Dragonseers and Airships

by Chris Behrsin

  Alsie snapping Francoiso’s neck as I watched it helpless from the air.

  Sukina’s wide eyes, when the dart thrown from Alsie’s hand buried itself in her neck.

  Watching Sukina die in Forsolano’s sickbed.

  And the promise I’d made to her that I’d look after Taka.

  Sukina’s body crumbling to ash under the flames at her first funeral, just outside Forsolano’s cottage.

  And then, finally, I saw myself growing out of the ground as the Tree Immortal. My roots burying into the soil and becoming the spirit of secicao. Me, the destroyer of worlds.

  Worse than King Cini.

  Worse than Alsie Fioreletta.

  Worse than Finesia incarnate.

  And all this terrified me so much that the righteous part of my mind surfaced once again.

  “No!” I screamed out. And, with a strength that I didn’t know I had, I launched the yard of Exalmpora over the deck.

  Colas’ jaw dropped.

  And he reacted fast. He pushed himself forward on his cane, took hold of a hipflask from his hip and poured some liquid down his throat. I lurched forward to strangle him, but the panther rushed in front of the old man to protect him. The automaton tripped me and sent me stumbling towards the back of the airship. I caught myself against the railings and I spun around.

  I found myself looking headfirst into the glaring red eyes of the panther. Its spire started to glow white and I backed away from it. It edged me towards the other side of the hole where the telescope was. Meanwhile, Colas lurched towards the lever and grasped it with one hand.

  “I thought it might come to this, Pontopa Wells,” Clearly, he’d decided to no longer address me as Dragonseer. “So, it’s time to make your choice.” His voice had raised in volume quite significantly, perhaps one of the side effects of his secicao blend. “It’s either the soldier or the inventor. Which one is more important to you? Will you choose the future of science, an important heir to the dragonseer line? Or will you choose the man you care about, the one you have feelings for?”

  “I won’t—”

  “You will choose,” Colas cut in, bellowing at a volume that defied his age.

  “No,” I said, and I spat bile out of my mouth onto the floor. “I won’t play your stupid games.”

  “Why? Are you telling me that you can’t make the hard decisions? How will you lead thousands into battle against Alsie, if you can’t sacrifice one insignificant life?”

  For a moment, my breath caught in my throat. “Why’s it so important to you Colas?” I said. “What do the lives of these men mean to you?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” Colas said. “Except Finesia is testing you. She wants to know that you have the capability to become her right-hand woman. Prove to her your true worth.”

  One name, that would be all it would take to end this. And part of me wanted to choose Faso, not so much out of malice, but because of how I felt for Wiggea. But that was a selfish reason and I had to push it away. “I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I will not play your games.”

  Colas shook his head and looked genuinely disappointed. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to this. But unfortunately, I’ll have to choose for you.” And before I could react, he pulled down on the lever. In the distance, I saw the blade swing to the right. Then the tiny ant, who I knew to be Wiggea, fell into the gaping maw of the volcano.

  “No!” I muttered under my breath. “Colas, you bastard!” How could he? And the rage flared in my chest, like the lava pit Rastano Wiggea had just plummeted into.

  I took one step towards Colas, but the panther automaton growled and gnashed its teeth at me, stopping me in my tracks. Colas pressed another button on the control panel next to the lever. The staircase at the back of the airship flipped into a ramp. There came a whirring sound from down below and up rolled an automaton on caterpillar tracks with an elongated oblong body and two stubby arms, carrying another yard full of liquid. This also contained Exalmpora.

  “You know,” the old man said. “The whole taking your blood thing was for show. I had the tribespeople deliver some up for me when you were down in the jungle and I took another ampule-full when you were unconscious here.”

  I could feel the pull of the Exalmpora. It was so enticing yet, at the same time, I knew I had to resist it.

  Because the man who’d just kissed me the night before was now down there being eaten alive by the maw of the earth. Colas had not even given me a chance to say goodbye. He’d just snuffed out his life like a candle.

