Inferno: the thrilling final novel in the Talon saga from New York Times bestselling author Julie Kagawa

Riley

“This is bloody impossible, Riley.” Wes sighed.

I glared at him. The six of us—myself, Ember, St. George, Mist, Jade and Wes—stood in what had once been the tornado shelter of the old farmhouse. It had been repurposed as the command center, mostly because it was the only room that could fit four dragons, a hacker and a soldier of St. George without curious hatchlings wandering in. And that was a good thing, because my temper was running very short, and I was likely to snap at the first teenager who poked his head in wanting to know what we were doing.

The rest of the trip from Brazil had been uneventful. No ambushes, no vessels or agents of Talon leaping out to kill us in the middle of the jungle. No ancient Wyrm swooping in to swallow us in one bite. Though Ember had ranted a bit about spending more time in airport lines than the meeting with Ouroboros. We’d left the Amazon, caught a ride back to civilization and flown home as quickly as we could. I’d arrived at the farmhouse half dreading Talon had already come and that nothing remained but charred, blackened skeletons of both buildings and hatchlings in their wake. But nearly everything was as I left it, and everyone was accounted for: twelve hatchlings, one human hacker and two female dragons. As she had promised, Jade had taken over in my absence, and the hatchlings had developed an almost fanatical respect for the Asian woman.

Mist had been with them, as well, though no one could tell me what she had been doing while we were in Brazil. I’d told Wes what we’d learned as soon as I could reach him, and Mist had gotten ahold of that information, too, because somehow she had been able to acquire an old map of the island, one that detailed the layout of the facility, the buildings, the fence line, everything. When I’d demanded to know where the hell she had gotten it, she’d told me her employer had been able to dig up the old blueprint and send it to her. She wouldn’t say anything more, except that her mystery employer wished us luck with our mission, that he approved of us taking down the facility and would send us more information as he acquired it.

Of course, I’d been suspicious as hell, but I couldn’t argue that having a map to the unnamed island in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle was a godsend. I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but I couldn’t decide if having the Basilisk around was worth the paranoia. I would have to deal with her eventually, but rescuing the breeders came first.

Unfortunately, after studying the map and discussing the security Talon would likely have set up around the island, it was becoming increasingly clear that we didn’t have a chance.

“Dammit,” I snarled, slamming a palm onto the table where the map had been laid out, smoothed over, pointed at and argued about. We’d been stuffed into this dimly lit hole for several hours, trying to come up with some sort of plan for storming a Talon-owned island facility without getting killed, and we were no closer to rescuing the breeders than we’d been when we first started. The problems were always the same. How were the six of us going to sneak onto a heavily guarded island, make our way past the security and defenses and numerous Talon employees, to get to the breeders? And even if we did get to them, how were we going to sneak them off again? There could be several hundred dragons on that island, some of whom were likely to be pregnant and unable to Shift to human form. We certainly couldn’t herd them all down to the water and tell them to swim for it.

I raked a hand over my scalp, feeling like I was beating my head against a wall as the truth slowly crept over me. There were too few of us. Six individuals, no matter how skilled, stubborn or determined, would not be able to pull this off. We didn’t have the bodies, and we didn’t have the resources. If we attempted to rescue the breeders on our own, we would all die.

Still, I couldn’t give up. I had spent too many years searching for the facilities to stop now. I knew where the breeders were; I’d promised myself I’d free them all if I ever found them. I wasn’t going to stop until I figured this out.

“There has to be a way,” I growled, staring at the map again, as if a solution would suddenly make itself clear. “Something we’re missing. Something we haven’t thought of.”

“Riley,” Wes said. “It’s in the middle of the bloody ocean, mate. You’re not going to float there on a raft. And who knows how much armed security is between you and the breeders? Not to mention all the normal Talon employees, all the people who actually take care of the dragons, the facility and the island. It’ll be like assaulting an amusement park.”

“I don’t want excuses,” I snapped at him. “I don’t want you to tell me it’s impossible. I want you to figure out a way to rescue the dragons Talon has been using as fucking broodmares for years. There has to be a way to do this.”

