Bodran woke up in a cavern in dragon form. His wings were pierced through with chains to prevent transformation, and his feet were shackled together. He saw Etta nearby in a similar state, still unconscious. A dragon in empyrean form stood with a lance steadied at her eye in case she tried to use any of her magic. His father, Vizent, also in dragon form, stared at him through cold silver eyes, from the other side of the cavern.

  “You were my pride, boy,” Vizent said. “You might have saved this world. We had a plan. I didn’t believe it when they told me you were a traitor. I searched your eyrie. I found the bonding pattern. Why did you do it? Why would you bond with the Imperial Princess? Was all the preparation for the mission just an act? How long have you been a spy for the Empire.”

  “I found it in a book,” Bodran said. He stood to his full height and met his father’s eyes. “I didn’t know what it was until it was too late.”

  “Unlikely,” Vizent said. “You never did enjoy the training. Always in your books. What did they promise you, a trip to their library? If it was an accident, why didn’t you put an end to that Wyrmhole bitch the moment you laid eyes on her? That I could have respected. Why did you bring her here?”

  Bodran fought the urge to take a deep breath. An inhalation was a threat in dragon parlance, and with Bodran’s strong affinity, it wouldn’t be an idle one. He could see his father had already made up his mind that Bodran had betrayed him, and once that man made up his mind, there was no changing it. Bodran needed to stall for time and come up with a plan.

  Bodran had two affinities. Energy and Connection. Both were unique as far as he knew. The Energy Affinity had first come out as a Sound Affinity, and he’d always let everyone think that’s all it was. Dragons advanced by killing their betters, and Bodran knew the value of secretly being stronger. When he had found he was able to manipulate energy in all its forms with his Affinity, he’d kept that to himself. The magic cast with an Affinity required no ritual or time to cast, it was done with pure instinct. He learned spells for things like lightning and fire, and always pretended to spend the time needed to cast them so no one would know. All that was about to pay off. The air in the room began to gather static. He kept talking to buy time.

  “I brought her here to get supplies,” Bodran said. “When we saw the predicament our bond created, we decided to flee the Empire entirely.”

  The static Bodran was emitting found its way to Etta’s bonds. Electricity played through them, gathering at the releases. Then it tickled over her body, just enough to encourage her to wake, just enough for him to Connect to her so she could see the situation through his eyes. His father had always considered his connection affinity weak and shameful, never realizing how much Bodran used it every day.

  Vizent sneered, “Why would the heir to the Empire need to hide from the Empire when she could just lock you away? The fact that you are free is all the evidence I need. You are one of them now. I can’t let you go. You know too much.”

  Bodran shook his head. “Because the Empress is as paranoid as you are and she can always make more heirs.”

  Bodran felt Etta’s mind coming to focus and he sent her an image of the empyrean holding a lance to her eye. She sent back a feeling of contempt that anyone thought such a thing would be enough to control her. Bodran hoped she was right.

  “Just another reason to kill her,” Vizent said. You were destined to die to save this world anyway. Instead of taking The Empress with you, I will settle for a princess.” Vizent motioned to the lance wielder who drew back to deal a killing blow to Etta, but before he could plunge the lance into her eye, her head snapped toward him, maw opening. There was a crunch, and a dragon Bodran had known his whole life was wyrm food. The lance crumpled in Etta’s mouth as if it hadn’t been covered in wyrm-killing enchantments.

  Bodran sent his will through the energy with his Synergy ability and the shackles fell away. The chains connecting their wings to the ceiling fell to individual links.

  Bodran inhaled.

  So did Vizent.

  They exhaled at the same moment. Vizent spewed a corrosive cloud then got blown backward by a thunderous bolt of lightning. Bodran didn’t inhale. He knew what that gas would do inside his lungs and he hoped Etta did as well. He didn’t dare take the time to weave a non-affinity spell like the ones used to allow dragons to breathe in space. He’d practiced ‘expiring’ and holding his breath his whole life. His father knew that he could fight without air for a long time. The attack was meant only to keep him from using his breath weapon again.

  Vizent picked himself up from the base of the wall he’d slammed into. One of his wings was a little crooked, and he had scorch marks radiating out from his chest, but it didn’t seem like that had slowed him down in the slightest. The silhouette of another dragon filled the entrance to the cave. It was Alfior, Bodran’s martial arts instructor.

  “He’s bonded to the Imperial Princess,” Vizent shouted. “He admitted it. Kill one of them and we kill them both. The female is a pampered palace brat. She’ll be easy prey.”

  Bodran wasn’t worried. When they first met, Etta had kicked his ass with sheer magical mastery. Queens might look like they were plump and slow, but when it came to magic, they had more raw magical power and stamina than any other dragon. Each time they expended it, it set back the timing of their next clutch, but it was always a good bet they had deep reserves when they needed it. And it was clear she’d been given as much tutoring as he had, if not more.

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  Alfior morphed to his empyrean form, a spear that crackled with dragon-slaying runes appeared in his hand. He charged at Etta using his Speed Affinity. He struck her scales on the chest in a blow that should have pierce her heart. Sparks flew, but it just bounced off.

  “This pampered brat has achieved the third tier,” she said. Her voice rumbled off the cavern walls. She couldn’t inhale to make a breath attack because of the poison gas, but neither could Alfior. She morphed into Empyrean form. It was fast. No doubt she was showing off her mastery of magic to intimidate.