  Is this what it means to be a servant of Finesia? To have everything that you love taken away…

  I looked down at the husk of Ratter splayed out on the airship floor. If only I knew how to fix it. The automaton would do something, and I don’t know what, to get me out of this situation.

  “Dragonheats, Colas,” I said through clenched teeth. “You deserve to die.”

  Colas shook his head and glared at me with renewed vigour in his eyes. “Now, will you drink the Exalmpora?”

  I shook my head. “Whatever you do to me, you cannot force me to bend to Finesia’s will.”

  “Then I shall kill Faso Gordoni as well.” Colas clenched his hand on the lever.

  “Then do it. I have nothing left…”

  Colas shook his head hard. He clearly hadn’t expected so much resistance. But maybe he’d just taken the wrong man. If I knew the life of Wiggea was at stake right now, he might have trapped me into fulfilling his wishes.

  “Wench,” Finesia’s voice came in my mind. “This is my will, and you shall obey my commands.” And I felt my muscles twitching, the empress’ will pulling me towards the second yard of Exalmpora.

  No, Charth had resisted. It was possible to have strength.

  “I will not. You have no dominion over me, Finesia. I have my own will.”

  Colas raised his cane off the floor and pointed it at the staircase. “I will take the life of Taka Sako,” he said.

  “You said yourself that Taka is too important. You wouldn’t dare kill the boy, and I shall not drink the Exalmpora, whatever you try.”

  Colas sighed. “Very well, you force me into my last resort.”

  He reached into his pocket with lightning speed. At the same time, I turned towards the railing and decided I would use it to vault over the hole and wrestle Colas down. I could take his life before the panther got to me. Then, at least Taka could live.

  But, still augmented, Colas was too quick. He produced a pistol out of his pocket, and he pulled the trigger. Just as I started to launch myself off my feet, the bullet hit me hard and sent me stumbling backwards. An intense pain flared in my gut, and I looked down to see the hole there. Then came an excruciating throbbing in my back. I clutched my hands to my stomach as blood and acid frothed out of it. Then I looked back up at and the sneer on Colas’ dry lips.

  “Now, Dragonseer, you have a choice. You can either drink the Exalmpora and claim immortality, or you can lose the very life you hold dear.”

  “Do it, my child,” Finesia said in my head. “Claim the power as your own. This is what you always wanted and it’s much better than dying.”

  But I felt so weak I couldn’t do anything. My head was spinning. My whole body was becoming numb. I felt ready to pass out.

  But instead, I opened my mouth sung a song of harsh and grating notes. My voice lashed out and created shimmers in the air. I wasn’t calling dragons but something else. I was singing with the voice of a goddess. Grey clouds started to take shape around us, and the gondola began to rock.

  “What are you doing?” Colas said. “You can’t heal yourself through singing.”

  But I wasn’t trying to heal anything.

  “Take the Exalmpora, my darling. Taste the power of what you can do with secicao. Together, we can control storms and volcanoes. We can rule this world.”

  By this point, my senses had reduced to nothing, and I saw only blackness. Then, out of the darkness, I saw two paths, lit ever so faintl
y by torchlight. Finesia, the mad goddess, stood by one in ancient ceremonial robes of every colour. Her path led to a garden rich in fruit and flowers.

  And by the other, Sukina stood in a simple floral dress. She beckoned me down a path that led back to darkness. I lifted myself onto my feet and I followed her down that path.

  Part VII

  Charth

  “Free will is the most valuable thing that we possess. And to that, absolutely nothing can compare.”

  Charth Lamford

  20

  I left Sukina behind at the cave just as my spirit floated out of the body of Pontopa Wells. And thus, I began my journey through the true form of the collective unconscious. An astral state where I could travel wherever I pleased. As long as, that was, Pontopa Wells still lived.

