Happy Friday, folks! And, holy shit! We're in the triple digits now. That's cool... and terrifying, but mostly cool!

100. Scorched Earth

Thank the brothers for Pietro.

"You're sure?" James asked, leaning forward over his desk. "You can get them off?"

Pietro cleared his throat. "Well, anyone can get them off—given enough time, and several other dragons to pin the poor things down. I wouldn't call it simple by any stretch. Unless we're willing to risk attacking the devices directly with fire or lightning or some such, which I'd recommend against outside of an emergency."

"And the mech?"

He wobbled his hand back and forth. "I haven't had much time to work on it myself, but the armor is already assembled and I've had a few students cobbling the flight system together. It's not done yet, but it should be finished within the next few days."

James slumped back in his chair. "That's good. Very good, thank you."

There was a knock at the door. Winter didn't bother waiting for him to say anything before she walked in. James tensed—she wouldn't do that if she had good news for him. And, given that he'd sent her with a squad to check Cinder's camp... "She's gone?"

"The place was empty," Winter confirmed. "Burned to the ground, to be more precise. We couldn't even figure out how many people were living there up until recently. We're asking the students from Haven and Shade about where she might have gone, but I doubt that will lead us anywhere."

He rubbed his temples. "Any good news?"

"Actually, yes. We got a message from a group of older riders—most of them are retired friends of Taiyang's. There are too many of them to risk flying into Atlas with the Council around, but they're willing to assist however they can."

James chewed on that for a moment. "Every dragon helps, but what we really need is a location."

"I could try to trace the signals on those devices," Pietro offered, "though I doubt it would do us much good. Arthur is... well... fantastically paranoid at the best of times."

"Try," James said, and rolled his shoulders in a futile attempt to banish the tension there. He hated being reactive—and as it was, they were stuck waiting for Cinder to make the first move. Not to mention that there was always the chance the Council might attack, even though he suspected they would opt to leave Atlas Dragonry alone until she had been dealt with.

He almost wished they could just get on with it. He squashed the thought as soon as it formed... and much too late to escape the irony when, ten minutes later, Neon stumbled into his office without knocking.

"Uh, sir!" She saluted—something he'd already told her twice she didn't need to do—and quailed a little under Winter's withering look. "There's something on the news."

Something turned out to be a rash of sightings of unidentified riders. James flipped restlessly from channel to channel—for several minutes the news cycled between the same three videos, all from Vale, that had prompted the initial reports. But soon a deluge of other footage poured in, as people who now knew what to look for started filming on their scrolls. Atlas, Vacuo, Mistral... they were everywhere.

The general consensus seemed to be that these were riders defecting to what the Council had started calling 'Ironwood's Coup,' which some news crews took to be a sign that they should panic. Others put a more positive spin on it, reassuring themselves and their audience that it was incredibly unlikely that the sightings had anything to do with Cinder.

It was a reasonable assumption—except that James happened to be in a unique position to know that these weren't his riders. He kept flipping, hoping to find some pattern in the random appearances, until Winter's voice cut through his daze like a whip.

"Stop!"

He stopped. A local news team was reporting on a video taken in southern Mistral, where a gigantic dark shape stood out against blue sky. James frowned. It looked... odd, for some reason he couldn't quite place.

"Its missing a foreleg." Winter pointed. "Just like one of the pit dragons."

James felt something cold settle into the pit of his stomach. Surely, he thought, surely she wouldn't risk putting that in their hands.

But there was another familiar silhouette, of a wind dragon short most of its tail. In video after video, Winter was able to identify pit dragons that fit the same general description—too many to be coincidence.

He shot to his feet. "Winter, get the Squads in the air. Pietro, the professors—Glynda and Peter—Qrow—everyone you can find. Neon, the students."

"But—they're all over the place," Neon protested. "Where are we going?"

James grimaced. "She's split her forces, so we'll have to do the same."

It was tactical suicide. She only had, what, two dragons? And most of them were barely out of the shell. "What the hell are you playing at?" he grumbled under his breath.