  A third sphere core meant a third Affinity… one that could be chosen. If Bodran had to guess, he’d say her third sphere was shields, and that she wasn’t new to it.

  Alfior backed away and took a more serious fighting stance. Etta matched it as a green and copper quarterstaff with filigree and runes appeared in her hands. It hummed with magic. She and Alfior began their duel, but Bodran didn’t have time to watch.

  Vizent launched himself from a crouch and went for Bodran’s throat. Bodran turned just in time, and Vizent’s teeth dug deep into his shoulder instead. They grappled. Bodran’s superior size and strength made it impossible for Vizent to control him, but he wasn’t trying to control his son, he was trying to kill him. He raked at Bodran’s belly scales with his back claws and thrashed his head side to side doing more damage to Bodran’s shoulder. Bodran fought back, tearing at Vizent’s back with his front claws and trying to get his back feet between them, but the smaller dragon was in tight and it was hard for Bodran to get the space he needed to do damage. Bodran took control of the links that littered the floor using his Energy-Connection Synergy to form them back into a chain. They snaked around Vizent’s throat and pierced through his wings. Bodran pulled with all the energy he could muster. Vizent didn’t release his bite as the chains tore him away, and a piece of Bodran went with him.

  Etta was good with her staff, but she knew her opponent was better. Another blow that should have ended her bounced off her magical force armor. She knew if she hadn’t taken the Shield Affinity and if she hadn’t been building her queen-sized mana capacity for many years, she’d have lost three times over. Another benefit to the Shield Affinity was that she could breathe inside her protective barrier, safe from Vizent’s acid. Alfior had to fight with whatever oxygen he’d come into the room with. He was slowing down.

  He might have landed more than a dozen hits on Etta, but when she landed her first blow, it was over. The crack of his skull resounded through the cavern. He went down and she wasted no time in finishing him off.

  Bodran had to force himself not to think about it. His mentor was dead. His mentor had tried to kill him. If there was one dragon Bodran had thought would be on his side, it was Alfior. He felt Etta’s shield magic pushing the toxic gas out of the room, and he knew he had to finish his fight too. The weak must die to make room for the strong. It was the way of dragons. His father stopped struggling, and looked him in the eye, dangling by his neck and wings via the same chains he’d used to bind his son. Vizent wouldn’t thank him for sparing his life. He would berate him for showing mercy and never have any respect for him if he did. But Bodran wasn’t like most dragons. He didn’t want to kill his father.

  He pulled the chains tighter, backing away from his father and taking a deep breath. He would make it quick – use the whole of his mana for this one last attack.

  Etta must have sensed that he didn’t want to be the one to do it because a lance of white hot flame went through Vizent’s eye. The light shone through his mouth and other eye for a moment before he slumped, lifeless, dangling from the chain, held aloft only by Bodran’s magic.

  Bodran dropped him. Three dead dragons that he’d known his whole life. Three dragons that had, ever since Bodran’s unusual size and affinity had come to light, planned to use him to end the Empress at the cost of his own life.

  No one but Bodran would care. A dead dragon was a weak dragon.

  Etta walked up to him, still in Empyrean form. She was holding her ribcage and now that he was paying attention, he could see she was in pain. That first blow didn’t penetrate her scales, but it had done damage nonetheless.

  She put her hand on his shoulder. “You are going to bleed out if you don’t change form and get some bandages on those tears.”

  “Bodran nodded and did as she asked.” His shoulder was missing a big chunk and his abdomen was covered in deep vertical slashes.

  Etta pulled some long white strips out of thin air. “Space Affinity. Tier 2. Even before I could make wyrmholes I could store things.” She wrapped his wounds like she knew what she was doing.

  “It’s a safe bet my mother will find out about all this eventually. Soulby has spies everywhere. But we probably have time.”

  “Ah, so what do you think they’ll do when they get here?”

  “They’ll naturally be curious about who bonded me and why we didn’t come back, and if you aren’t here, anyone who knows you is going to be taken for questioning. Soulbi has the Truth Affinity. Everyone who knows about the rebellion will be put to death. Soulbi will likely get every connection they have out of them. I’ll give you a few hours to gather anyone you care about and as many supplies as we can carry, then we’ll need to get back to the Wyrmcraft and jump it so far away no one can follow. We will need people to serve us. The Andonthan’s you bring will do well.”

  Bodran nodded. “You seem… different? Calmer.”

  “I have accepted this new trajectory, and I can see now that you are worthy of the position you have claimed at my side. The human and the cat are another matter. Their weakness is a threat to our survival. They cannot be allowed off the wyrmcraft, and no one can know what they are to us. They’ll need cores and training, but we don’t want to give them too much power. I want them dependent on us.”

  Bodran was still nodding. “I agree on all but one count. Their planet isn’t like most. They possess no magical abiliity, but they accomplish feats we could not imagine without magic. I want to go there and learn from them. Perhaps with me there to guard them they won’t come to any harm.”

  “We’ll see,” Etta said.

  Bodran suppressed a growl and made sure there was no connection between them so she wouldn’t feel how irritating her imperiousness was.

  “Well, get to it,” Etta said. She handed him a stone. “This links to my spatial storage. You won’t be able to fill it to capacity, so take whatever you like. But hurry. The longer it takes, the more likely we are to have to deal with my mother’s legions. And don’t worry overmuch about who you can trust. Take anyone and anything useful. I’m taking the wyrmcraft so far it won’t be possible for the Empire to find us, much less follow us. We are going to see what this new Galaxy can do for us.