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

“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 (#u9917cbca-01fa-5b5e-a60d-27ff0027e5a1)

“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.

Abruptly, Tristan’s phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and held it to his ear, then muttered a short “Roger that” a moment later. Lowering his arm, he glanced at me. “Ryan just gave the heads-up. Train’s on its way now. We’re about ten minutes from go time.”

Ember took a deep breath and looked at Riley. “Guess that’s our cue.”

Riley gave a curt nod, and the two dragons moved into the shadows, ducking behind the copse of trees at our backs and vanishing from sight. Tristan let out a furtive breath and glanced at my side of the Jeep.

“This is crazy. You realize that, right?”

Apparently, his enthusiasm for the heist had dulled when he’d realized he had to be part of it. “Yeah. I know.”

“We’re robbing a train—a freaking train—on dragonback. Two soldiers of St. George, flying in on dragons, to pull off a train heist in the middle of nowhere. I mean, stop for a second and really think about how ludicrous that sounds.”

I gave a half smile. “My whole year has sort of been like that.” Pushing myself off the car door, I walked forward a few steps and gazed down the tracks, looking for the telltale glimmer of the train. Briefly, I thought of all the things that had happened to me since I’d fled the Order in the company of dragons. Meeting the rogues. Being kidnapped by an ancient Eastern dragon. Discovering Talon’s clone army. Going to Brazil to meet the most powerful rogue in the world and the second-oldest dragon in existence. Any one of those things might give a normal soldier of St. George a nervous breakdown. All because I’d committed the strangest crime of all: falling in love with the enemy. “Actually, this is pretty far down the weirdness scale for me,” I told Tristan, who arched his brows. “I’m so desensitized to it now I don’t think I can be surprised anymore.”

Tristan shook his head. “Damn, Sebastian,” he muttered. “I don’t even want to know what you’ve been doing the past few months. Living with the lizards.” He snorted. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“They’re not that different from us,” I told him. For a moment, a small, tired part of me wondered if I was wasting my breath, but I stomped on that voice. Convincing the Order was not going to be done overnight. We had made an amazing amount of progress already; I couldn’t expect Tristan to start trusting dragons after twenty-two years of trying to eliminate their entire race. “It’s not like I was living with robots or wild dogs,” I went on.