William searched the book like a man possessed. That amulet Tanor was described to be wearing couldn’t be the same one he was thinking of. It couldn’t be the same necklace Cutter tore down an entire prison just to find. He wanted to be mistaken. He had to be mistaken. But until it was confirmed, he couldn’t sleep or think about anything else.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Karl asked.

William ignored him and continued his frantic search. The coincidence and its implications gave him chills. The translation was going surprisingly smooth. He could recognize some of the words and make educated guesses on the ones he didn’t. The translator's notes lay forgotten in the far corner of the desk to bring the light closer and aid in his search.

Finally his eyes settled on the words he had been dreading.

The words “Eye of the All-Mother” were easily visible in the center of the page. He quickly backtracked several lines, hoping it was merely a mention or debunking the possibility.

For it was the sacred object, the Eye of the All-Mother, that gave her power.

He sank into his chair and rested his head on his hands.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on?” Karl asked.

“What does it all mean?” William replied under his breath. “Did she know about this?”

“Enough with the suspense! What did you find?”

William snatched his head up and stared at the man, suddenly remembering he wasn’t alone in the room. With another heavy sigh, he explained his latest findings.

“I don’t get it,” Karl said once the explanation concluded. “You’re saying this ‘Eye’ is somehow…a gift from a god?”

“I’m not sure I understand it either. What I do know is Cutter said whoever wears that necklace is gifted with power should they be found worthy. Those who are not are driven mad. Tanor seemed in control of her senses which means she was blessed by the All-Mother.”

“Assuming that old relic is real.”

“To be frank, I find the alternative to be much more frightening. If Tanor was not gifted divine power, it means her strength was natural and that means any dragon can be like she was.”

Karl fell back in his seat and scratched his head. “So that’s our options? Either she’s chosen by the gods or she’s what every dragon can become? Do you not hear how crazy that sounds? And you wonder why we locked those beasts up.”

William shot a glare over his shoulder but bit his tongue. That “prison” was nothing more than a glorified slaughterhouse. Whatever noble purpose it had meant to serve had long since been tainted.

But arguing over that could come later. There were more pressing concerns. Getting the Eye of the All-Mother from Cutter was already an objective, but now it had to become top priority. A worrying thought crossed his mind. If Cutter worked with Lyndria who knew about the Eye, was that the reason for all of this? Had Lyndria been looking for the Eye all these centuries?

“Regardless, we cannot allow the dragons to possess the artifact so long as its validity is unconfirmed,” William said. “It is in Cutter’s possession now. We must take it from her.”

“How?”

William thought for a moment. Cutter was resourceful and calculated—something he learned the hard way. She had a knack for controlling things. She told him about the Eye so it was likely she expected him to come after it. Such a powerful artifact couldn’t be ignored. Even if it wasn’t real, the very idea of it would give a different kind of power to its wearer.

So she would expect him to come for it sooner or later. Last time, he didn’t consider that possibility. He assumed if they acted quickly and covered their bases, it would give their enemies pause.

Instead, he would try a different approach. Cutter had many enemies and any one of them would love a chance to go after the dragoness. They would distract her while he did what he had to.

But before any of that, he needed to get out of this cell. In here, he was shackled and blinded. They needed to get out and that wasn’t possible at the moment.

Their only hope lay in Cutter making a timely arrival. When that arrival would be, he did not know but until then he planned to keep his head down, follow orders, and wait for his next move.

****

Lyndria wasn’t sure what caused it, but the stench of ash and smoke hung in the air. It had been like that ever since they came south. She suspected it had something to do with the damnable war. The effects were beginning to show everywhere. The wind carrying the ash not only choked the air but began coating everything in a layer of grey.

That was before at least. Now they were too far downwind to see the changes, only taste it in the air. A constant reminder of the current state of the world and that none would escape it.

She growled and dug her claws into the dirt. It felt too much like her life. Yet another home had been taken from her by some upstart Matriarch. Was this going to be her life? Was she cursed? What had she done wrong?

No, she had done nothing wrong. It was Tanor’s fault. Just like when it was Delour’s fault. It was the power-hungry dragons who cared nothing about the ruined lives left in their wake. They were the problem and so long as they were around, she would never know peace.

She was distracted from her ramblings by steps behind her and spun with a savage snarl to greet the interloper.