“There is.”

Ember’s voice floated to me through the darkness. I looked up and saw the red hatchling standing quietly beside the soldier, one fist against her chin in thought. Her green eyes were narrow and solemn as they rose to mine. “There is a way,” she continued. “But...you’re not going to like it.

“We can’t do this alone,” the red hatchling went on, looking to the others, as well. “I think everyone has realized that. It will be next to impossible to get to the breeders, and even if we do, we don’t have a way to get them all off the island. We need help.” She glanced at St. George beside her, and her jaw tightened. “We’re going to need the Order.”

Oh, fuck that.

I was about to follow up the thought with the actual words when Jade cut me off. “Listen to her, Riley,” the Asian dragon urged. “We cannot do this ourselves, that is very clear. We have allied with the Order in the past. So far they have kept their word and have not hunted us down.”

“That was different,” I said. “We were saving their hides back then. They didn’t have much of a choice. I sure as hell am not giving the Order of St. George the location of Talon’s breeder females. What do you think will happen if we take a bunch of dragonslayers onto that island, where there will be countless female dragons with no way to escape? What do you think the breeders will do if they see St. George storming the facility? It’ll be a fucking massacre.”

“Normally, I would agree with you.” Shockingly, this came from the soldier, making Ember frown at him. He stood quietly at the edge of the table, gazing down at the map. “Giving the Order the location of the facility...” His brow furrowed. “It’s a risky move. Riley is correct—St. George has always suspected Talon has a place where they keep many of their female dragons. In the Order...” He hesitated, as if reluctant to continue, before saying in a grave voice, “The highest priority was always taking out the female dragons, because without them, the race couldn’t survive. In any other circumstances, I wouldn’t go to the Order. Martin may be honorable, and some of his soldiers are beginning to realize that not all dragons are the same. But if St. George discovers that the largest population of female dragons is together in one spot...” He shook his head. “Riley has every right to be concerned.

“But,” he added before I could feel vindicated, “these aren’t normal circumstances. Ember is right—there are too few of us to fight a war. We need allies, and the Order of St. George might be the only ones who can help. They’re scattered and broken, but they still have resources we could leverage. If we can get to the Order and convince them that we’re better off standing together, we might have a chance to pull this off.”

I tried very hard not to snarl at them both. “If they listen to us at all,” I said. “And decide not to shoot us in the back of the head the second we set foot on that island.”

“What else are we going to do, Riley?” Ember asked in a reasonable voice. “We don’t have many choices. Talon is still out there trying to kill us and probably the Order, as well. They don’t want any survivors, and if this keeps up, there will be no one left who can stand against the organization. How long before they decide they don’t need the breeder dragons, too?”

“Dammit,” I growled, clenching a fist. They were right; we were out of options, and time was running out. As much as I hated it, it seemed we were going to have to ally with the dragonslayers one more time. “All right.” I sighed. “But if this turns into a slaughter, that’s it, do you hear me? I’ve already lost too many hatchlings to this stupid war. If St. George decides it would rather shoot us than try to stop Talon, I’m done with them for good, understand?” Neither of them answered, though Ember gave a solemn nod. “All right,” I muttered. “So, how exactly are we going to get the Order of St. George to listen to us again without taking off our heads? Teaming up to survive the Night of Fang and Fire was one thing. How the hell are we going to convince an army of dragonslayers to rescue an island of dragons?”

“I’ll contact Lieutenant Martin,” the soldier said. “He, at least, will hear me out. And for the rest of the Order, we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

“Fine. Make the call, St. George. And let’s hope this doesn’t turn into a massacre.”

Mist stirred, glancing at the ladder leading out of the storm cellar. “If we’re done here,” she said, and it was more of a statement than a question, “I’ll excuse myself.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Got somewhere to be, Mist?”

She gave me a somewhat evil smile that said she knew exactly what I was thinking. “Nowhere in particular,” she said. And without waiting for me to reply, she walked across the room, swung onto the ladder and disappeared through the hatch.

