“Watch your step,” said Deven lè Nir.

The floor of the runeship shifted beneath them, and Riese held tight to a rail as they ascended the narrow steps to the main deck. She was no longer bound, though the runemarked collar remained.

Riese could not shake the images seared into her mind. The entire Isle of Eòreth smoldering like the coals of a cook fire. It wasn’t the Rykus castle that haunted her, but the village outside, the charred skeletal remains of incinerated huts. Roofs caved in or consumed altogether. Walls collapsed. They’d been too high and distant to see the bodies. But her imagination ran wild.

“They had no warning,” Rykus had said. “Women and children, who’d no part in what happened on Faltara. This is the swift wrath of the empire your people have empowered, Riese Torendeil.”

To think she had entertained joining their legion of dragon riders. To wreak carnage in the same way on other unsuspecting innocents. Her people had been right about the nature of the Dragonmounts.

And yet, they’d also made this possible, content to look the other way as they delivered Attica the keys to their power. Hours later, her stomach still churned at the images in her mind.

Rykus’s words rang over and over in her head as they sailed away from Eòreth, quickly lost back in the darkness of the storm.

Now, Riese and Deven emerged on deck. Dark clouds enveloped them in all directions, but a golden glow hung over the deck of the ship, reminding Riese of the way her village illuminated on a snowy night, the light of hearths and candles magnified by the weather.

Only here, the light came from hish-infused runes. And something else too.

Tiny flashes of golden light darted all around the flying ship, buzzing loudly as they whisked from sails to rigging to the sides of the vessel. One brushed past Riese’s face, and she barely resisted the instinct to swat it away like a pesky deer fly. It drew up at once, and hovered near Captain Rykus’s shoulder, who stood at the foredeck, beside a woman with fiery hair who manned the helm.

The woman was slender, dressed in form-fitting navy trousers and a long navy officer’s coat that nearly reached her knees.

The dark-winged creature was the size of a handspan. Small horns protruded from an ugly head, and its skin was covered in fiery veins. Dark eyes examined Riese up and down for a moment, then the creature turned to Rykus and spoke.

“Lord Rykus, Sky Captain Verina, we are nearing our destination.” Its voice was raspy and guttural, befitting the fearsome face, though Riese had expected a higher pitch based on its size.

“Very good, Lir’ghe,” Rykus said.

The creature scowled, eyes darting to the Sky Captain and then to Riese.

“Lord, should not this prisoner stay out of sight?”

“She is no prisoner, Lir’ghe.”

“Aren’t I?” Riese chuckled, hand drifting to the runemarked collar around her neck. She glanced at Deven, who stood beside her, hand hovering instinctively at the hilt of a saber.

The Morph shrugged. “You’re still a sorceress.”

“And a Dragonmount,” Rykus added.

Lir’ghe buzzed softly, arms crossed over its tiny humanoid chest, remaining close to the Sky Captain’s shoulder. Verina held tight to the helm, subtly adjusting numerous levers on a panel beside the wheel as they sailed across the skies. Lir’ghe whispered something sharply to the Sky Captain. She shrugged, and focused on the task before her.

“Well, since my opinion is not being heard,” the creature murmured, “I return to work now.”

Without another word, the creature darted away.

“Moody fellow,” Riese said.

“Small vicious creatures usually are. Your dragon will be worse as a hatchling.”

My dragon, Riese thought.

It was a such a bizarre thing to say so casually. But that bond was a part of her now. Over the past several hours, she found her spirit aching for it, longed to feel the dragon’s spirit again. She could sense the dragon was nearby. Despite the destruction she’d witnessed, she still longed to see her own dragon hatch. To meet it. To complete the bond.

And that was the true reason she was here, she knew.

But there was much left to determine, even if she was sympathetic to Rykus’s cause. There was so much she did not understand.

Riese marveled as the fiery creatures flitted from place to place on the ship, rune to rune. The winds shifted sharply, jostling the entire ship. Riese grabbed on to the railing to steady herself.

The Sky Captain hollered an order as she adjusted several runemarked levers. Sails shifted, and the ship groaned as it turned in the misty skies.

“God’s breath! Are those flying this thing?”

“Of course,” the Sky Captain said.

“What are they?”

“Kroqala” said Rykus. “Demon faeries from the Lost World.”

“From the Crossing?” she asked.

“Well, she’s a sharp one at any rate,” said the Sky Captain, with little enthusiasm.

Rykus nodded, though he made no further answer.

“We’re close,” said Rykus, gripping the helm fiercely. “Best hang tight. The winds are always stronger up close.”

“Up close to what?” Riese said.

Rykus winked, but said no more.