The lanky dark-skinned human who had been looking after their injuries froze in place and raised his hands. Lyndria snorted and relaxed. His name was Garreth Shroud if she remembered correctly. He was one of their hunters and the only human left after Tanor’s raid. Pure luck saw he was out looking for more meat for their stores before winter hit when Tanor arrived, only to return to everything being destroyed and everyone missing. While she still didn’t trust the man, it was thanks to him her wings healed properly and she could fly again even if his departure and arrival were a little too convenient. But at the time she was in no position to argue and it seemed doubtful Tanor would leave anyone behind to help them recover.

“Just checking on you,” Garreth said. “How’s the wings?”

Whenever she looked at this human, he was an enigma. Most human hunters she came across fit a certain look. Large, muscular, and often smelling of sweat, dirt, and damp fur. Many of them had long wild hair for attracting mates or scaring rivals—she could never tell which. Garreth was the opposite. He was tall, thin, and smelled of grass and berries. He kept his hair short, had no noticeable muscle definition, and yet was somehow one of their best hunters. It always baffled her how humans could be so different and defy the norm.

“A little stiff, but I’ll live,” Lyndria said. “I think I’m good to fly again.”

“Just be careful. You haven’t flown in a while.”

“I’ve lived through worse. Look after the others. I need to take care of something.”

She had to see her sister again. Madrin was supposed to be safe and isolated, but after Tanor, Lyndria wasn’t so sure.

I never should have left her in the first place, she thought, swatting at a loose stone. If I wasn’t so damn prideful and angry--

“Wait! Sareen wanted to talk to you.”

Lyndria folded her wings. Sareen hadn’t said a word since their crushing defeat. None of them had.

“So their egos finally healed?” she asked. “I guess I can see what she wants.”

She followed Garreth away from the clearing and back to where the others were. It didn’t take long for raised voices to reach her. She rolled her eyes. It was better quiet.

“I think she rattled your brain,” Cutter cried. “Tanor’s just a fucking freak! She ain’t blessed by the divine!”

“Oh, grow up!” Sareen retorted. “It is because of your stubbornness and ignorance that we’re in this situation!”

In their camp, Sareen and Cutter stood on opposite sides, both staring daggers at the other. Silias sat behind Sareen, his head bowed like a scolded hatchling.

Lyndria growled and stepped between them. “You two finally start talking after how many weeks and you start arguing?!”

Sareen opened her mouth to argue, but Lyndria slapped the ground with her tail. “I don’t want to hear it! We all got our asses kicked by Tanor! Deal with it!” She rounded on Cutter next. “And you could’ve warned us! You knew what she could do and you didn’t tell us anything!”

Both Matriarchs fell silent. Lyndria felt liberated. That had been sitting on her mind ever since they left the temple.

Sareen finally broke the silence. “We were not informed because of her own ignorance.”

“Are you starting again?” Lyndria asked.

“Merely explaining the situation,” Sareen replied calmly. “You recall the necklace Tanor wore? Well, it’s an ancient artifact known as the Eye of the All-Mother. It is said the All-Mother gave it to her first-born Ronat to protect her from harm and give her the strength to overcome any challenge.”

Lyndria snorted. She understood why Cutter was so skeptical. “So you’re saying she’s blessed by the divines?”

“Tanor’s always been stronger than normal,” Cutter said. “Sareen’s just pissed she got bent over.”

“At least I attempted to do something instead of cowering in the corner!”

Lyndria slapped the ground with her tail again the crack reverberating through the trees. “ENOUGH! Look, Cutter, I get what you’re saying, but we don’t know if it’s true or not, and we can’t afford to mess up again. Whether the necklace is real or not, Tanor believes it and she’s too powerful as she is.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but if this necklace is so powerful, how did she get it?” Garreth said from his perch on the log. That was another thing about him. He didn’t show the same level of reverie as the other humans. It was something Lyndria always liked about him. For once she could talk to someone who didn’t bow or praise everything she did.

Sareen shifted her weight, her expression betraying her annoyance at Garreth addressing them so openly. “The legend states that Ronat removed the amulet because it takes away the joy of living. Nothing could challenge her, nothing could harm her, and she had nothing to fear.”

“Tanor found a way to have fun,” Cutter mumbled.

“One night while she slept, it was stolen by a creature jealous of her connection to the All-Mother,” Sareen continued, her frown deepening. “The stories are vague and unhelpful beyond this point. However, this amulet is blessed by the All-Mother and anyone not worthy of her blessing will be driven mad.”

