Kingdom

by Kyle West

I leaped out the door and began to fall.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  AS I FELL, THE DRAGON I’d tethered dove with me, swooping under me long before I could hit the ground. As soon as I was on its back, it spread its wings wide to slow itself. My legs clenched against its body with enough strength to hold myself on its back.

  The connection was still strong and sure. It was time to find Isaru and put an end to this.

  The dragon screamed as it dove, spreading its wings even wider to avoid crashing into a thin stone tower situated along a cobblestone street. The street itself was empty. People had sought shelter long ago. No one was bothering to mount a resistance.

  I looked behind to see that the Odin hovered on the periphery of the swarm, its turrets taking down a dragon that had strayed from the rest of the pack. It needed to leave, now, or get overwhelmed . . . but I had no control over that. All I could do was focus on my own goal.

  The dragon veered sharply and flew me up into the swarm. I deepened my meditation until there was nothing but the dragon beneath me, its mind, and the hundreds of Mindless surrounding me.

  They were beginning to realize something wasn’t right. Dragons were beginning to attack my tethered mount. I reached out and grabbed hold of another dragon’s mind, forcing it to dive into the streets below. I didn’t wait to see it crash because already another dragon was threatening my right side. I sent him spiraling down, extending my hand to channel the energy. It was as if the giant beast had been slapped by a colossal, but invisible, hand. As its neck snapped, it didn’t even scream as it careened, crashing headfirst into another dragon. Twisted together, they fell in tandem to the streets below.

  A path was beginning to clear. In a massive burst of energy, I drew all the power I could from the Xenofold, amplified by the Aether burning within me. I held that power as long as I could until it felt as if I would burn. The darkness of Silence faded until all was white and shining, burning as bright as a thousand suns.

  Then, I let go, screaming.

  My scream was replaced by the screams of every Mindless dragon around me. I opened my eyes, slumping onto the dragon I had leashed, barely maintaining my hold on him. I could barely focus my eyes enough to see dozens of dragons falling around me, crashing into the buildings below.

  It was but a fraction of the swarm . . . and even with the Aether, I felt as if my energy was spent.

  But there was one dragon ahead, larger than the rest. Somehow, I knew that was the one Isaru would be riding on.

  Fight me! I said. I’m coming for you, Isaru. I’m coming for you Rakhim!

  There was no response from the giant beast; its back faced me so that the rider was lost to view.

  You can’t run! This has only started!

  At long last, there was a response. But it wasn’t from Rakhim or Isaru.

  Shanti . . . the swarm is fleeing, Isandru said. I can hardly believe it.

  The voice felt as if it were a dream. I can’t hold on much longer . . .

  We’re coming for you, Isandru said. Stay there.

  Isandru . . .

  I directed my dragon to chase after the swarm, but the trailing dragons turned back to guard the army’s exposed rear. I had no choice but to hang back. Feebly, I reached out with Silence to probe for weaknesses. The dragon beneath me bucked as my tethering to it weakened.

  I couldn’t hold onto this dragon and fight . . . not anymore.

  The swarm was still fleeing, apparently not realizing that I had no more strength left. For now, the swarm was routed.

  I forced the dragon to the ground. If my strength was waning this quickly, then it was only a matter of time before the dragon overcame its mental bonds. I wanted to be safe on the ground when that happened.

  I slipped in and out of consciousness, aware of nothing but an image swimming in my mind. A cold, serene lake, wrapped in fog. A memory four hundred years old. It was as if I were there, and the lake was calling to me. Even as I tried to force the image from mind, I recognized it for what it was.

  The lake, I said. The way is open.

  With the realization, the image disappeared, as if it had never been.

  I knew then what I had to do. But I had to stay alive long enough to make it.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  THE LAST OF MY STRENGTH faded as soon as I was on the ground. I fell from the dragon’s back, landing on my hands and knees on an empty brick square surrounded by wooden buildings. There was a lashing in my mind as the dragon ripped itself from the connection I had forged. The shock made me spasm, but I quickly regained control of myself as the dragon screamed. I stood on weary legs, katana in hand, facing a large, black dragon spreading its dark wings wide. Its white eyes glowed as it stared down at me and let out a baleful roar.