  All around me, I no longer saw blackness, but sparkles of many colours, like sunlight gleaming off water. Glowing lines connected these sparkles together, forming an intricate network of brilliant light. They danced across the world proper, shooting out in every direction. And upon those myriad lines I could travel anywhere I pleased.

  “You cannot control the power of a God,” Finesia said to me. “It isn’t human.”

  Because it hadn’t been Colas who had called the storm on the Saye Explorer, but Finesia. She knew of magic to manipulate the world’s essence. There were ways in the collective unconscious to higher powers, and Finesia had lived here long enough to know of them well.

  But now, I wasn’t in human form. I was something else. A wisp floating on the collective unconscious. One with the power to control more than merely muscles, songs, and words.

  I could float over Colas without him even knowing of my presence. I could hover near to the panther automaton, and it wouldn’t even turn its head.

  I could dart into the clouds and disturb the currents there to throw out bright sparks of lightning. I could make the wind blow and rock the deck of Colas’ airship and scare him to smithereens.

  Colas had been right. The collective unconscious wasn’t just about controlling minds. It connected the spirit and soul of every single thing on this earth.

  “No,” Finesia said in my mind. “You are not meant to do this.” But even her voice was distant.

  Because I had my own will, and I had my own spirit.

  “Send me teetering over the abyss of death,” I responded in kind, “and I will find myself. This is the will of the collective unconscious. And we will not let you hold dominion.”

  I darted down over the airship deck, following the slope of the volcano into the jungle canopy beneath. I ghosted through the canopy – I didn’t have to worry about physical forms in this ethereal state, and I floated over to Velos. I felt the dragon’s anxiety pushing away the collective unconscious, not letting it in.

  So I, in my form in the collective unconscious, bid Pontopa Wells to sing a song that Velos could hear in his darkest hour. I watched Velos from my position above his back as he tossed his head to the sky and roared, and the panther that guarded him lifted itself up on its haunches in alarm.

  The spire sticking out of the automatons mouth began to glow white, but Velos had renewed courage now. Unlike the panther he could fly, and that was to his advantage.

  I floated even closer to Velos on the network of souls, until I was almost touching him. Tendrils of light spread out from my essence and kissed his skin. Then, I reached out further and found my way into his head. Now, I could watch the world through a dragon’s eyes.

  I didn’t take control of Velos’ will, as such. But I did enter his mind so at least I could help calm his anxiety. And in this ethereal form, I could understand the language he spoke in his head.

  In short, he was terrified. Not just because of this beast of a panther that had shot him out of the sky, but because he felt that it could take his life. And Velos had not yet fulfilled his purpose. He hadn’t fathered the egg of a dragon queen, which the whole of Fortress Gerhaun was relying upon him to do. He could die leaving nothing behind, he felt, and this is what he was so scared of. That and the fact his only friend in the whole world would soon lose her own life – he could sense that too. And I understood his pain. But, at the same time, I knew he had to face this fear.

  So, as Pontopa’s life slowly slipped away from her, I willed her to push through and sing out to the dragon, who once again tossed his head and roared out to the sky. Velos beat his wings, lifted himself up from the ground in one deft movement before the panther even had time to respond. The automaton turned its head to Velos, and the white ball began to grow out of its mouth. And Velos flew up into the sky and, instead of fleeing, he turned himself downwards again and covered the automaton in yellow flame.

  It didn’t do much, metal being metal, and that ball of blue light continued to glow, tracking Velos as he moved. It stopped him getting close to the panther, for Velos’ most natural solution would be to take it up in his claws. But, just at the last minute, Velos turned away from the panther and circled around the branches in the forest. He kept his wings close to his body, while still wide enough that he could keep himself aloft. The dragon found a path through the trees as the panther made chase after him, that ball of blue light tracking every movement Velos made. Both Velos and the automaton gained speed, Velos’ aerial acrobatics so impressive that he’d do a swallow proud. And as he did, the panther also sprinted with incredible pace, and one would think Velos wouldn’t be able to outfly it.

  But this was all part of the plan.

