Happy Friday everyone! This chapter, an old enemy makes an appearance and a newly built friend makes an entrance.


110. Grudge Match


When Cardin left her in an unmucked stall and forgot to feed her, Mudslide had endured it.

She thundered down the street behind the Council Headquarters, her war cry mixing with Tank's and Barracuda's, with Sky sitting tall in her saddle.

When she finally hit back for once and broke his ribs, she'd run away and hidden in the woods like some kind of monster.

The Council Rider they were chasing must have gotten separated from his dragon somewhere along the way. He tripped over a patch of broken pavement and went sprawling, scrabbling at his back for his rifle. Mudslide roared again and pounced on him, tearing it out of his grasp and worrying it back and forth in her teeth. Tank barked. She tossed it to him, and he smothered it in flames until he could bend the barrel.

When they killed Tornado, she'd been powerless to do anything except sit there and listen.

She snarled at the human as he scrambled away. Look at them now—crumbling underfoot like dry grass the second it came down to a real battle. The second everyone else was allowed to fight back.

They were all useless—except for the hybrids, but Tank was steering them away from those. Mudslide was glad. It wasn't any fun to fight babies who couldn't even help it, and they couldn't win without hurting them.

So they dodged around a flock of hybrids that were smaller than Mudslide's head and went barreling down a side-street of Vale. The battle had already spilled out into most of the surrounding neighborhood, and several empty office buildings had come down. Mostly because of the giant hybrid that kept throwing everyone around.

Mudslide galloped past a coffee shop whose front window had been melted, only to come skidding to a stop when another dragon ran out of an alleyway to meet them. At first she thought he must be one of the hybrids, he was so small—but he wasn't wearing one of the helmets, and he only smelled like earth.

He hesitated when he realized there were three of them. "Um..."

"What are you doing?" snarled a voice that made Mudslide's insides twist. "Go find something to—"

Cardin stumbled out into the main street and froze. The dragonet at his feet whimpered and backed up a step. "Hey!" he barked. "Don't run away, you useless little—"

Mudslide pounced on him.

Dimly, she could hear Sky shouting. Mostly swearing. But the only real thing in that moment was his face, wide-eyed and shining with sweat, as her paws bore down on his chest. She growled.

You're not a giant anymore. I am.

Something bit down on the tip of her tail.

She twisted her head around and snarled, only to find the little hatchling trying to pull her away. Tank and Barracuda hovered uncertainly over him, like they wanted to make him stop but didn't have the heart.

Mudslide gently picked him up by the scruff and disentangled him from her tail. He whined and squirmed in her grip. "No!"

She put him down. "He's a bad human," she told the little one.

"No!"

"If you don't want him anymore, you come find me."

He tried to bite her, and she dodged out of the way. Cardin was getting up again. A flash of white-hot fire erupted in her belly. Someone had given him a new hatchling to leave locked up in a stall. And in the Council's new Beacon there would be no Ruby to show him that riders weren't supposed to hit them, no Jade to tell him that he wasn't bad or wrong for being angry, no Sky to find him when he was alone at night and sit with him until he fell asleep.

She tossed Cardin away in disgust and stalked off down the street, pausing only to look back at the little hatching. Someday, she promised herself. Someday he would realize it was Cardin who was worthless—not him.


Glacier stumbled in mid-step to avoid squishing a human that had just landed at his feet. It groaned and started trying to turn over. He ignored it and trotted on, his head turning this way and that. There were people he had to protect. Whitley and Oscar and Ragnar, Winter and Weiss and their dragons... why did there have to be so many? And where had they all gone?

He stopped and put his front paws up on a nearby building so that he could peek over its roof. Fights with the hybrids were kicking up so much smoke and dust that he could hardly see anything through the haze. Glacier huffed. Just a moment ago Ragnar had been right there, but then a hybrid had started blowing fog everywhere and he'd gotten confused...

"Over there!" Whitley shouted. Glacier had to crane his neck to see where he was pointing, but when he did he found Steele with a crowd of other dragons, grappling a hybrid almost as big as Ragnar. Whatever it was doing was melting the street they were fighting on, and none of them were looking up—where another dragon was circling, waiting for an opening.

Glacier launched himself from his roof and swept towards them with a mighty roar. He crashed claws-first into the dragon just as he stooped into a dive. They arced through the air—he caught a glimpse of Winter looking up at them, her mouth slightly open—and hit the ground about a hundred feet away. He remembered Whitley just in time and dug his claws into the earth to keep from rolling onto his back and flattening him.