  I ran.

  The dragon gave chase on all fours. I heard the whip of its tail as it caught me on the boot. The blunt force seared me with pain and sent me sliding across the dirt, blade in hand. I scrambled on my hands and knees and stood, grasping onto Silence with the last grain of power I had left.

  I entered a shaky posture of Windform—the best for dodging attacks.

  I just had to survive long enough for Odin to rescue me.

  The dragon stood straight with wings outstretched—it was smaller than a typical dragon, but compared to me, it was a giant. Its neck shot forward like a striking viper, its mouth agape, revealing long, needle teeth.

  I dashed to the side with an agility I didn’t think I possessed, narrowly missing the bite. I swung my blade, hard, but it glanced off the dragon’s black-glinting scales. The long neck wrapped around, and before it could constrict me, I vaulted over it, running alongside it while scraping my blade the entire way in a shower of sparks.

  The dragon disengaged with a snakelike hiss, swerving around until it faced me again, its cruel, white eyes glowed brightly. I let go of Silence, the last of my strength dissipating into the void. Any more and I would go unconscious. If I was unconscious, I couldn’t fight.

  The dragon probably wouldn’t dare bring its face or neck so close to me again—and in this assumption, I was right. I used the opportunity to gain some space and seek cover, but by the time it lifted its neck again, it closed what little space I had managed to gain, the ground rumbling under its weight.

  Its tail cracked like a whip, which I avoided by dashing to the side.

  I ran alongside a row of houses to seek cover in a stone barn about fifty feet away. The dragon gave chase. I was fifteen steps away from safety before a shadow overhead warned me of the dragon’s foot above me. I dove, barely avoiding being squished like a bug. I rolled until I faced up, only to see its mouth wide and diving straight for me. My two choices were to extend my blade and hope something connected or to roll away again.

  I chose to roll.

  I reached for Silence again, and to my amazement, found it. My fear became something outside me, my senses were sharper and all distractions faded into the distance. I entered a proper sword stance, this time choosing Sightform. I couldn’t worry about burning myself out now. It was either that or death.

  Odin, where are you?

  I backed up until I felt the stone wall of the barn at my back. The dragon shifted forward, extending its wings around me until I was trapped in almost complete darkness, despite the afternoon sun. There was a lull, a false quiet, a moment that made me think the dragon wasn’t going to kill me. But deep down, I knew this was a trap, and that she was only being cautious.

  I held onto Silence.

  Trust the form, I said. Not yourself.

  When its head fell suddenly, I danced out of the way. Teeth flashed in front of my face, but my blade was ready. I ran it along black gums; somewhere outside of Silence, I could feel the mouth’s heat and smell its rot. A vile liquid covered me as I jumped inside the mouth, landing on something pudgy.

  Its tongue, I thought, hardly believing.

  Still, I danced, even as the tongue ululated beneath me, as digestive juices drippe
d over me, stinging me as would acid.

  I cut as I danced, even as all light was gone. Even as acid rained down above me. But Silence was still there, not abandoning me in this dark place.

  I took the last of my strength, thrusting my blade upward, the blade piercing the roof of its mouth to the hilt. The scream came in an ear-splitting, foul gale, every part of my body shaking from it. But with the scream came my escape. I dashed over the thrashing tongue and dove between the sharp teeth, landing on the brick pavement outside.

  My blade was gone, left within the dragon who quivered and writhed like a dismembered insect.

  I crawled away, the dragon’s saliva burning every inch of my skin. I screamed, never knowing such pain. Not even fighting the crawlers had it been this bad. There was something strange wrapped around my arm, soaked in saliva and blood. It was long and brown, and I was horrified that it was some creature that had been living in the dragon’s mouth.

  After a moment, I recognized it as my hair.

