Chapter 2 - The Iron Harpoon
Sylva reacted with the speed of striking lightning. With a deafening roar that shook the sea spray from the bluffs, she snapped her feathered wings forward, forming an impenetrable barrier of horn, scale, and muscle. The heavy harpoon struck her wing joint with a sickening metallic crunch. The barbed tip failed to pierce her heart, but the sheer kinetic force hurled the great beast backward into the stone wall of the roost. A plume of white feathers fluttered into the void, soaked in brilliant, luminous silver blood.
Rowan was knocked off his feet by the shockwave, landing hard on the turf. The hatchlings shrieked in terror, scrambling for the crevices of the cliff as secondary harpoons rained down, detonating concussive thunderstones across the ledge. ""Sylva!"" Rowan screamed, scrambling through the rising dust and choking smoke. He threw his small arms around her snout. The dragon’s breathing was ragged, her massive golden eye fixed upon him with profound terror—not for herself, but for the helpless young trembling behind her tail.
Through the clearing smoke, Rowan looked down at the flagship anchored beneath the shelf. Standing beside the ballista platform was an imposing figure draped in whalebone armor, holding a spyglass. Rowan froze as the man lowered the lens. Emblazoned across the commander’s iron breastplate was the crest of three silver keys—the identical crest stamped into the rusted bronze amulet Rowan had worn around his neck since he was an abandoned infant. Before Rowan could make sense of the horror creeping into his veins, a second volley of chains tore through the sky, tipped with barbed nets meant to capture them alive.
