by P. R. Adams
She held the boy up. “He lives. There are more.”
Riyun squeezed into the hole, quickly getting a feel for the situation. The ground sloped down to what must have been a deep basement. A section of stone floor above had collapsed, but most of the structure had held, turning away the worst of the flames. It was still hot, but there was breathable air, and someone had cleared the path down.
Hirvok was close behind, flashlight playing across the hole and the room below. “How many more?”
“Four.” Riyun dropped into the basement. He spotted a fifth, but the body was small, and he wasn’t sure it was a survivor. He gathered up two girls, shushing them when they began to cry and whispering reassurances to them. In times like this, it wasn’t the words that mattered but the intent. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Hirvok took the girls and crawled back out. By the time Riyun had the next two—a young couple who seemed to be in shock—Naru and Tawod were back. Tawod took the young man, and Naru took the young woman.
Riyun returned to the fifth. It was a baby; its head was caved in. He held the little form to his chest and rocked it. It was only one of what must have been thousands killed in the attack, but there was something about it that left an ache in his chest.
Debris rattled against the basement floor as someone descended. The way the boots hit with a hollow, barely perceptible clap told him it was Javika.
She hung back not far from him. “We should leave it here.”
“We need to find out how they tend to their dead. Let them decide.”
“If they worry about one body, they will not survive themselves. They need food and water, same as us.”
“Then we leave them some of what we find.”
“What we have found will not be enough for us.”
“Then we have to make do. We have the smoked lizard meat. You heard the old woman—these things came for us.”
Javika took the body from him. She studied it curiously, as if she couldn’t understand how it even existed. “Those things have no concern for even the innocent.”
“It’s war. She said this Meriscoya is destroying cities to make a point.”
The Biwali warrior set the baby’s head on her shoulder and rocked it back and forth gently. “If this man intends to hunt us down…”
“Yeah. I know. We have to hunt him down first. But if we find a way home—”
“Do you believe there is a way home?”
“Aliat Dachul found one. We will, too.”
That seemed to satisfy her. She carried the baby deeper into the basement and set it next to a collapsed wall. She built a framework of stones around the little form, then covered it with more stones until the body was completely buried.
She returned, a noticeable stiffness to her stride. “No animals should trouble the body.”
When they climbed back out, they found the others collected around the wounded, already distributing what had been scavenged from the ruins. Quil had set the broken arm and helped the burned woman into fresh clothing. There were other garments piled nearby, most of them soot-stained. It made sense to find at least a few things they could switch into to fit in better.
Riyun picked through the clothing, finally finding a shirt and what passed for pants that might fit. Javika joined him, lips twisted in a frown. She was going to have an even harder time finding something that could fit her long, lean frame.
Tarlayn approached slowly, eyes squinted toward the huddled survivors. “You give them food and water?”
“And clothes and weapons. And coins.” Riyun set his backpack down, took off his armor, and tried on the shirt. “They’re in no condition to forage.”
“But you can leave them to their own devices.”
“That’s not how we operate.”
“Noble.”
“Human. Unlike those…dragons?”
“Yes—dragons.”
“They seemed smart enough to know what they were doing. Are they under this Meriscoya’s control?”
The elderly woman seemed to consider that, lips pressed tight and eyes nearly squeezed shut. “That is a good enough description. They’re too powerful to truly be controlled by even a wizard as powerful as Meriscoya, but he has an uncanny way of influencing even such ancient beings.”
“So, he’s convinced them to do his bidding?”
“Convinced them that their desires align with his, although I doubt they would ever have been foolish enough to attack the cities on their own.”
Riyun snorted. “Doesn’t look like they were in any danger.”
“Oh, no. I mean…” She rubbed her brow with her undamaged hand. “Dragons do not operate in this manner normally. The little ones that attacked you might associate in small groups, but—”
“The babies?”
“Those were not babies. Dragon hatchlings are about the size of a large hound. They develop into different types, depending on… Well, no one knows for certain what makes some become as big as the larger ones that destroyed the city instead of the smaller things that troubled you.”
“Wait, you’re saying those were all the same thing: grown dragons of different size?”
“Different size; different appearance; on a very rare occasion, different capabilities. Some never develop the intelligence you noted. Some have tails that drip poison.”
“Wonderful.” Riyun pulled the shirt off. It was a tight fit, but it would do. He put his armor back on. Even though he wanted to clean up first, he needed to cover up.
Tarlayn tapped his carbine with the end of her staff. “This is probably what he feared.”
“This Meriscoya? He fears a gun?”
“The prophecy. The destroyers are said to come with a fire of their own. It is why the Tongalon Green is guarded by the beasts he set in place.”
“The flying lizards?”
“Draco. His own creations. Not quite dragons, but in sufficient numbers, more than capable.”
“Draco, huh? Not something—” Riyun bit his lip. It didn’t seem right to tell the woman she was part of a game. “So, is that a bone of contention with the dragons, him creating his own guardians?”
“I’m sure they’ve reached some sort of understanding.” The old woman’s smile said his assumption was right.