Suspicion flared. I wanted to ask again about the mysterious employer that she was obviously going to contact. That he could so easily “acquire” the map to a top-secret island run by dragons seemed too good to be true. You didn’t just happen to have those things lying around. But I knew Mist would never reveal his identity unless he gave the order himself, and that worried me. The ex-Basilisk wasn’t working for Talon, but she wasn’t working for us, either. This employer of hers might be helping us now, but if he suddenly decided to have her sabotage everything we were fighting for, she would do so without hesitation.

I needed to find out what she knew. Who her employer really was. And if Mist wasn’t going to volunteer the information herself, then I would just have to get it some other way.

Ember

“This is it,” Garret murmured.

From the backseat I peered past his shoulder to gaze up at the church in the middle of the clearing. Not a tiny wooden thing with a single room, either; this was a large stone building with a high steepled roof, soaring arched windows and a bell tower. Its walls were covered in moss, the roof tinged green, but the windows were all intact, and despite the emptiness of it all, it looked like it had been somewhat taken care of.

“Martin and the others are inside,” Garret said, gazing up at the building, too. “This is one of the Order’s safe houses. If any of the other chapterhouses survived, they would rendezvous here.”

“Great.” Riley opened his door with a grimace. “All right, then, three dragons and an ex-soldier knocking on the Order’s door. Let’s get this over with.”

“Have fun, kiddos,” Wes said, waving cheerfully beside me in the backseat. “I’ll just stay here and keep the car warm, in case the bullets start flying.”

We piled out of the Jeep, the three dragons in question—me, Riley and Mist. The only one missing was Jade, who had offered to stay back at the farm and watch the hatchlings, much to Riley’s relief. I knew he would have been even more reluctant to come if he’d had to leave his underground alone. Following Garret, we walked toward the large wooden doors at the top of the steps, where a guard waited beside the frame, watching us approach. He wore normal clothes instead of a St. George uniform, and would’ve looked like a regular person, if not for the M14 held in both hands.

“Sebastian,” he said as we stopped at the top of the stairs. His voice and stance weren’t overly hostile, but they definitely weren’t welcoming.

“Williams,” Garret returned. “Are you here to escort us in?”

The other soldier snorted. “The lieutenant ordered me to let you pass, you and your lizards.” He jerked his head through the door. “So get going. Last door on the right. He’s waiting for you.”

We did as he instructed, ducking into a dim, cool hall that soared high overhead. Light streamed through the tinted windows, casting colorful shadows over the floor, and a hush hung in the air. It was almost peaceful here, despite the tension on the faces of the few soldiers we passed, their gazes suspicious. We reached the last door on the right without being challenged, and Garret knocked on the wood.

“Enter.”

Lieutenant Martin stood in the corner of a tiny office, bookshelves lining the wall and a worn-out desk beneath them. He was speaking to a tall, lean soldier with short black hair, and my heart leaped as I recognized him. Garret drew in a short breath.

“Tristan,” he said, his voice soft with relief. “You made it.”

“Surprised?” The other soldier smirked at him. He had a bandage square taped to his temple, and the shadow of a bruise under one eye, but he was alive and on his feet, not motionless in a hospital bed. “I couldn’t let you take all the glory, could I?”

“Sebastian.” Martin came around the desk, and Tristan fell silent. His black eyes flicked over me and the others. “So, you’re back with the lizards,” he said in a neutral voice. “Has Talon made their move yet? Do we need to prepare for another attack?”

“No, sir,” Garret said. “We...have a request this time. For the Order.” Martin raised a brow, and Garret stepped aside. “I think it’s best that Riley explain it.”

Tristan and Martin looked to the rogue, who gave a heavy sigh, as if he still couldn’t believe he was doing this, and came forward.

“We have a problem,” he said without preamble. “And frankly, you have the same problem, St. George. We’re in a war, but we are completely outnumbered and outgunned. We can’t do anything against Talon, because we don’t have enough bodies to take up the fight.”

