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

Ember glanced from the old man to me. “I take it this... Ouroboros is important?” she asked. “Who is he, anyway?”

I took a deep breath. “Ouroboros,” I began, hearing the awe in my own voice, “is a Wyrm. An old, old Wyrm. Right behind our infamous leader of Talon, he’s the oldest dragon in the known world.”

Ember’s brows arched. “Oh,” she said.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “So, he’s kind of a big deal. Even though he’s not supposed to exist. A long time ago—and I’m talking over three hundred years, mind—Ouroboros and the Elder Wyrm had a disagreement. Everyone has forgotten what it was about, but they think it had something to do with Talon, and the direction the Elder Wyrm was taking it. The stories say the fight was everything from an argument to a full-blown, Godzilla versus Mothra–style throw down, but in the end, Ouroboros left Talon and went rogue. The very first dragon to do so. He just...disappeared. The official consensus in Talon was that he’d died, but there is a legend, among rogues especially, that claims that somehow Ouroboros survived and is still out there. Hiding from Talon, managing to stay off their radar all this time.” Riley shook his head. “Of course, it was always just a myth. No one has seen or heard anything from Ouroboros since the day he fled Talon.”

St. George looked at the man sitting at the table. “Not so much of a myth, it appears.”

“No.” I narrowed my gaze at the stranger, suspicion rising up like dark flame. “So if what you say is true,” I said, “and Ouroboros is alive, where the hell has he been all this time? Why hasn’t he done anything? Does he not care that we’ve all been dying, thanks to Talon and St. George? He’s probably the only one who can go head-to-head with the Elder Wyrm and have a sliver of a chance. Why hasn’t he ever made himself known, contacted the rogues at the very least? Why now?”

“I do not presume to know the mind of Ouroboros,” the human stated. “I have come to deliver his message, nothing more. I do know that contacting anyone by modern means, such as phones, computers, and the like, has never been his preference. Phones can be traced. Computers can be hacked. Ouroboros is a bit of a...traditionalist, if you would. If you wish to know the answers to your questions, you will have to go to him and ask him yourself.”

I growled in frustration. “Fine. Where is he?”

The man blinked. “Forgive me, ex-Agent,” he said, still in that supremely calm voice. “I’m afraid I cannot tell you that.” He raised a hand as I stepped forward. “You, of all people, should know the lengths to which a rogue will go to keep their location a secret.”

“Then how are we supposed to find him?” Ember wanted to know.

“If you agree to meet my master, I will take you to where you must go. I warn you, however. It is a lengthy journey. Ouroboros is not here, in the United States. Hiding himself so well meant cutting himself off from nearly all of civilization. The trip to meet him will take some time.”

“Time we really don’t have,” I snapped. “There’s a war happening now, and Talon is on the move. I can’t leave the hatchlings to go traipsing halfway around the world for a chat.”

“Even if that chat is with Ouroboros?” the stranger asked mildly. “The First Rogue? One of only four great Wyrms in the entire world? Who knew the Elder Wyrm centuries ago, who is the second most powerful dragon your kind has ever known? I would think that you, ex-Agent Cobalt, with your network of dragons trying to hide from Talon, would be especially eager to see why Ouroboros has called for you.”

“Hey, don’t get me wrong.” I held up a hand. “I would love to meet Ouroboros and pick his brain a little. Particularly on how he’s stayed off Talon’s radar for the past three hundred years.” I raked a palm over my scalp. “But this is a really bad time. I can’t leave the hatchlings now. Talon is still after us, and there’s probably not much time until they launch their second phase of attack, whatever it may be. I have to get my underground as far away as I can before that happens.”

Ember looked at me, then back to the man at the table. “Do we have to give you an answer now?” she asked.

“No, Miss Hill.” The man shook his head. “Please take your time. Talk among yourselves. Decide what you want to do. But...remember that Ouroboros is not a patient Wyrm, nor one that forgives or forgets.” His voice remained the same, serene and matter-of-fact. It was not a threat, merely a statement, but I felt the warning reverberate through me all the same. “He has no tolerance for those who waste his time. If you refuse this offer now, it will not be made again in your lifetimes. So please choose carefully.”

* * *

“Bloody freaking hell,” Wes remarked. “Ouroboros? The First Rogue? That’s bloody impossible. I thought he was... I mean, isn’t he supposed to be...”

“Nonexistent.” This from Mist, leaning against the far wall. Leaving the stranger under the dubious watch of a couple soldiers, Ember, St. George and I had retreated to our temporary quarters on the other side of the base. Now, the three of us were gathered in Wes’s room, along with two other dragons who had joined us recently: Mist, a former Basilisk agent whose motives for being here were still shady as hell, and Jade, an Adult Eastern dragon with a fondness for tea and being aloof.

“Ouroboros is a myth,” Mist said. “An urban legend the rogues keep alive to give them hope.” Her long silver hair glowed dully in the shadowy corner she’d claimed as hers. Even though there were still a few hours of daylight left, the curtains were drawn and the lights were turned off. The only luminance came from the screen of Wes’s laptop on the desk, because my human hacker friend seemed as allergic to sunlight as a vampire.