“Well, these dragons might believe in prophecy, but I don’t. It sounds like convenient bullshit.”
“Oh, absolutely. Our history is overrun with nonsensical prophecies used as a tool to manipulate the weak-minded, much the same as the religions of old.”
“Yeah, that’s usually the way it is.”
“Except, this prophecy is real. There is too much truth that has come from it to be ignored.”
“Sure, if you word things generically enough, you can make anything seem to match a prophecy.”
A twinkle flashed in Tarlayn’s eyes. “Perhaps it is best if I take you to the Temple of Kaal for you to see for yourself.”
“A temple? Is it on the way to where this Meriscoya lives?”
“He can be wherever he wants to be, but he does have a tower much like Olun’s: eternal. Not far from the city of Garelan. He spends most of his time there. Or he did before the attacks.”
“And this temple is on the way?”
“Not out of the way.”
“Fine. I guess that’s our next objective.” Riyun secured the last piece of his armor. “Don’t take this wrong, but what’s in this for you? Why are you helping us? This prophecy?”
“Hardly. All I want is to see Meriscoya die.” She clenched her jaw tight—a grim, determined look on her face.
“Why? So you can replace him? No, thanks. Removing one despot to put another into place isn’t in our DNA.”
Tarlayn chuckled—dry and ironic. “I have no interest in replacing him.”
“All right. Then what? What is it you want?”
She stroked her scarred neck with the fingers of her ruined hand, and her eyes misted. “I want what I’ve
wanted for years now. I want to finally be free of the pain and sadness of this body. I want to die.”
24
Riyun belly-crawled through tall grass brighter green than any he’d ever seen. When his elbows dug in, the sweet earthiness of the blades was lost to the sharp, acrid burst of ash that coated the earth. Occasionally, some burnt remnant would snap beneath him, and he would freeze and hold his breath. But there was no indication that sound had gone beyond him. So he would breathe again and resume his crawl.
And then he reached the end of the tall grass, the point where it had been chewed down to the ashen dirt. About one hundred feet away, a small herd of hoofed animals chomped on the young grass. Days out from Yagath, the land had developed a delicate but noticeable undulation. With the grass covering everything, this area seemed level once again.
Beneath the ash, the soil was dark and rich with minerals. It would have been ideal for crops.
He plucked a blade of grass, smeared it between his gloved fingers.
His people would have dreamed of such a place, but this Meriscoya was content to burn it.
What could drive someone—
Something cracked behind him.
The animals’ long heads rose up from their grazing.
He hissed and slowly pulled the Devastator from his back.
But after sniffing the air, the animals went back to their meals.
Lonar edged up to Riyun’s position, red-faced from exertion. “Sorry. There was a twig back there. How does a twig not get burned to ash?”
“Might’ve been them.” Riyun slowly drew his knife and pointed the tip toward the herd. “Get caught up in their horns, in their hooves, they could carry it for miles. Or the wind.”
“Not used to all that wind. Makes for some miserable hiking.”
“If we can find some shelter, maybe we can have a decent fire and some warmth while we sleep.”
“Hot steak, warm fire—all that’s missing is an icy beer.”
“Well, I hope you like lean meat. That herd looks like it’s been hunting for grass for a while.”
“Lean’s fine on the plate, just not in bed.” Lonar winked.
Riyun chuckled. “I wonder why the dragons didn’t come back and burn this place more thoroughly.”
“Maybe they need these things for food. Scrawny like that, I’m not sure how many they’d have to eat to get filled up.”
“I don’t know how something that big could survive without wiping out this kind of herd. Just another thing that doesn’t make sense about those dragons. Or those dracos. How do they fly? How do they survive without wiping all the food out around them? Just how big are their brains to be intelligent and to run a body that size?”
The big man’s face scrunched up. “You thought about that?”
“You telling me you didn’t?”
“All I care about is how you kill the damn things. Guess I never thought of starving them to death.”
“That’s the point: They should already be starving to death. How many herds have we seen in the last week? Even if the dragons lived off humans, we haven’t seen any of those either. Those lizards look like carnivores. Cold-blooded or not, they need meat, and a lot of it.”
“They need a .40 caliber round between their eyes, is what they need.”
“Give it some time. You’ll have your chance.”
A bright light flashed in the tall grass on the far side of the flattened area: a mirror catching the afternoon sun. Hirvok and the forward team were in place.
Riyun pointed to one of the larger of the beasts. “All right, Hirvok’s going to snipe that one. You see that female that’s almost the same size? The one with the white patterns on her flank?”
“I see her.”
“Naru and Tawod are going to flush her away from the herd. I need you to make sure she doesn’t get past this point.” Nothing more strenuous than that. Riyun was worried about the big man, about the way he kept fading, only to slowly come around again. What did that mean for his heart? “You hear me, Lonar? No heroics. No guns.”
“I hear you. Conserve your ammo. Let everyone starve because you’re too damned weak to contribute. My backpack’s mostly empty.” The heavy weapons expert struggled to pull his knife from its sheath.