“So it’s a lesson about the corrupting influence of power,” Garreth said. “Sounds about right. Give too much power to someone who can’t handle it and they practically lose their minds.”

“I don’t care what the legend is about!” Lyndria said. “Just get to the part where it tells us how to kill the bitch.”

Cutter gave a short laugh. “And they call me hot-headed. But I’m starting to think you really can’t kill Tanor.”

“If you truly believe that, then why did you seek our assistance?” Sareen asked.

Cutter started at the ground. “I can’t do nothing. You don’t know what she’s really like. Tanor’s top bitch and she knows it. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Even if it’s a futile effort?”

“Better than living with my ass in the air, waiting for my turn to get fucked.”

“Then stop lying to us,” Lyndria said. “We need to know what we’re up against.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Cutter said, nodding slowly. “So you oughta know Tanor learned this new ability even before she found that stupid necklace. She can freeze her body and harden her scales.”

“If you knew about this ability, why didn’t you speak up sooner?” Sareen cried.

“I was gonna but I didn’t expect her to jump on our tails so soon!”

Lyndria tilted her head. This was the first she heard of any dragon using an ability like that. Perhaps it was exclusive to Celestials. But it didn’t change the fact that she had to deal with it.

Garreth whistled. “That’s pretty impressive for offense and defense. But how are you supposed to beat that?”

“Ice can melt,” Lyndria said.

“But she’s not going to stand there while you breathe on her.”

“We will need to master our own abilities in order to counter her,” Sareen said. “A brute force approach will not work. Our only hope will be to face her equal footing.”

“I don’t think I can control my body temperature,” Lyndria said.

“As different species, we cannot hope to mimic her,” Sareen said. “We will have to discover our own abilities.”

Before Lyndria could ask what abilities they were supposed to learn, a crackling sound filled the air. Sareen’s body glowed as electricity arced through her scales. Metallic objects lifted into the air, hovered for a moment, then fell to the ground. Silence fell on them as Sareen’s scales returned to their usual grey.

“Dragons can do that?” Garreth asked. “No wonder people worshipped them.”

“It’s something I’ve been cultivating for months,” Sareen said. “But I still have a long way to go before it’s viable.”

Lyndria said nothing. So that was the reason behind Sareen’s constant training. It bothered her a bit that Sareen never bothered to explain this power to her. Did she not trust her? Was she planning on using it against her?

“What about your not-chosen?” Cutter asked. “Is he any good at it?”

“Silias is the one who taught me,” Sareen replied. “Unfortunately, he stands little chance against a Matriarch of Tanor’s caliber.”

Hearing Silias’ name mentioned reminded Lyndria that the drake had been there the whole time. He still said nothing and stared at the ground. She wasn’t sure why but seeing him that way, angered her. The drake was often silent during their conversations and rarely spoke anyway. But this was different. Even she could tell. Tanor had broken him. He who always jumped to Sareen’s defense, who always fought for her no matter what, who showed no fear. He now cowered and shook at the mere mention of Tanor’s name.

She growled and stomped away. This was unreal. Just one Matriarch was able to do this much damage. Was Tanor that strong or was their resolve just that weak? The strength of a Matriarch came from her will, her desire to make her wish a reality. None of them could be considered lacking in that department, so what did they do wrong?

Once she was far enough that she could no longer hear her companion’s voices, she paced and thought back to that day, analyzing every little detail down to her breathing to see where it all went wrong. Where their weakness had cost them.

Thinking about it only made her angrier. Her tail lashed at the nearby trees and her claws dug up clumps of dirt with every step. The memories flooded through her in an uncontrolled loop and each iteration made her temper rise. They weren’t just outplayed, they were outmatched. And worse, Tanor knew it. That was why she had come alone.

Sareen’s words echoed in her mind: “We grew fat and lazy, possessing only a fraction of the power we once had.” That power had to be the “awakening” Tanor referred to; the power Sareen showed. They were capable of so much more but had forgotten it over the centuries.

But Tanor showed it wasn’t forgotten. Some dragons remembered the old ways and sought that old strength. But was that really all there was to it? Would having this “awakening” really put them on equal footing?

“You’re overthinking it,” Garreth said.

Lyndria whirled around, startled by the human’s sudden appearance. Silently, she cursed her lack of awareness. Anyone could have snuck up on her. That kind of weakness would not make her strong enough for what lay ahead.