  There was no time to think about the incongruity of finding my hair on my arm. I pushed against the bricks, feeling myself get hit with something that sent me flying further forward—an errant dragon’s wing, perhaps, from its final death throes.

  The screams, both hers and mine, went on and on. From somewhere in the square came the thrumming of Odin’s fusion engines. I looked up, half-blinded, to see it land. I looked further behind to see the dragon settling into death, dark blood pouring from the wounds in a torrent.

  It shook a moment longer before settling into death.

  A strange sound came from my throat, a half-croak, half-whimper. I crashed to the ground, knowing nothing more.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  WHEN I WOKE, IT FELT as if my skin were still on fire. First, I groaned but the pain became more and more intense until I was on fire.

  It was all I could do to hold back the screams.

  Someone ran into the room, fiddled with something, and then touched my skin, covering it with coolness.

  “Shush now, dear,” the unfamiliar woman’s voice said.

  Tears stung my eyes. “It hurts . . .”

  “I know. I know.”

  The hands moved over my entire body, rubbing ointment into it. I hadn’t even noticed I was unclothed. Whatever the hands touched, a numbing coolness was left behind.

  “Are you healing me?” I asked.

  The woman did not respond for a while as she worked. “I am doing my best, child. All of us are.”

  “Us?”

  She waved her hand to someone in the other room, and the door was shut.

  “Where am I? Who are you?”

  “Your friends are outside,” the woman said, continuing her work. “I am Mara. An herbalist. This is my apothecary and home.”

  “I . . . want to see them.”

  “In a minute. You’ve only just woken. By all rights, you should be dead.”

  Then, I remembered the dragon. So much of it was hazy. It had all happened so fast in one of my deepest battle meditations, made possible only by Aether. Trying to recall what happened was like trying to remember a dream from a week ago.

  “It covered me,” I said. “It’s blood. Its spit.”

  “We’ve cleaned you,” the woman said. “My daughter, Leah, and I.” She clicked her tongue. “Even burned myself.” The old woman’s blue eyes looked down at me, a smile creasing the corners of her mouth. “You saved us all. This is the least I can do.”

  The woman, at last, reached my neck and face, where she worked even more tenderly than before. She’d saved it for last because it had gotten the least of the dragon’s saliva. Even so, it burned badly, especially below my eyes and to the left of my mouth. That it missed my eyes entirely was a miracle.

  “You need food, water, rest. These wounds won’t go away but with the passage of time.”

  “I don’t have time,” I said. “The swarm ran away. I have to find it . . .”

  “Like this?” The woman shook her head. “There’s no way you’re leaving this place without my help. And your friends, at least, can see reason. You might be the Saint of Savannah, as they’re calling you, but I see a weak little girl who needs my potions and poultices.”

  The woman, irritatingly, reminded me of my mother. “I don’t think you know what’s at stake . . .” I tried to sit up, but the pain of it made it impossible. I laid back down, the woman watching with an arched eyebrow.

  “Like I said,” the woman said, “you’re not going anywhere for a while.”

  “How long’s a while?”

  I’d received a message. The way is open. How long would it remain open?

  “Several weeks for these wounds to mend. If they act anything like the burns they look like.”

  “Several weeks? It would be faster for Pallos to fly me back to Shenshi.”

  The woman looked at me in confusion.

  “There’s a place I can go,” I said. “Far away. They’ll be able to heal me in a couple of days, if that. If you’ll just let me leave—”

  “Pallos, you said? Handsome fellow. He made mention of that.” Then, under her breath she said, “Sounded like something out of a tall tale to me.”

  “Is it really so hard to believe, in a world of dragons and flying ships?”

  The woman grunted as if conceding my point.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Momma?” It was a female voice from inside the house. “It’s that blond girl again.”

  It had to be Isa. “Let her in!” I called.

  The healer, once again, cocked an eyebrow. “Go ahead, Leah.”

  I heard the door open, and within the moment, Isa had stepped inside and was standing at the foot of the bed. Upon seeing me, her blue eyes filled with tears. “Oh, gods. Shanti . . .”