The other dragon opened his mouth and loosed a jet of flame. Glacier let out a teakettle shriek and scuttled backwards, putting a cloud of mist between them that blocked the attack. Then he tried circling the enemy—that was something dragons did in a fight, wasn't it?

"Back!" Whitley cried out. "Get out of range, it's going to—!"

Glacier darted to the side, dodging another blast of fire, and sprinted away down another sidestreet. Every turn he made, the enemy dragon pursued him, until he finally skidded to a stop down a narrow street. This time when the other dragon made to attack, he went in close and took a swipe at his face. His claws caught on the metal helmet.

That was strange. Wasn't it supposed to be the hybrids who wore those?

Then he was attacking again, and Glacier didn't have time to wonder about it. He jumped on the other dragon, then yelped and hopped away again the second he touched his heated scales.

"Glacier! Behind you!"

He twisted to look over his shoulder and flattened himself against the ground in sudden fear. A monstrous head had popped up over the row of buildings behind him. Then, very slowly, it turned until six silver eyes were fixed on him.

Glacier's legs buckled. He yelped and landed on his belly with enough force to make the enemy fire dragon stumble. It was like there was something heavy pressing down on his back, pinning him to the ground while the enemy bounded towards him. With a tremendous effort, he lifted his head a few inches off the ground and blew out a cloud of the killing mist. Fire met ice, steam erupted, and his head sank back to the ground. The fire finally cut through the mist, and flames licked across his shoulders.

Then there was a thump, and a familiar low growl.

"Glacier?" Ragnar nudged his side. "Are you alright?"

He whined and squirmed, struggling to get his legs under him. It still felt as if several other dragons were lying on top of him—though the weight was slowly lifting. He looked up in alarm, but Rangar was between him and the enemy dragon now, slapping its head aside whenever it tried to aim a blast of fire.

Glacier hauled himself upright. "Go," he said. "Find little ones." Winter was just back... back... um...

His tail drooped. He didn't remember half the turns he'd taken when he ran here, and he couldn't hear Steele at all.

"We'll look for them," Ragnar promised. "Just stay close to me, please."


"Where the hell did they go?!" Winter snarled.

Steele sprinted down another side street, but it was no use. She'd only caught a glimpse of Glacier flying overhead before he and the pit dragon had both vanished. Bad enough that she hadn't been able to keep track of Weiss without leaving Whitley behind, but now she'd lost him, too.

Damn it.

When she turned around, she realized she had no idea where Qrow had gone, either.

It was some combination of the noise and chaos of the battle, the hazy smog of mixed ash and dust, and the fact that there were hybrids ready to attack around every turn. One second she'd known exactly where both Weiss and Whitley were. The next, their dragons were running in opposite directions, she'd forced herself to choose and trust Weiss and her teammates to protect themselves... and then Glacier was nowhere to be found.

But the fact that he'd jumped over her and she still didn't know where he was—that was too much. She urged Steele towards the center of the mess, determined to at least position herself so that she could catch another glimpse of Glacier or Specter.

Winter was only halfway there when Steele trotted past a collapsed building. It was one of many—the massive hybrid in the courtyard had been tossing around trees, cars, and dragons for almost fifteen minutes now, and obviously wasn't concerned with collateral damage.

She was ready to move past it, maybe see what she could do to help with the big hybrid since as far as she knew no one had gotten close enough to damage it yet. But Steele skidded to a stop, his ears pricked up.

A piece of brick skittered down from the top of the rubble. And, now that she was paying attention, Winter could hear the pile shifting, as if there was something struggling underneath it.

"Go!" she snapped, her heart in her throat.

Winter dearly hoped this would be the last time she went into battle with her siblings—she wasn't sure her blood pressure could take much more of this.


There was no light. No sound, except for distant, muffled roars and the ringing in her ears. Freya tried to get up. A sudden weight pressed down against her ribs, and she froze.

Okay. No more moving.

She lay on her side, her wings pinned painfully against her back, her forelegs arched to protect the pocket of air around her belly. Inside, she felt Ren stir. Freya couldn't look to see if he was okay, not without maybe collapsing more of the rubble on him. She didn't even dare move her head. Her breathing was already shifting the weight on top of her, sending little stones tumbling down her sides.

