Page 124 of Fire to the Stars

“How,” I stammer, “does a secret like that stay buried for solong?”

He inclines his head knowingly. He doesn’t need to respond. The answer is simple: under a mountain of coins.

“Do I descend from those slayers?” I ask warily. The idea of beingbredto protect the crimes of my direct ancestors makes me shudder.

“No,” he replies. “Once they perfected their hunting methods, they recruited unwitting mortals to fight in their stead. Modern slayers descend from them.”

“Short-lived puppets who wouldn’t question the archives?”

“That was their intention.”

Until I questioned everything.

But for centuries their system worked. The Estellios, the du Fays, the Houdins, and so many more slayer families bought intothe curriculum hook, line, and sinker. It permeated our lives from every angle. Toys. Training camps. The archives. The handbook. The creed at the heart of it all.

All dragons must die.

I shake my head. “I can’t imagine why they would entrust such a vital task to fragile mortals. Their immortality may be imperfect, but they can heal. Immortal slayers can’t lose.”

“Death is the concern of a mortal,” he replies. “Those who cannot die are concerned withqualityof life.”

Like Claire was, now that he mentions it.

Every action she took—since her first Ignition—involved hiding her healing power from the public. It makes sense that the Immortals would have done the same. If their ice healing had been exposed at any point, the entirety of Florent would have questionedThe Tale of Stars. It wouldn’t have taken long before the population uncovered Noctu’s location, eager to free him and end the dragon curse.

No wonder the Immortals felt the need to reinvent dragons as a symbol of moral failure. Self-righteousness was the perfect motivator to compel the rest of society to villainize them and perpetuate the lie.

For slayers especially.

In our pursuit of riches, we made ourselves judge, jury,andexecutioner. We eagerly killed the dragons—people—who could have ended Diu’s curse a long time ago.

Lucy stops pawing Claire’s shoulder and cocks her head at me, alert to my surge of emotion a split second before I realize it’s coming. I thumb the tear from my eye. Guilt has no place here. Not when our next steps are crystal clear.

“At least now we know the truth. We can free you,” I say.

“Do not misunderstand. Your presence here is no grave error,” Noctu replies. “Your journey up this mountain is yet another trap for you and your allies.”

Rule one of dragon hunting: Consider the bait.

Claire was right. The absence of enemies up the mountain—that was bait. A trick to convince us we had the upper hand. Here on the summit, we’ve grouped ourselves back together, perfectly positioned to die with no witnesses.

The knowledge that led us here will die with us.

I fell for my own rulebook. But that’s not all.

“If the Immortals are the original dragon slayers, then they have access to slayer weapons.” My eyes widen. “They’ll try to kill Claire.”

“Yes. They will.”

I raise the lantern for a closer look at the walls around us, hoping to find a hidden alcove—a convenient stash of moonmetal weapons that I can easily throw off the side of the mountain. Lucy sniffs around the stalagmites as if reading my mind, but she looks as lost as I feel.

“Slayers would keep all resources easily accessible,” I say. “But the Gendarmerie’s hounds never found moonmetal weapons in the stockpiles.”

“Their slayer equipment is stored separately from their other resources, only touched in a handful of instances where a dragon reached the summit,” Noctu explains. “It is a strategy against scent contamination.”

“The Immortals really did think of everything.” My grip tightens on the lantern. “But you see through their eyes. You must know where those weapons are.”

“I do, but they possess more stockpiles than you can emptyin one night. Without fail, they will equip themselves within minutes after sunsrise and easily overwhelm you.”