  “I can’t be that ugly.”

  Instead of laughing, or even smiling, tears fell and she wiped her face. “I . . . don’t know what to say.”

  “She doesn’t know yet,” Mara said.

  “Know what?” I asked. “Tell me.”

  “How could you not have told her yet?” Isa asked.

  “She’s only woken,” Mara said. “I was hoping to tell her gently, but now—”

  Fear clutched my heart. “Just tell me what it is.”

  “You are scarred, Shanti,” Mara said. “You will heal . . . but not completely. The acidity of the dragon’s saliva also shed most of the hair from your scalp. If you haven’t noticed, which is possible due to your pain, you are completely bald.”

  Despite the severity of the situation, I said, “I guess I did feel a bit lightheaded.”

  The joke fell flat. Mara just watched me, while Isa took a seat at the foot of my bed.

  “I guess you haven’t seen me yet,” I said.

  Her voice came out quiet. “They wouldn’t let me. Shanti. You look like you’re in such pain.”

  “Wish I could say I’ve had worse, but . . . my hair will grow back, some day. Until then, I’ll just have to be ugly.”

  I made no mention of the scars. No doubt, they would never go away.

  “She’s the Saint of Savannah,” Leah said, stepping into the room. With her long, red hair, she might have been a sister of Fiona’s. “Her scars are her beauty.”

  “Of course,” Isa said.

  “Saint of Savannah,” I said. “Who came up with that one?”

  “It’s an old tale,” Leah said. “Saint Savannah built a church here before the city existed. She drove the dragons from the site where the city was going to be built during the Mindless Wars. It was said she would return when the dragons did, to protect Savannah in its time of greatest need.”

  “I’m your Saint Savannah, then?”

  “She had burns,” Leah pressed. “Like you”

  “From dragons? Dragons don’t breathe fire. They never have. These are acid burns.”

  “It’s hard to know truth from fiction in these stories,” Mara said. “One thing is sure. The city believes yo
u to be their Saint returned to life.”

  “Have you heard of Annara?”

  “Annara?” the old woman asked. “Anna, yes. Annara is what they call her out west. Anna Eldest in the East, martyr for the Church of Holy Light.”

  “The Church of Holy Light?”

  The old woman, once again, cocked a gray eyebrow in her characteristic way. “The Light is truth. A good person lives their life by the Light.”

  “And this Church of Holy Light is dedicated to Anna?”

  “Anna is the wife of Lord Alexandros,” the woman said, bowing her head in reverence. “Blessed be his name.”

  “Bless him,” Leah intoned, bowing her head as well.

  “Alex,” I said. “He’s remembered here, then.”

  “Out West, he has a different name, too,” Mara said. “You must be an Elekai. Only an Elekai could have defeated a dragon like that.”

  “I’m an Elekai and a Seeker.”

  “There are differences between our beliefs,” Isa said. “Our gods remain the same, however. I didn’t learn much about the religion of the East. I didn’t get too far in my studies.

  “The Church was small once,” Mara said. “But it pleased Alexandros to grow it. It began here in Savannah, and since then . . . it has flowered across many of the Eastern States.”

  “The Eastern Kingdoms, you mean.”

  “No,” Mara said. “States.”

  I didn’t see why the wording was so important, but perhaps it had to do with the past. Even if they weren’t united in fact, perhaps many still dreamed for it to be true.

  “Are you ready to be seen by the others?” Isa asked.

  “One at a time,” I said. “Send Isandru next.”

  Isa nodded. “All right. Shanti?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t reach you in time. That dragon . . . he made it hard for Pallos to land. And he was afraid to open fire, thinking he might harm you, too.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  I felt a gnawing hunger in my stomach, at the same time my face began to break out in sweat while my vision went hazy. I was hungry, but it was more than that. There was a deep dissatisfaction within me . . . a dissatisfaction I didn’t know the root of. The world had felt so real, so alive, when I’d used the Aether. I had felt such power. Perhaps, with that power again, I could even heal myself.