More stones fell away, no matter how hard Freya tried to stay still. But these weren't falling down where Ren was, they were being dragged off to the side. The first hints of sunlight shone through, and she managed to twist her head around to see Steele, carefully digging her out of the rubble.

As soon as she could move again, she rolled over to peer at Ren. He was unsteady on his feet, and there was a nasty cut on his forehead, but when she nuzzled his side he patted her nose and said, "Thank you."

Belatedly, Freya remembered to thank Steele, too. He flicked his tail and said, "Of course."

"We need to go," Winter told them, her eyes still fixed on the towering silhouette of the giant. "Are you well enough to come with us?"

"Yes," Ren said, and climbed onto Freya's back. She steadied him with her nose and waited for him to strap himself into Nora's saddle. "We have to find them."

She took off at a trot and launched herself into the air, coming dangerously close to the giant as she scanned the area. Then she heard Guang's jubilant cry and swept sideways. Nora was on his back, with his saddle nowhere to be seen. Freya roared indignantly, and Ren tensed in the saddle. They were running, not flying, but they were still much too close to the giant for comfort.

Freya hopped down to join them and nuzzled at her rider, licking her face and checking her over for injuries. She seemed fine—Guang was another story. He was limping, and there were deep scratches along his side that were still bleeding. When she moved to clean them he yelped and danced backwards.

"I'm okay!" he insisted. "Twiggy and Harpy are still up there—"

"You're hurt, and Nora doesn't have a saddle. I think we have to go somewhere else." Freya's ears flattened at the thought. The smaller hybrids were probably less dangerous than the giant, right?

...Maybe they could just look for Council riders.

"But we have to help," Guang insisted. "Look! There's hardly anyone fighting her anymore!"

Freya looked up and winced. She could see Twiggy and Harpy, the SSSN dragons, and now Steele... but that was it. A few dragons were limping away from the area after being tossed around one time too many. Some weren't moving at all. "Guang..."

Before she could try to argue with him, she heard another roar. There was a strange, buzzing undertone to it, like static on a speaker. Freya perked up and poked her head over the roof of a building to watch. Her brother crowded next to her.

A streak of silver darted out from behind the Council headquarters. Penny's mouth glowed a bright, electric green as she hovered over the roof. Her wings didn't move—they weren't really wings at all, but massive panels covered in gravity-Dust thrusters.

The giant dove at her. Just as she approached, the effect Penny had been charging went off. A laser shot from her jaws and cut through thin air as the giant threw herself to one side. It kept going, smashing the windows of an office building across the street before she closed her mouth and the laser stopped.

"Okay," Guang said, as he hopped back down to the road. "I guess that's better. And I don't want Nora to fall off again."


"Careful, Penny," James told her. "We don't want to do any permanent harm."

"Her hide appears to be both thick and heat-resistant," Penny said, as the elemental slammed into her side with the force of a runaway airship. "Even a direct hit would do very little damage."

Penny grappled the elemental back. They weren't anywhere near the same size, but she was bigger than most adult dragons and didn't have to worry about getting tired. The claws that raked across her belly didn't do much more than scratch her chassis.

She was surprised to find herself enjoying the challenge—for the first time she felt like she was really a part of the fight, participating instead of advising and handling armor. It was Penny who decided when to attack, when to go on the defensive, when to stretch out her neck and roar. Her neck. Her body, for the first time she could remember.

James grimaced and leaned closer to the viewscreen. "Any idea what she's been programmed to do?"

"Her parameters seem to be to kill or incapacitate as many enemy dragons and riders as possible. If there are other specifications, we won't know until they come up."

Gravity flipped upside-down. Penny's thrusters compensated automatically, shifting her so that she was hovering in roughly the same place. The elemental paused while the program directing her thought. It hadn't been designed to handle a dragon like Penny, and was most likely based on data Doctor Watts had gathered from the pit dragons. Could it act creatively to solve the problem?

The elemental bit her foreleg. Under the pressure of her jaws the limb started to buckle and bend—but there was no attempt to find weaknesses or build strategies that wouldn't work on a flesh-and-blood dragon. Just using whatever attacks the pit dragons had found useful in the past.

Probably not alive, then. Penny wasn't sure if she was relieved, or disappointed.

"Can you talk to the dragons for me, Penny? James asked.

"Of course."

Her rider grinned. "In that case, I think it's about time we started focusing on the real enemy here." He pulled up the set of blueprints her father had drawn up.

Penny couldn't smirk like he could, but her eyes flashed a brighter green.

"Sensational!"