“He isn’t real,” the girl insisted. “Everyone in Talon knows Ouroboros died long ago. After all this time, we would have seen or heard something.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the human sitting in St. George’s conference room,” I said, jerking my thumb back at the closed door. “Because he’s either eaten too many magic mushrooms, or he says that the First Rogue is not only real, he wants to meet with us.”

Jade, standing quietly beside a wardrobe, regarded me with interest. “If Ouroboros indeed lives and has called for you, it would be wise to go. One does not receive a summons from an ancient Wyrm often, if ever.”

“Yeah, but...” I scrubbed both hands through my hair, frustration warring with curiosity. Of course I wanted to go. This was Ouroboros, the First Rogue. The legend who had hidden his existence from Talon so well that everyone, inside the organization and out, had thought he was dead. For three hundred years. I would kill to learn his secrets.

But if I left, what would happen to my underground if Talon came for us again? My network was brave; they had fought Talon’s clone army and had turned the tide for St. George. Without our intervention, the Order would have been slaughtered.

The cost was high, far too high. Some of them hadn’t made it. Five hatchlings were dead, buried in the desert sand with the soldiers they had fought beside. I knew them all by name; I remembered the day I’d taken each of them away from Talon, with the promise of a better life, one that was free.

“You’re worried about the others,” Ember said quietly.

“Of course I am,” I answered. “I can’t leave them alone now. It’s too dangerous. Talon is actively trying to kill us, and they have a huge clone army to do it. I don’t dare send them back to the safe houses—the nests have all been compromised. I have one place left for us to go, and I can only hope Talon hasn’t found it.”

“I take it we’re going back to the farm,” Wes stated, and I nodded. He sighed. “Well, hell, Riley, I can take them there. It’s not rocket science to drive a bloody van.”

As I stared at him in shock, Jade broke in, as well. “And if you are worried about their safety,” she said, “put your mind at ease. I will remain with them until you return. Talon will not threaten any of the hatchlings while they are under my watch.”

“I... Are you two feeling all right?” I wondered, aghast. What the hell was going on here? Wes hated people, and teenagers especially. And Jade barely knew us. “What’s gotten into you two?” I asked, frowning. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were doing everything to get me to leave except physically pushing me out the door.”

“Riley.” Wes gave me one of his patented I’m surrounded by idiots looks. “Think about it. Ouroboros is the second-oldest dragon in the world, and he’s at odds with the bloody Elder Wyrm. What would happen if we convinced him to fight for us?” The hacker shook his head at me. “If you can’t see the potential there, mate, then I really have no hope for you at all.”

“Yes,” Jade added with a somber nod. “Know thyself, know thine enemies. A thousand battles, a thousand victories.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That we are at war.” The Eastern dragon gave me a look that was nearly as impressively disdainful as Wes’s. “And knowing our enemy will be the key to overcoming them. Knowledge is the greatest weapon we have, and who better to obtain this knowledge from than one who has lived longer than nearly everyone else on the planet?”

“And I know you, Riley,” Ember broke in. “You want to meet with Ouroboros. If you miss this chance, you’re going to be kicking yourself for the rest of your life.”

“Agreed,” Mist added. “If I was summoned by a legend, I would make that a top priority, but that’s just me.”

I sighed. “I wonder if you people realize that I’m the leader of this underground,” I remarked. “Just throwing that out there, in case you’ve forgotten.” As expected, no one seemed impressed, and I shook my head in defeat. “All right, I suppose we’re going to see what the First Rogue wants with us. Wes, Jade, if you’re sure you’ve got the hatchlings...”

“Oh, will you just go already,” Wes said. “You sound like a bloody nursemaid.”

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

The present

The humans surrounded us, silent as wraiths in the darkness of the jungle. There were close to a dozen of them, dark skinned and mostly naked, wearing loincloths and necklaces of shell and bone. Most carried crude wooden spears, which they’d pointed at us in a bristling ring of spikes. A few outside the circle held bows and arrows. None of them spoke, or made any sound at all. They simply watched us with unreadable black eyes.

“Okay,” Riley murmured, gazing around. “That’s a little worrisome. Do you think this is the welcome party?” His voice was amused but held a hint of warning. Garret had drawn his weapon and was keeping the muzzle pointed at the ground, ready to respond with lethal force if he had to.

“What do you think they want?” I asked, keeping my gaze on those sharp points hovering very close to my face. Garret had moved behind me, and I could feel the tension lining his muscles, his hard gaze as it swept the crowd. Riley shrugged.

“No clue, but I’m not too keen on getting skewered to find out.” His gaze slid to me, and a hard smile pulled at his mouth. “You have a change of clothes, right?”

“You want us to Shift? In front of all these humans?”

“Who are they going to tell? The news monkeys?” He rolled his eyes before his attention focused on the crowd again. “I figure this way we won’t even have to fight anyone. They’ll just drop their spears and run.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then I’d rather be in dragon form if they try to shove a spear up my ass.”

The crowd in front of us suddenly parted, and an old man stepped through, stopping just a few feet away. He was thin, nearly skeletal, with twig-like arms and only a few strands of wispy white hair stuck to his head. He regarded the three of us with eyes that were still sharp and clear, then raised a clawed hand to point at me.