The human casually strode closer, taking no heed of her shock or her defensive posture. “She got in your head and you’re scared. That’s not good. You’ll never beat her that way.”

Lyndria snorted. “And you’re an expert? Or you really want me to believe you’re not scared?”

“I’m a human. Fear comes with the territory.” He motioned to his skinny body. “Look at me. I’m not outrunning anything, and I won’t stand a chance in a straight fight. Even armed, you could kill me easily. But we weak, squishy humans have somehow challenged the mighty immortal dragons.”

“And?”

“Sometimes it’s not about who’s stronger, it’s about who wants it more.”

Lyndria laughed and sat on a pile of leaves. “Yeah, I don’t think that logic applies here.”

Garreth smiled as he sat on the fallen log nearby. “You don’t understand. A human doesn’t face a dragon head-on. It’s a death sentence. You need to treat this Tanor the same way. If she is blessed by the All-Mother, you don’t stand a chance in a straight fight.”

Lyndria’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. Of course. She had come to that same conclusion when she killed Delour. Instead of challenging the traitor directly, she snuck in at night. It was cowardly and ensured the clan would never accept her, but she didn’t care.

It was just as her mother said when she taught her and Madrin how to hunt and fight. “Always do things on your terms,” their mother had said. “If you let them dictate the pace, you’ll always be at a disadvantage.”

“Is that really all there is to it?” Lyndria mumbled.

“What you say?”

“Nothing. But you have a point. Except, we’re still not strong enough. Until we have our ‘awakening’ or whatever, we’ll never be able to take her down.”

“Then get it. How do you dragons unlock it anyway?”

She didn’t have an answer for that, but Sareen should. The Stormborne had unlocked hers after all.

Lyndria hurried back to camp. The others were still there discussing strategy. Cutter was the first to notice her return.

“Sareen, how did you unlock your power?” Lyndria asked.

“It was merely a matter of concentrating,” Sareen answered. “But I doubt that will help you. I knew where to focus my attention and efforts, and what you are capable of still eludes us.”

“Don’t look at me. I haven’t the slightest fucking clue,” Cutter said.

Sareen quickly added, “You underwent Oracle training, did you not? Perhaps the answer lies in the memories passed on to you.”

Lyndria hadn’t practiced meditating since her Oracle training, but she needed answers and no one else could give them. For the first time, she cursed her brashness and wished she had paid more attention during training. But back then, getting revenge was all that mattered.

She lay on the ground, tucking her limbs beneath her body, then closed her eyes and took several slow, deep breaths, feeling her body relax with each exhale until the rest of the world slipped away from her, deeper into a meditative state, hoping to trigger a memory from past Matriarchs.

Nothing came to mind. The only memories awakened were her own. Either she didn’t know how to unlock those memories or they weren’t there. Either way, she needed guidance from another Oracle or in this case, Nayome.

She opened her eyes and swore. Going back to Nayome meant going back to the clan. After killing the Matriarch and running away, they would kill her on the spot.

No. I need those memories and I’m going to get them one way or another.

“No dice?” Cutter asked.

“No, I’ll need to see Nayome. Maybe she can tell me.”

“Are you sure about this?” Sareen asked. “I thought your clan would never accept you back?”

“Oh, they’ll kill me on sight,” Lyndria said calmly. “But I need those memories, and I’m not letting anyone get in my way.”

“There is s difference between conviction and bravado.”

“Well, I’m convinced that bitch Tanor is gonna die. I want a life. I want to live in peace. To do that, I need a certain Matriarch to get off my back. Besides, do you have a better idea?”

No one spoke. That was good enough for her.

“Look, I’ll be back. If you never hear from me again…You’ll know why.” She started to spread her wings when Sareen called out to her again.

“Silias will go with you,” the Stormborne said.

“But, your grace, I couldn’t—” Silias began.

“I do not wish to send her alone and time is of the essence. A dragon is the only one capable of keeping up with her, and I need Cutter to remain here so we can learn more of Tanor’s power.” She moved closer and added in a low voice, “You need this, Silias. Our defeat by Tanor has left you shaken and I need you at your best for what’s to come.”

Silias said nothing else, only nodded and joined Lyndria’s side.

Sareen approached Lyndria, her eyes no longer holding their usual hard, judging gaze, but a soft fearful one. “Bring him back to me.”

Lyndria wasn’t sure what brought this on but she wasn’t going to complain about having someone watching her back. She nodded and took the air, heading towards the thick columns of smoke in the distance.