“Come,” Deven said, pointing to the bow of the ship. They crossed quickly, and Riese held on to the railing, peering over the side. Her stomach roiled. All she saw was roiling mists, but she knew they must be hundreds, maybe thousands of feet above the sea. One slip, and…

No Dragonmount would fear such a height, she thought, steeling herself. This ship is far safer than most places on the Spires.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going, or you all going to keep playing this vague mystery game?” Riese said, shifting her gaze ahead into the gloom.

“Where do you think a rebel would go in between missions?” Deven asked with a wry smile.

“Well, I thought we were heading back to your master’s island before it was destroyed.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Deven grimaced. “We never used his own kingdom as a rebel outpost for just that reason. But we heard word, and Rykus had to be certain.”

“How did you hear so quickly?” said Riese.

Deven shrugged. “There are many things that can be done with the proper rune work. We were fortunate the Dragonmounts had already left. No doubt planning their own next moves. Everything will converge on Faltara. But first, we must confer with the others.”

“What others?”

Deven pointed out into the darkness ahead. Riese peered into the thick clouds, mists dampening her hair, chilling her skin. Wind rushed over the deck, sails roaring as the Kroqala and some of the other soldiers adjusted their position once more.

Ahead, amidst the billowing darkness, dark shapes appeared. A mass of rock jutted up in front of them.

“We’re lower than I thought,” Riese said.

“Oh, we’re thousands of feet above the ocean right now.”

“You mean, that’s not a mountain?”

“Oh, it’s a mountain, alright. But it’s nowhere near land.”

“What?”

Riese could hardly believe it, but as they neared, it became apparent exactly what it was.

The ship veered to the right, and more looming masses of stone appeared in the night, lights glowing at the peaks. There were five total, that Riese could tell.

“It is known as the Eyrie,” Deven said. “A long lost secret of Valucia.”

The ship slowed, gliding between two of the floating mountains.

Riese drew a long cold breath, her entire body shivering now. Wind pressed against her body, and she held tight to the rail, her knowledge of the world unraveling once more.

There are more Spires in the world?

The Sky Captain barked an order as the runeship drew up close to one of the levitating peaks, adjusting furiously as they slowed. From the mists, a short wooden dock jutted out from the top of the mound of rock, and the vessel came to a stop.

Soldiers transformed, clothes vanishing, dark wings shooting out from their backs.

The Morphs flew from the ship and fixed ropes to large metal hooks, tethering them to the skydock. In the mists, it was difficult to make out just how large the spire was, but Riese could not see to the other side.

The crew began to disembark across a plank with rails on both sides, anchored firmly with ropes on both the ship and the dock. The ship swayed in the swells of the storm, but they were sheltered from the wind on this side of the spire.

Rising from the darkness, there was a lone building made of stone that was weathered and crumbling, older than anything Riese had ever seen. Except in the Abyss.

“Shall we?” Deven asked.

Half the crew had disembarked. Riese struggled to find words.

“I… what is this?”

Deven shrugged as Rykus joined them at the plank.

“You’re trying to act confused,” said Deven.

“We’re still learning to trust one another,” said Rykus. “So, I don’t begrudge you anything. But understand, we’re risking much bringing you here.”

“That was your choice to bring me here. Not mine.”

Rykus made his way across the plank and turned back from the safety of the docks. “You’re going to have to take a side, Riese. All your people will.”

“Might as well make an informed decision, right?” Deven said.

Riese hesitated. “And if I choose wrong? Am I really supposed to believe you’ll let me live after I’ve seen your hideout?”

“Well, surely, not with your dragon. But you could never find this place.”

Riese crossed her arms.

Deven softened her gaze and brushed her shoulder. This time, Riese didn’t flinch. “If you choose to forsake your dragon and your destiny, I will take you back to Faltara myself. But if you truly believe we’re as heartless as the Atticans your people have served for so long, well, you’re dead either way, I expect.”

Riese followed the woman across the board of wood, skies plummeting on either side. Her vision swam once more, and she had to focus on placing each foot in the center of the board. She was not sure what she was doing, but something deep inside her told her this was the right path.

A few more steps, and Riese stood on solid ground, feeling as though she were walking in a dream.

The lone structure was unassuming, barely larger than the mead hall back home, minus the wall surrounding it. A few flying Morphs soared over the entrance wall, and then, the ten foot wooden doors groaned open, and Captain Rykus led the way through, Deven and Riese following quickly after.

They entered a hall about fifty feet across, circular in shape, entirely flat but for a staircase on one side. The room contained no tapestries, no murals, no statues, just walls made of crude rectangular stones that looked to have been taken from these very Spires. All contained the same brown tint as the ground outside.