“I am well aware, dragon,” Martin said. His voice was calm, not angry or indignant, even when speaking to his ancient enemy. I suddenly realized why Garret respected this man so much. “But the Order of St. George is stretched rather thin at the moment. Am I to assume that you know where we can find more allies?”

The rogue leader nodded. “That’s pretty much the gist of it.”

The lieutenant regarded him solemnly. “And am I also to assume that these...allies...are dragons?” he asked.

Riley sighed again. “Yeah,” he muttered reluctantly. “They’re dragons. Talon has an island, in the North Atlantic Ocean. It’s...where they keep their breeder females. How many are there is anyone’s guess, but they’re the dragons they’ve chosen to produce fertile eggs for the organization, so at least a few.”

Behind Martin, Tristan straightened, eyes widening. “Then it’s true?” he asked in a breathless voice. “There really is a place where Talon keeps all its females.”

Riley glared at him. “Yeah, St. George. There is, and it’s a pretty shitty setup. Dragonells who fail in some way, or who defy the organization, get sent to the facility, to become broodmares for the rest of their lives. They never leave, never get off the island, never have the chance for a normal life. They’re basically prisoners whose only purpose is to pop out eggs for Talon. That sound like a cushy life to you?”

“Dunno.” Tristan smirked. “Private island, all meals provided, nothing to do but sleep, eat and breed? Sounds like heaven to me.”

“St. Anthony,” Martin warned before Riley could explode. “If you cannot behave yourself, you can leave.” Tristan held up both hands, falling silent, and Martin turned back to Riley. “So, these breeders,” he went on. “From your description, I would assume that they are unhappy with Talon’s treatment of them, and would fight the organization if they could?”

“We hope so,” I said as Riley still looked like he might snap Tristan’s head off. “If we can get to the dragonells and free them, we think a few at least will take up the fight with Talon. But we don’t have the numbers to stage a rescue. We can’t get to the island on our own.”

“And that is where you need us,” Martin finished.

“Yes, sir.” Garret nodded. “We hope that the Order would be willing to ally with us, on a more permanent basis. If we combine our people and resources, we’ll have a better chance against Talon.”

Martin didn’t say anything, standing there with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed in thought. “Allying with the rogues would be tactically sound,” he finally agreed, frowning. “However, there are those who would think the Order is being used, that you came to us solely for our help in rescuing these breeder dragons, and when that is done, you will either leave or turn on us.”

“You know that’s not true, sir,” Garret said.

“I know,” Martin agreed. “But I’m not the one you’ll need to convince. I might lead this chapterhouse, but the soldiers are the ones who will be going into battle with you. And if others from St. George show up, what then? How will you convince them that you are not enemies, that you mean the Order no harm?”

“How about not burning this place to the damn ground?” Riley growled. “Or not tearing some idiot’s face off when they keep threatening us? That feels like a pretty good indicator to me.”

Martin’s voice was flat. “It’s not.”

“What do you suggest, Lieutenant?” I asked.

He glanced at me. “If you could do a small task for the Order,” he replied, “work with a few of the soldiers, that would be a sign of goodwill. At the very least, it would be a start.”

“A small task,” Riley repeated. “Of course. And let me guess, you have just the thing in mind, don’t you?”

Martin turned and stepped back around his desk, where several sheets of paper lay across the surface. “The Order took a massive blow when the clones attacked,” he said, picking up one of the documents. “We’ve been scrambling for supplies, resources, anything that will help defend us when we’re attacked again. Recently, I received word about an item that could specifically help our cause. A weapon capable of firing shots with such velocity that it can punch through damn near anything. A high-powered rifle meant to pierce through tanks, armored cars, bunkers...and possibly the chest plates of a full-grown Adult dragon.”

My eyes widened, and Riley gave an incredulous snort.

“Oh, a dragon-killing gun,” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. “That’s definitely something the Order needs. We’ll get right on that.”

