I faced the men before me, recognizing each of them. They had all been there, in the last, terrible battle. They had all seen the horror of the clones and the terror of the Elder Wyrm. And they had all stood with a hatchling or rogue dragon fighting beside them as an ally. They were ready to begin something new.
“Today is a new day for the Order,” I began. “Today we will take the first steps toward peace with those we once considered enemies. Today, Talon and St. George will finally reach an accord. I know this goes against everything the Order taught us, but everyone here has seen the truth, just as I did. They’re not monsters. Just like humans, they’re individuals with their own fears, ambitions, regrets, everything. Most important, they don’t have to be our enemies. We can learn to work together, but the Order has to change to see that happen. I’m committed to seeing that change, but know that if you stay, we will face opposition. It will be a hard road at first, and if there are other survivors within St. George, some of our own will certainly challenge us.” I paused, and saw some of them nod; they knew, as well as I did, the minds of the Order would not be changed overnight. “But we must stand firm,” I went on. “We cannot let blind hatred drive us any longer. This is just the first step toward peace with dragons—it will take all of us to make it last.”
“Sir.” One of the men stepped forward; I recognized him as a soldier named Alexander, maybe two years older than me. He’d been part of Ward’s group, but had yet to develop the sadistic hatred the Eastern Chapterhouse soldiers were famous for. “I have a question,” he continued as I nodded at him. “Sir, what will happen to the Order if we’re not at war with the dragons? What will be the purpose of St. George, if we are no longer called to fight? Will the Order eventually be disbanded?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not yet. Not for a long while. Perhaps, someday in the future the world will no longer need the Order of St. George. But right now, we are the only human organization who is aware of the existence of dragons. We will provide…not opposition, but a counterbalance to Talon. There will be dragons who share the Elder Wyrm’s view, who might wish to harm the organization or humanity itself. Talon will call on us if they need the Order’s help to deal with problem individuals within the organization. And as we grow and rebuild our numbers, the Order of St. George will stand vigilant, ready to act should Talon attempt a hostile takeover once more.”
He nodded gravely. We might not be at war any longer, but we all knew the threat the organization represented. I didn’t want to think it could happen, but if the worst came to pass and another Elder Wyrm rose to power, the Order of St. George was still humanity’s best defense against Talon and the threat of dragons.
I hoped it would never come to that.
“Are there any more questions?” I asked, and when no one answered, I turned to Tristan, standing rigidly beside me. “Are we ready to go, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir,” Tristan replied. “The car is waiting out front now.”
“Dismissed,” I told the soldiers before me. “Alexander, you’re in charge until we return. Contact me if anything unusual happens.”
“Sir.”
“Let’s go,” I told Tristan, and we left the room, heading outside into the hot Arizona sun.
*
“Damn,” Tristan muttered a few hours later. He craned his neck, gazing up at the skyscraper towering overhead. It loomed against the evening sky, a monolith of glass and steel rising into the twilight. “To think, an office of the Elder Wyrm was right here, and we never realized it.”
“Good thing we didn’t,” I replied as we walked toward the front doors. A security guard opened them for us with a nod, and we ducked into the air-conditioned building. “I can’t imagine going head-to-head with her again and not being completely obliterated.”
“God, that was a fight, wasn’t it?” Tristan agreed, keeping his voice low, as our footsteps echoed across the spacious lobby. “One thing that confuses me, though. How did you become the leader of St. George when, technically, I was the one who killed the freaking Elder Wyrm?”
I shot him a glance and saw that he was grinning. “You want the job?” I asked, heading toward a trio of well-dressed humans who looked like they were expecting us. He snorted.
“Fuck, no. But a plaque on my office door would be nice. Tristan St. Anthony, Slayer of the Legendary Elder Wyrm, has a nice ring to it.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I muttered, and then fell silent as the trio of smiling humans came forward, shook our hands and requested that we follow them to the meeting.
The elevator took us to the very top floor, and when the doors finally opened, a wall of windows showed off open sky with a few dotted stars, and the glittering city streets very, very far below. A pink tinted cloud floated in the sea of navy blue, and for a moment, I felt a sudden, irrational urge to stand at the very edge of the building, as close to the sky as I could get.
“The meeting is about to start, sir,” one of the humans said, gesturing at a large wooden door at the end of the hall. “Please, go on in.”
Tristan and I pushed open the doors, and walked into a roomful of dragons.
Everyone had arrived before us, it seemed, though we had arrived early. Across the table, Riley and Mist sat side by side, with a very bored-looking Wes lounging over his laptop. Jade and another Eastern dragon, a slender man with a white mustache down to his waist, perched at the other end. Both wore elegant robes, and Jade’s hair was pinned up with ivory chopsticks, adding to her unruffled mystique. The older Easter dragon’s eyes were closed, either in meditation or trying very hard to appear serene, given the final dragon in the room. At the head of the table, the Archivist, the ancient Wyrm who guarded Talon’s Vault, stood beside an empty chair, a sheaf of papers in both wrinkled hands. His pale blue eyes met mine as we entered, and he inclined his head.
“Commander Sebastian,” the ancient dragon greeted, his quiet voice making the tiles shiver under my feet. “Lieutenant St. Anthony, welcome. We are glad you could join us.”
“Thank you,” I said, and seated myself at the end of the table, Tristan beside me. The Archivist leaned over and pressed a button on the phone in front of him, speaking into the receiver.
“The Order of St. George has arrived, ma’am.”
My heart beat faster as a door opened on the opposite wall, and Ember came into the room. Gone was the girl in jeans and a T-shirt, a firearm hanging at her waist and her hair standing on end. Now, she wore a dark green suit jacket, a matching skirt, and her hair was brushed back, looking almost manageable. For just a heartbeat, I felt a flicker of apprehension at how similar she looked to Dante. Maybe not her clothes, but her posture and appearance spoke of the same cool, businesslike attitude I’d seen in her twin and many of the other Talon dragons.
But then our gazes met and she gave me a smile, instantly becoming the Ember I’d always known, and I relaxed. Despite the expensive clothes and sudden acquisition of an entire multi-billion-dollar company, she was still the same.
“Everyone.” She took her place at the head of the table and gazed around at the assembled humans and dragons. For a moment, she seemed to gather herself, to collect her thoughts or her composure, to act in the way the new CEO of Talon should. Then she smiled, and it filled the entire room.