  At the last minute, I willed Velos to steer upwards into a loop the loop. He crashed through the canopy above. A few branches slowed his ascent a little, but they didn’t otherwise stop the gracefulness of the manoeuvre. The panther had too much momentum now that it couldn’t slow down. It kept charging ahead, ducking its path through the trees, while Velos crashed back through the canopy and exited his stunt to approach the automaton from behind. He swept down and took the beast in its claws. Meanwhile, the automaton let out a vast thundering growl and released the ball of energy, which dissipated against a branch.

  Velos lifted the automaton up towards the volcano. If he dropped it into the firepit, then it would trouble him no more. But the automaton also had more tricks up its sleeves, and it siphoned into its body the power it might have used to fuel its weapon, electrocuting the dragon. Velos’ body shuddered, and his wings wanted to give out.

  But here I was within Velos’ head calming him. And I wouldn’t let him give up. Meanwhile, Pontopa Wells, with pain still throbbing in her stomach where the bullet had pierced her, continued to sing. And Velos perked up his ears and latched on to the song, reminding him to be brave and that he had much more strength in his body than he thought. He closed his eyes to preserve energy and navigated using the scent of sulphur and the increasing heat.

  As he climbed, his muscles continued to get increasingly numb, as the automaton increased the intensity of the electricity that pulsed through him.

  He opened his eyes just briefly to see where the rim was, but he could see that it was still far above him. His will weakened for a moment, and the strength left his wings. He started to plummet to the floor.

  “No,” I said in his mind. Not in Towese, but in the language of the collective unconscious that a dragon could understand. “Velos, you’re stronger than this.”

  And he tossed his head in agreement and let off a tremendous growl. His wings flurried into action, and he beat them as hard as he could. He climbed faster than I’d ever seen him climb and soon enough he was over the rim of the volcano. Meanwhile, the panther gnashed and snarled within his claws. Still sending volts outwards through Velos’ body.

  But Velos didn’t need to flap his wings anymore, for he was high enough to soar. The electricity pulsing through his body made him want to contract his wings inwards, which would send both him and the panther into a dive towards the firepit. The panther automaton clearly didn’t care if it died or not.

  Velos tried to open his claws, but with the curr
ent passing through them, they remained fastened around the automaton’s chest. “Come on, Velos, you can do this,” I reminded him, and the dragon opened his mouth to roar again. He opened his eyes, and, through a dragon’s vision, I watched the waves of heat rising through the air, coming from the magma below.

  It must have taken an intense amount of internal strength to do so. But, calmed by my presence and Pontopa Wells’ song, Velos soon enough managed to open those claws.

  The automaton tumbled into the magma pit and vanished beneath a wave of lava, letting out a dark plume of smoke.

  “Faso,” I said to Velos. “We need to rescue him.” The dragon turned his head to the edge of the cart tracks where the inventor still dangled, the size of an ant from Velos’ current location. He tucked in his wings and dived downwards. It was hot enough for Velos to feel it and so must have been searing for Faso. Dragonheats, there was a good chance the inventor wouldn’t have survived the heat.

  Velos approached Faso then, the inventor’s face ashen and his skin looking blanched. He looked like he was on the verge of giving up. Faso looked up at the dragon approaching and, in his eyes, flashed a glimmer of hope. Yet with his mouth gagged and tied against the stake, he couldn’t say anything.

  Velos flew around the back of the stake and lashed at the rope with his claws, loosening some of it. He seared the rest of it off with a concentrated flame, taking great care not to also char the inventor. Then, Velos circled round once again and levelled himself in front of Faso.

  I promptly left Velos’ mind so I could see the rest of the action from a distance. Faso didn’t hesitate to jump on Velos’s armour, clutching on to the middle seat for dear life. As he did, Velos flapped his wings to get away from the sheer heat of the volcano, renewed energy coming from within. I followed them as I watched Faso clamber onto the back seat, find some footing, harness himself in, reach down and turn the spigot on Velos’ flank.