“You contribute all the time, Lonar. Let the rest of us take up some slack.”
The big man grunted, and the muscles of his jaw bulged.
Riyun pulled a small mirror from inside his armor and returned Hirvok’s signal. Somewhere on the other side of the feeding area, Javika was hidden in the grass, sword drawn, and eyes locked on her target—the largest of the females. The way Riyun figured it, the herd had a good chance of surviving if they left the big male and the younger females. The targets all fulfilled a role in herd survival, obviously, but with fewer in the herd, they wouldn’t need to move on from this small grazing area for a while.
The big male’s head came up, and it let out a strange moan that was nearly overcome by the roar of Hirvok’s rifle.
That was the signal.
Riyun pushed up and sprinted from his position, heavy knife in hand. He kept his eyes on the target he shared with Javika, but he also kept the big bull in sight. Already, the herd was moving, charging away from the fallen female and the roar of the gun. But their trajectory wasn’t consistent. They were moving chaotically, heading away in scattershot panic.
Another deep, low moan from the big male brought them around and into a true herd. It was a herd with a common purpose and single direction.
Straight toward Riyun.
“Shit.” He adjusted his course to get to the side closest to his target and away from the bull.
As the animals barreled toward him, three forms shot from the tall grass. Javika had positioned herself perfectly to intercept the grouped animals. Riyun assumed she probably had done the same for Naru and Tawod, because they were also in perfect position.
The big male spotted them, but he was already past their position. Would he turn back around to try to rescue the animals the squad was going after, or would he worry about saving his herd?
Come on, big guy. Do your duty. Save the herd.
He did. The herd kept running, even as the human hunters took their first swings at their targets.
But now the bull changed course. He was coming for Riyun again.
He skidded to a stop, then sprinted at an angle away from the oncoming animals.
The bull changed course to follow.
It was a bad development. The juggernaut armor wasn’t going to stand up to the weight of so many of the animals. And the hooves…
Riyun changed course again, sprinting back toward the tall grass.
Lonar was on his feet, waving his arms over his head. “This way! Around me!”
If the big man intended to act as a wall, he was going to get himself killed. He was dense and heavy, and even without his wetware, he was strong, but these were charging animals, many of which outweighed him.
Their weapons—one or two shots—would probably be enough to frighten animals. But every shot was a round expended, and it was a greater chance of their enemies noticing them.
They needed to find a different way. And maybe the big man knew what he was doing.
Once again, Riyun adjusted course and leaned into his run.
It didn’t help. The thundering hooves grew closer.
He risked a glance over his shoulder—far behind, Naru and Tawod were on their butts, and their bloodied target was charging after the herd.
Which was so, so close now.
Something hit Riyun in the chest, and then he was airborne, then on his back, gasping.
He twisted around to see what had happened.
Lonar. The big man had come forward. He had thrown Riyun clear and was now crouched down, waiting, roaring through his helmet.
The bull didn’t waver but charged the new challenge.
When the big male was a few feet away, Lonar hurled himself at the animal
’s legs.
Suicide. Lonar was just looking for an honorable way out. And he had it.
Despite stumbling, the bull kept on, and his herd followed. Their hooves crashed against the armor of the heavy weapons expert with a sickening heaviness and finality. Somehow, the big man’s body didn’t move. He lay flat on the ground, head down, one hand covering his head, the other keeping his heavy battle knife pinned flat to the ground.
Until all that was left of the herd was the wounded animal Naru and Tawod had failed to kill. The poor beast charged forward, making a distressed, panicked sound. Blood tracked along its sides from where its throat had been cut. It wouldn’t survive, but it didn’t want to be left to die.
Riyun couldn’t tolerate the horrible desperation of its moaning. He reached for his carbine.
Then Lonar’s free hand shot up and swatted the wounded animal’s hoof.
The thing stumbled, and it was too weak to keep its balance. It crashed to the ground, knocking up a black spray of fine ash.
Bones snapped, and its sad sounds became a miserable gut punch.
Somehow, Lonar managed to jump on top of the poor animal and with a meaty tear silenced the terrible sounds.
Riyun ran to the big man, sure he would slide off the animal, dead.
Instead, Lonar twisted around and yanked off his helmet, tossing it aside with a wide-eyed, maniacal laugh. “Did you see that? Did you see? I dove right at his legs, and he kept his balance. He should’ve gone down.” He broke into laughter again.
“What in the Hollow Hills—?”
Rustling in the tall grass brought Riyun around. He half-expected to see the large bull come back for revenge, but it was Tarlayn. The tip of her staff glowed with a malevolent emerald energy, and the limp that had troubled her since departing Yagath seemed even more pronounced now. She hooked a thumb into her wiry hair and pulled it back from her face, but the wind didn’t seem content to leave it be, quickly tossing strands back into her eyes.
She hobbled over to the slain animal, a sadness settling on her wrinkled brow. “I thought you knew how to hunt.”
“We do. These animals…” Excuses. Riyun could hear it in his voice. “It’s different.”