The news feeds did not answer.

Neo, Ilia, and Ruby.

Not the three people Mercury would've picked to be stuck with almost constantly... but it could have been worse. And, if he was being honest, he wasn't sure which three people he would have picked. Maybe he could have gone for Tyrian, Watts, Cinder, and a good-sized bridge to push them off of.

It wasn't like Neo or Ilia were that bad. They mostly didn't talk to him, Neo because she didn't talk to anyone, and Ilia because she didn't like him and they had nothing to say to one another. He was fine with that. Ruby, though? Ruby was starting to become a problem.

"It's okay, girl," she promised, petting Storm's head to try and soothe her. And get her to let go of the sleeve she'd seized in her mouth. "I promise, I'll be right back!"

Almost everyone had taken off already. But Ruby didn't want to stay behind, and Jade was her best option for flying with them, so she couldn't leave without her. And Rudder and the others wouldn't leave without her, which left Mercury standing awkwardly to one side while he watched the chaos.

He normally liked chaos, but this wasn't the fun kind of chaos, like watching dragons demolish Haven. It just left him vaguely uncomfortable even though it had nothing to do with him. And feeling things he really didn't want to feel, like sympathy. Look where that shit had gotten him with Emerald.

"Miss Rose!"

Ruby jumped and turned around. Goodwitch waved at them from across the field, where she stood next to one of the smaller dragon carriers.

"Get in," she said, when they approached. "I'll fly."

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou—" Ruby burst out, and collided with the professor at full speed.

She rocked back with the impact, then sighed and gestured towards the hold. "Quickly, if you would." Storm bounded on board, followed soon after by Jade. But when Rudder tried to board, Goodwitch stepped in his way. "Best if the rest of you fly alongside. There's a reason the others aren't on carriers. They have narrow exits, which is good for defending them against the Grimm... and less so for trying to get out in the middle of a fight."

Mercury nodded and hoisted himself into Rudder's saddle. The rest of the group was already in the air, split into three smaller flocks. Goodwitch steered the carrier into the group with Port at its head. From what Ironwood had told them on the ground, they'd be making for Mistral while other groups headed to Vacuo and Vale. Some, including Winter and several of the flight squads, would stay behind.

He took a deep breath and kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. There'd be pit dragons and Cinder's riders waiting for them in Mistral. His throat went tight. He made a futile attempt to ignore it, to shove whatever the hell kept bubbling up in his stomach down where it belonged and keep a cool head. It wasn't working.

Fuck it. He'd liked Emerald. She'd been annoying, and naive, and pathetically attached to Cinder... but he'd liked her. It had been a while since he'd been genuinely angry with someone. Just as long since he'd killed anyone for personal reasons.

It felt like time for a change.

In the scramble to get everyone mounted and in the air, Pyrrha didn't even consider how she herself was going to travel. She was too busy running the news from the spot behind the barns where Harpy had been nesting, to the forest where Glacier and Ragnar liked to walk. And from there she had to keep going, to shout warnings to the Haven students staying in the eastern dormitory, and on and on, until she finally reached the main courtyard where they were taking off and stopped. She turned in a slow circle, hoping to see some sign of where she was supposed to go.

She didn't have to wait long before she spotted Tai waving to her from on Quake's back. With a rush of relief she jogged towards them—and skidded to a halt when Harpy jumped in front of her.

"Hello," she said, and gave her a scratch under the chin. "It's good to see you too." Pyrrha moved to go around her. The hybrid's tail flicked out, lazily blocking her path.

Her heart sank. "If you want me to go with you, I have to fly somehow," she explained. "We've already flown with Quake, remember? I'll be right there with you..." Harpy made no move to get out of her way. There was a strange expression on her muzzle which almost resembled a smirk.

"Listen, we don't have much time—" The hybrid extended her neck and gently grabbed the back of her riding jacket in her teeth. "Um?" she said helplessly, as her feet left the ground. Then Harpy dropped her directly on her back.