One of the Morphs entered behind them in human form, holding a small wooden chest, and Riese felt a burst of warmth in her spirit. Deven took the chest from the man.

“Are those…” Riese began.

Deven nodded. “All three eggs from the festival. Yours among them. Though I expect you’ve already felt it.”

Riese felt a deep longing inside. The warm resonance reaching for hers, filling her with hope. With light.

Captain Rykus approached, placed a hand on the runemarked chest. It flashed at his touch, and he uttered words in a strange tongue.

Carefully, he opened the top and withdrew the resplendent emerald egg that had been burned in Riese’s memory.

Rykus smiled. “A breathtaking marvel, isn’t it?” He turned the egg over in his hands, scales shimmering in the low lantern light. He drew closer, and the radiance in Riese’s spirit flared even stronger. The feeling consumed her awareness. Being so close to the egg. To the soul tethered to her own, even if it had not yet come into the world.

He held it out to her. “You are bound to this dragon, Riese Torendeil. Campos made sure of that. But it is not yours, will never be yours, unless it hatches, and that requires sacred knowledge, ancient rites. The window is short. If you and this egg were to be separated for long, the bond would fade, and the spirit of the dragon within would seek another to release it from dormancy.”

“Speak plainly, Captain Rykus.”

“You’ve seen a taste of one path you nearly took. The fate of a Dragonmount of Attica, sent to burn innocents. Should you forsake this bond and return home, you would choose a second path. You might feel depressed for awhile at the absence, but the memory of the bond would fade, and you would only be tormented by the question of what might have been. But there is a third path. Would you like to see it?”

She spared a glance at Deven, still holding the chest. The young woman smiled.

Riese took the egg from Rykus’s hands. The dragon’s resonance pressed against her spirit, a near tangible urging. She had to know. Both of them did.

“Show me,” she said.

Rykus closed the chest, took it from Deven, then crossed the room, making for the staircase, which descended below this hall.

It was wide enough for several people to walk abreast and wound downward out of sight. Riese followed Rykus, and Deven came after.

They wanted something from her, but Riese was growing to trust them. Or at least, she didn’t fear them. This rebellion needed her. And she needed to know more.

The staircase wound down for what must have been several hundred steps, walls lining the staircase the entire time. Wind rushed upward, growing stronger as they went. All at once the inner wall faded, opening into a massive lower hall, two or three times the size of the one above. They descended from the top of the second chamber, which was much taller than the other. The room glowed with an incandescent light emanating from the floor.

As they neared the bottom, Riese realized she could see through the floor, like looking through foggy glass. The pulse of hish was furious here. She could not draw it in with the collar on, but she could feel the power rushing just as powerfully as the wind.

“We’re near the base of the mountain,” Rykus said, grinning at the bottom of the stairs. A small walkway formed a rim around the expanse. Riese gazed up to find a domed cavern filled with menacing spears of stone in the ceiling. She gazed closer at the floor, and realized the wind was rushing from the floor itself. It was not glass. The floor was open, and those were clouds. Mists surging beneath them.

The wind and hish filled Riese’s senses with a near-overwhelming charge of energy. The egg in her hands pulsed, urging her onward.

Captain Rykus moved to the very edge of the walkway and peered into the expanse. Riese inched closer trying to make sense of the strange glowing coloration. Near the rim, the skies were dark, but the colors shifted as they neared the center of the expanse. Lighter shades of blue and white clouds.

It was so different from the passage Riese had experienced, but she knew this feeling. It was unfathomable, and yet, she knew exactly what this expanse was. She’d seen that strange film before, peering through to a different sky.

“So, this isn’t your first time,” Deven said, standing beside her.

“No... well, not like this... but... how do you…”

“How do you cross?” Rykus asked. “You jump.”

“Jump?”

“Or fly,” said Deven.

“Yes, flying is preferred for this particular passage.” With a surge of hish, Rykus levitated from the ground. Only a few inches, but it was no less jolting. Awe-inspiring. Marvelous.

Rykus drifted out over the expanse, still holding the chest.

Deven transformed into her Morph form and reached out a leathery hand.

Riese cradled her dragon egg in the crook of her arm, tight against her chest, and clasped Deven’s hand with the other hand. Fear and excitement flooded her.

But from the egg, she felt a sense of calm. The way her father’s presence had comforted her as a child.

This was the right path.

“Ready?” Deven asked.

Riese took in a long breath, and nodded.

Magic rushed over her entire body, pulling, lifting, as Deven flapped her wings. And Riese also rose from the ground.

“God’s breath!”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Deven grinned.

With a rush of her wings, they soared over the expanse with a burst of speed that made Riese’s stomach sink.

They plunged downward.

Through a second Gate of the Ancients.