sent tremors down my spine. “My subjects—the people you met on the way here—all they do is bow and scrape and press their faces to the dirt. When they do venture past the wall, I can’t even get them to look at me. I was hoping the daughter of the Elder Wyrm and the infamous rogue Cobalt would be less easily cowed.” He glanced at Riley and cocked his head.
There was a split-second hesitation on Riley’s part, as if he, too, had to take a breath to center himself, before his lip curled in a faint smile. “I wouldn’t want to presume,” he said, sounding like his defiant self. “You were having a nice conversation with Ember, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Not certain if the penalty for that kind of thing is death around here.”
Ouroboros snorted, and a smoke cloud the size of a small car went curling away toward the canopy. “So you are exactly as they say,” he mused, sounding pleased. “And I can see why Talon despises you so much. Perhaps you will survive what is coming, after all. But…” His expression darkened, and it was like a wall of clouds dropping over the sun, ominous and terrifying. “Before we go any further, there is one matter I will put to rest, right now.”
Through all of this, Garret hadn’t moved or said anything, and the Wyrm’s attention finally shifted to him. “St. George,” Ouroboros growled, his voice making the ground tremble. “The last I saw of your kind, I was crushing a pair of lance-wielding knights on horses. Now you hunt us with guns and vehicles and modern weapons. I might have separated myself from Talon and the rest of civilization, but I still hear the goings-on of the world. Your Order has brought much death and destruction to dragonkind. You have hunted us relentlessly for centuries, and have done your best to make us extinct.” The Wyrm’s huge body sank into a crouch, talons digging into the stone as he lowered his head, regarding the soldier with glittering red eyes. “Dragons do not forget, St. George,” he rumbled. “Nor do we forgive. I do not see how you thought to come into the lair of a great Wyrm and leave alive.”
My stomach dropped. Garret faced the dragon calmly, no sign of fear on his face, though his expression was resigned. “St. George was wrong,” he said, not moving as those massive jaws shifted closer, wreathing him in smoke. “What we did to your people…” His gaze flickered to me and Riley. “There’s no excuse for the slaughter we caused. But I’m not part of the Order any longer. I’m here because I want the fighting to end.”
Anger flared, and I clenched my fists. Why was Garret’s loyalty in question anymore? Hadn’t he done enough, proven his commitment? He had risked his life on multiple occasions, been threatened, captured, abused and shot in the back by his own Order, all to keep dragons safe. To show St. George that their ancient enemies were not the demons they believed them to be.
Of course, that was before Talon released their mindless dragon army on the Order and nearly destroyed them in one fell swoop. So, they weren’t helping things at all. But a few in the Order were starting to listen. Like Lieutenant Martin. If he could allow a bunch of rogue dragons into his base, then there was hope, after all. Hope for a future without war, where dragons didn’t have to live in fear. Where teenagers weren’t trained as killers and assassins. And where a former soldier of St. George and a dragon could be together without both sides trying to tear them apart or kill them.
Frighteningly, Ouroboros didn’t look impressed or appeased. “I’m afraid that’s not good enough, dragonslayer,” he said, making my heart pound with terror. “Are you telling me a murderer should not be punished just because he is repentant? That remorse will erase all the blood on his hands, all the lives he has taken?”
“No.” Garret’s voice was a whisper, though he quickly composed himself, gazing up at the monstrous dragon looming overhead. “But I can do more good alive than dead. At least until this is over. I know it will never be enough, but I can try to make up for my past.”
“Can you?” The great Wyrm curled a lip, showing a flash of yellow fangs the size of short swords. “You are one human. Your life is but a heartbeat. A flap of a butterfly’s wing. If I destroy you here, squash you like an insect, no one will know. No one will mourn you. One less human in the world will not make any difference.”
“Hey, now.” Riley sounded nervous. “I admit, the guy was a bastard when he worked for St. George, but he’s been pretty useful to us.”
The Wyrm ignored him. With a terrifying smile, he sat up, towering over us. “I’ll make this sporting, St. George,” he said, and nodded back toward the gate, in the direction we came in. “Run. Now. We’ll see how far you can get before my flames catch up to you. And, human, I haven’t had to chase anything for over a hundred years. Do try to make a fight of it, won’t you?”