Ember replied. “In a few hours actually. Jade and the others are well enough to travel, so we’ll be leaving after sunset and driving through the night. You won’t have to worry about us anymore.”
Martin pondered this, then looked at me. “And you, Sebastian?” he asked, as I’d known he would. “Will you be going with them?”
His voice wasn’t angry or accusing, but my stomach tightened all the same. I could hear the hidden meaning behind his words. You are a soldier of St. George. This is your home, with the people who raised you. You belong here, with your brothers. You belong with us.
I hesitated only a moment, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“There is no way I can convince you to leave with us?” Martin continued, and before I could say anything, he added, “We could really use your help, Sebastian, especially now. Your knowledge and expertise on the enemy is what kept us alive that night. Well, that, and the arrival of your dragons.” One corner of his mouth quirked, very slightly, but just as quickly, he sobered. “I’d like to have you with us, Sebastian. I can’t order you to come, of course, but St. George—what’s left of it, anyway—could use all the help it can get.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” I answered firmly. “But I don’t intend to join the Order again.” I’d chosen my side, and St. George was no longer home. Though a small part of me wished I could go with him, if only to be a voice for the dragons, to continue the call for change, I knew beyond a doubt where my loyalties lay.
“I see.” He sighed again, but nodded. “Well, take care, Sebastian. I don’t know what the Order will do after this, if there is an Order around to do anything. But...” His eyes shifted to Ember. “I do know that things are going to change. For better or worse, I’m not certain yet.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a burner phone, then handed it to me over the surface. “Take this,” he said as I reached for it. “It has one number on it. Use it if you need to contact me for any reason. Somehow, I have the feeling our paths will cross again.”
Before I could answer, there was a knock, and Martin’s gaze rose to the door. “Yes?”
“Sir!” A soldier stepped into the room, pausing to give Ember, Riley and me a wary look, before turning to Martin. “Lieutenant,” he continued, “the guards intercepted a man outside the gate. He won’t say who he is or where he came from. All we could get out of him was that he has a message...” His gaze shifted to Riley and Ember. “For the dragons.”
Well, this day had gotten weird.
A man was sitting quietly at the table in the conference room, flanked by soldiers of St. George. He was lean and bony, wearing a simple shirt and dark pants, and his skin was tanned and leathery. His hands were folded in front of him, his dark gaze staying fixed on the wooden surface until the four of us—myself, St. George, Ember and the Order lieutenant, Martin—approached and stood at the table’s edge, facing him.
“I am Lieutenant Martin,” the officer began in clear, official tones. “Current commander of the Western Chapterhouse of St. George. Who are you? What is it you want here?”
At his voice, the man finally raised his head, his expression calm. But his gaze wasn’t for the lieutenant, but for the red hatchling standing beside St. George.
“Ember Hill,” he said in a soft but perfectly audible voice. His dark gaze slid to me. “Ex-Agent Cobalt. My master sends his greetings.”
Ember tensed, as did St. George. The two guards did, as well, hands straying toward their weapons. The man at the table, however, remained as serene as ever. I stepped forward, feeling Cobalt rise, responding to a potential threat. “And who would that be?” I growled.
“Forgive me, ex-Agent.” The man bowed his head. “But my master would rather not discuss business with the soldiers of St. George within earshot.” His gaze flicked briefly to Martin and the soldier. “This message, and the terms that come with it, are for you and Miss Hill alone. Sebastian may stay, if he likes,” he went on, and I stiffened. That he knew the soldier’s name, as well...who was this human? And who was this mysterious master who knew us all? “But the rest of St. George must leave. My master was quite insistent that this was for your ears alone.”
“I don’t think so,” Martin said. “You’re in Order territory, sitting in a St. George chapterhouse. Anything you want to tell the dragons, you can inform us of, as well.”
“Come now, Lieutenant,” the man went on in a reasonable voice. “Surely you can see I am not a threat. I am no dragon, no soldier. I am not armed. Your soldiers have already determined that I am wearing no wires or transmitters. Two dragons and a former soldier of St. George should have no trouble with a frail old man.” His thin lips twitched. “But feel free to shackle me to the table, if you are that worried.”
“Who are you?” I growled. Frail old man, my ass. He obviously knew far too much to be harmless. “How the hell do you know who we are, or that we’d be here, for that matter?”
“I will tell you,” the stranger said, and refolded his hands to the table. “Once St. George is out of the room.”
I looked at Martin. He stood for a moment, rigid and silent, his jaw set, before he nodded once and jerked his head at the soldiers flanking the man. They gave him worried looks but immediately turned and walked out. Martin watched the stranger a moment more, dark eyes appraising, before he turned to Sebastian.
“We’ll be just outside. Call if you need us.”
“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied.
The officer gave the figure at the table one last glance and walked out of the room. The door closed behind him, and we were alone with the stranger.
The man didn’t move. “All right,” I said, stepping forward. “You got your wish. St. George is gone. So start talking, human. You obviously know who we are, what we are and probably why we’re here. There’s only one possible group I can think of with that kind of information.”
“I am not from Talon,” the man said. “Let us get that suspicion out of the way right now. You have no reason to fear me. I represent a single individual, not an organization. Though Talon is part of the reason I have come. My master has sent me here with a message. He wishes to meet you, ex-Agent Cobalt. You and Miss Hill. There are things he wishes to discuss.”
“Uh-huh. And we’re supposed to drop everything and go meet with this mysterious individual right now, am I correct? Sorry, but I’m going to need a little more than that. Especially since we don’t even know this person’s name, or yours, for that matter.”
“My name is not important,” said the stranger. “I am simply his voice. His name, however, you might have heard before, ex-Agent Cobalt. My master calls himself Ouroboros.”
Ouroboros?
The bottom dropped out of my stomach. I felt Ember and St. George watching me, and suspected I looked as stunned as I felt. “That’s not possible,” I stated. “Ouroboros is...”
“A legend?” the old man answered with the hint of a smile. “A myth?”
“Dead,”