“If we are to fight Talon, we need all the resources we can get,” Martin said firmly. “You said so yourself—we are vastly outnumbered and outgunned. We all saw the Adult clone the night the base was attacked. What if Talon has more of them? This might give us an edge against such enemies.”

“Sadly, it doesn’t exist quite yet.” This came from Tristan, indicating the two of them had been discussing the weapon before we came in. I wasn’t surprised. Tristan was the Order’s best sniper; he would certainly be interested in a rifle capable of punching through the armor of a dragon. “It’s a prototype, being designed by the military. But they’re transporting it to another base tomorrow night. And since it’s top secret and they don’t want anyone catching wind of the prototype and possibly stealing it, they’re doing it by train.”

“By train?” Riley repeated. “Why?”

“Possibly to keep it hidden. Military escorts draw attention.” Tristan shrugged. “And a train is harder to hijack, especially if there are armed guards in every car. Which there probably will be.”

“So, let me get this straight.” The rogue leader crossed his arms. “You want us to track down a train guarded by the US military, steal a prototype weapon specifically designed to kill dragons and hand it over to the Order of St. George?”

“Basically?” Tristan looked at Garret, who said nothing. “Yeah.”

“If you do this,” Martin added, “you will be sending a message to the rest of the Order that you are willing to help us, to stand with us. And we will be more inclined to help you, in return.”

“Or we get ourselves killed, and you don’t have to worry about it,” Riley muttered. “No skin off your nose. I don’t see you volunteering any of your men to help.”

“That is not true,” Martin replied calmly. “St. Anthony will be going with you.”

“I... Sir?” Tristan glanced at the lieutenant in surprise.

Martin’s lip curled in a faint smile. “You wanted to see the prototype, St. Anthony. Now’s your chance.” Tristan looked like he wanted to argue, but he was too well disciplined to talk back to his superior officer. Martin narrowed his eyes. “The dragons cannot be the only ones making the sacrifices, soldier,” he said. “The Order of St. George, and this chapterhouse, is more honorable than that. We must meet them halfway at least. Go with Sebastian, procure the weapon and aid them in any way you can. That is an order, St. Anthony.”

Tristan saluted. “Yes, sir.”

“Uh, one question,” Riley said. “How are we supposed to get on this armed train? I assume it’ll be moving. And they’ll certainly notice a car pulling up alongside it.”

Martin gave that faint smile. “A stealthy approach is definitely recommended,” he replied, and I suddenly realized what he was implying. “If I were to plan an attack, I would suggest a drop from above.”

Garret

“It’s late,” Tristan muttered. “That’s not a good sign.”

I glanced at him. There were four of us, sitting on or around an old black jeep, about two hundred yards from the tracks. Me, Tristan, Ember and Riley: two soldiers of St. George and two dragons waiting side by side. I could feel the subtle tension in the soldiers around me, both dragon and human; both sides uncomfortable with having the other so close. Riley and Tristan, in particular, seemed especially agitated. Probably because the first part of the mission involved dropping onto the train from dragonback, and to say neither seemed thrilled with that idea was a gross understatement. But as much as they might hate it, and each other, they would carry the mission through. Tristan because Martin had ordered it, and Riley because he knew we had to secure the Order’s help to reach the facility. I just hoped we could get through this night with no incidents. Missions were difficult enough when your team liked and respected each other; forcing two lifelong enemies to work together was a much riskier operation.

Beside me, Ember was quiet, watching the tracks as we waited on the passenger’s side of the jeep. Like me, she was dressed in black: black sweater, pants and a dark ski cap pulled over her bright red hair. Though for her part, she wouldn’t need them much longer. She seemed calm, far calmer than Riley or even Tristan, though my ex-partner hid his anxiousness well. I could feel the subtle heat of her body next to mine, tempting me to pull her close, but I stifled those urges for now. The mission took priority. I could feel Tristan watching us sometimes, stealing a glance when he thought I wasn’t looking, his expression caught between confusion and doubt. Like he was trying to puzzle something out, and neither of us were giving him the answers he expected.