"Harpy," she said, "That's a lovely thought, but I don't know if you're big enough to—"

Harpy started to run. Her wings flared up on either side, and her back legs bunched beneath her.

"You don't have a saddle! There are straps on them that keep a rider from—Harpy!"

The words were lost in the wind as Harpy jumped. She floundered for a moment, flapping hard as she adjusted to the weight. But she stayed up, and was soon gliding in easy circles, dipping her wings so that she made tight hair-pin turns.

Pyrrha, who had flung both arms around her neck and was trying not to squeeze it too tightly, chanced a peek over Harpy's shoulder. Far below, the ground rushed past in time with the howling wind. It snatched at her hair and the riding leathers she was very glad she'd thought to put on that morning. Already her bare arms were scratched and red from where they'd been rubbed raw. Her legs dangled freely, without so much as a fraying rope to keep her attached to the dragon.

It was exhilarating.

She relished the feeling, even as she listed dangerously to one side and had to grab the spines on Harpy's neck. How long had it been since she'd flown like this, without another rider sitting in front of her?

But she didn't want to think about that. Instead she leaned into the wind and let out a whoop—which Harpy took as a signal to speed up. She took a full lap around the rest of the gathering forces as they split into three.

Twiggy soared up to meet them, with Ao Guang and Freya on either side. Harpy roared a greeting and dove at her, snapping playfully at her wings before veering off. Reluctantly, Pyrrha patted her back and shouted, "Better to save our energy. We have a long day ahead."

Harpy's head turned just enough that one pale yellow eye could fix on hers. Pyrrha read the challenge in it, and smiled.

"This is it, my dear." Her rider's scarred hands smoothed along the length of her neck. "This is our chance."

Ozone sat up straighter. It was hard—the ropes were tight around her shoulders, and the weight on her chest threatened to pull her off-balance. Wind howled around them as Diver's great wings rose and fell. She could feel his ribs through his back. She hoped he didn't die—he had no rider to bring him back again.

Mistral rose from the horizon, a glittering mountaintop casting its shadow across the sea. Its massive wall curved across the space between water and rock, while a thick metal grate blocked off any approach from the water. Ozone rose up onto her haunches, waiting. Waiting...

"Go!" Tyrian shouted, and her wings snapped open. The wind tore her from Diver's back and set her spiraling up into the sky. She flapped hard, already panting with the effort of supporting the steel canister strapped to her chest.

Diver angled himself towards the towering walls. Ozone flew perpendicular to him, over rugged foothills and across a slow-moving river. And there, on its banks, were her targets.

One massive snout rose into the air, cracking open to reveal rows and rows of jagged teeth. Red eyes glowered at her as the Grimm tilted its head to get a better look. Its tail flicked back and forth, sending up gouts of water as it struck the river.

Ozone wasn't afraid to die again, but instinct still made her balk at the sight. These Grimm might be called River Dragons, but they had no wings. Harmless to her from here... and longer, from nose to tail, than Dusk. Webbed feet sank deep into the mud as they meandered along the riverbank. Bony ridges and plates of armor ran down their flat bodies, with their flesh visible only here and there, at their joints and inside their cavernous mouths. Even the smallest of them could swallow her in one bite. Worst of all was the cold malice in the way they looked at her, and their cold, pitiless eyes.

She hovered directly over the biggest of all of them, steeling herself. Then she hooked a claw into the rope across her chest and snapped it. The canister dropped with a faint whistling sound, directly onto the Grimm's armored back... and exploded.

Chips of bone scattered from the blast. One even embedded itself in the elbow of one of the smaller Grimm, making it hiss in displeasure. The monster she'd struck hardly even flinched. It only stared at her with those empty eyes and let out a deep, shuddering growl.

Ozone faltered in midair, then shook herself and darted away. When she risked a glance behind her, the Grimm was following—and there were dozens of others behind it. They looked almost silly when they walked on their stubby legs, but then the leader slipped into the shallows of the river and struck out towards her. There was a horrible kind of predatory grace to the way it wound through the water, its powerful tail undulating behind it and leaving only tiny ripples on the surface.

It was gaining on her.

Ozone fought down a surge of panic. They still couldn't reach her... but she had an awful feeling they knew that, and didn't care. They'd just follow her until she was too exhausted to fly anymore. Luckily, that was part of the plan.

A sharp crack—even miles away, it was loud enough to make her heart skip a beat. Plumes of smoke rose from the city's walls, mostly obscuring the little speck that was Diver wheeling overhead. More dots rose to meet him, but it didn't matter.

Ozone angled herself towards the largest breach she could see, with the army of Grimm still swimming silently in her wake.

Another explosion sounded in the distance. Leo yelped and pressed a hand over his chest, trying to calm his hammering heart. His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of his desk. What was he supposed to do, when all of his students were—

Thump.

He yelped and dove under his desk. Had that been another bomb? But there was no explosion—only a quiet scraping sound from somewhere above him. The roof. Leo's head spun as he took in great gulps of air, his trembling knees knocking against the legs of the desk.

There was a crash. Cool air flooded the room as glass tinkled to the floor, and a dragon's tail slithered through the broken window. A dark shape moved outside, long limbs reaching in...

Leo clamped a hand over his own mouth and cowered there, hoping against hope that the intruder wouldn't see him. He heard static popping, and a harsh giggle. "Hello, Headmaster."

His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He knew that voice from somewhere... but he couldn't place it. Not until the figure crossed the room and crouched down so that they were almost nose to nose.

"Tyrian," he whispered.

"Look," the man cooed. A dragon's head poked under his arm to study Leo—not the one that had stuck its tail through the window. Too small, and... oh. Oh, dear. Cinder had given him another hybrid.

"What's his name?" Leo asked. He tried to keep his voice steady, and failed miserably.

"What's his name," Tyrian repeated, high and mocking. "This is my Ozone."

Oh. Dear.

Leo swallowed convulsively. "I... I see. I'm glad to see she's... alright. And despite everything that happened, I assure you that none of the blame falls on you. I'm... sorry, that we failed you."

Tyrian giggled again. "Ooh, isn't he a funny old man? He thinks I can't tell the difference."

Feeling even more lost, Leo mustered a queasy smile. "Oh. Well, that's good. A little... odd, to be sure, giving her the same name, but—"

Tyrian's voice turned sing-song. "You're not your dragon, Leo."

"What do you m-mean?"

He smiled with all of his teeth. "Savannah fought the Council. You fought Savannah."

"Tyrian—!" A hand shot out and caught him around the throat. He kicked out instinctively, but hit nothing but air. The dragon crawled onto his chest, electricity stinging him wherever her claws touched him. Leo couldn't even scream—only a pained croak escaped.

Tyrian leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "Your courage died with her."

Leo's struggles were already weakening. He forced out one last, garbled sound. "Please... I can... help you..."

Air rushed back into his lungs. He collapsed against the legs of his desk, his hand to his bruised throat. The dragon bared her teeth at him. "Go on," Tyrian crooned. "How can you help us?"

"Walls," Leo croaked. "I know... weak points. The harbor..."

Tyrian hummed thoughtfully. Then his smile was back, and his tail curled almost tenderly around Leo's leg. "Why not."

Leo yelped as he was yanked to his feet. A shove from Tyrian sent him stumbling towards the window, where another dragon waited. An elemental, all skin and bones, its hide pitted with scars. He wanted to be sick when he spotted the metal glinting at its forehead.

Tyrian settled in behind him, his stinger resting almost casually against Leo's calf. "Lead the way," he said. Leo raised a shaking hand, and pointed.

The hybrid paced them as they flew. It was delusional to think she could be the same one—the true Ozone had come from a similar Dust mixture, perhaps, but she'd been much bulkier than this one. Her scales had been sea green and gold where this one's were deep blue and copper. And her eyes were all wrong, blue instead of yellow and soft where they should have been hawkish.

Something still compelled him to whisper to her, quietly so that Tyrian wouldn't hear him over the wind. "I'm so sorry."