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The Fifth Magic

Page 14

by Brian Rathbone


  Leaning over the rail, Kenward waved good-bye to his friends and his sister--he hoped not for the last time. Once they were over land, the feeling aboard the ship changed. Kenward's orders were often anticipated by the crew at this stage of the journey, and the severely shorthanded crew worked with alacrity. Kenward watched closely to make certain speed did not affect quality. These tasks were required not to suit his whim; they were matters of life and death; a single bad knot could send them crashing into the rock face or the valley floor. Despite his efforts, the Serpent moved with too much speed. One thing Kenward had never figured out was how to slow down his airship when pushed by prevailing winds. The crew's skill manipulating the sails gave him some control under good conditions, but stronger gusts sent the Serpent out of control. The lack of a solution was now Kenward's foremost concern.

  When Dragonhold came into view, Kenward was glad to see the gates open. A part of him had been wishing for the gates to be closed, but Trinda awaited his cargo, and the trader in him knew a good captain always delivered. Darkness was all he could see within the hold, and he could only hope they were ready for his entrance. "Sound the horn! Secure yourselves!" Kenward shouted.

  Farsy pulled down three times on a cord running into the boiler room, and three deep blasts issued from the ship's horns before Kenward's trusted friend looped a rope harness over his shoulders and grinned. Their speed was likely to send them deeper into the great hall than on their previous entrance into Dragonhold. Kenward did everything he could to scrub off speed. Nothing helped. The Serpent entered Dragonhold with her crew screaming in terror. Just barely clearing the gates, the ship turned sideways as the wind socks dragged against protruding edges. When the Serpent struck stone, she skidded and bounced on her starboard side, leaving everyone aboard bruised and scraped.

  Kenward's vision slowly adjusted, and he cursed himself for not using the oldest pirate trick known. He should have worn a patch over one eye to preserve his night vision. Had he pulled off the patch upon entering the darkness, he would have been able to see with one eye, at least. A strange puff of warm wind buffeted Kenward for an instant, and his vision was slow to return. The air smelled of smoke and something else. He was worrying over the furnaces and boilers when his vision cleared. A dragon's head towered over them. The mighty beast's roar was more than Kenward's psyche could handle. He fainted, crumbling to the Serpent's angled deck.

  * * *

  A mature dragon's roar bellowed through Dragonhold like chained thunder. Sinjin wondered for a moment if the sound truly was thunder. It had been known to rain within these parts of the keep, but he'd heard that thunder, and this was different. This sounded alive and Kendra appeared to agree. Both turned to leave the inexplicable stone wheel they had been contemplating, and Sinjin feared someone would bar their path; it had happened before.

  Mostly they had been honored as guests, but there was no question as to who was in charge and who determined their fate. Trinda was not unkind, but neither was she friendly. Not for the first time, Sinjin wished he'd been nicer to her in the past. They say the true measure of a person can be seen in the way he treats people less powerful than himself, and Sinjin was ashamed of things he'd said and done.

  Regret was a part of growing up, but he'd been taught not to let past mistakes prevent great things in the future. Those mistakes taught him how to be a better person, his father had always said. Sometimes it was as if he could still hear his father's voice in his mind. He missed his father terribly.

  "What do you think that was?" Kendra asked softly. Trinda's guards were never far away.

  "I don't know," Sinjin said, not wanting to admit he hadn't been thinking about it.

  "Not sure how much more excitement I can take," Kendra said.

  Sinjin laughed. It felt good to release some of his tension, even if just a small amount. A crowd had gathered along the shoreline of the God's Eye, waiting for the barges to return from the far shore. These people wanted to know what was happening just as badly as he and Kendra did. Their arrival among the crowd did not go unnoticed, and though no one spoke to them, they did clear a way for Sinjin and Kendra, silently acknowledging Dragonhold's rightful masters. He wasn't certain what exactly the child queen had said to the people, but it was clear they feared communicating openly with him and Kendra. It saddened him.

  The barges were larger and more substantial than the ones originally built under Catrin's leadership. These barges required four men to pole them and could hold many more people, though it appeared the original, smaller barges were also still in use. When they arrived, however, no one boarded. Instead, Sinjin and Kendra were left standing closest to the shoreline, and they boarded in uncomfortable silence. Even the young men manning the poles did not speak to them, despite Sinjin's knowing three of them fairly well. Bradley, at the very least, met his eyes and gave him a nod. The others were afraid to do even that. Such things made him dislike Trinda, and he remained conflicted with regard to the child queen. Only water lapping against the barge and moving poles accompanied their journey across the lake.

  On the far side of the God's Eye, the passageway and the great hall beyond were eerily quiet and empty. Normally a steady flow of people moved through this hall, and now their boot steps echoed in the silence. A distant shuffling sound like leather on stone reached their ears but was too distorted to tell them much. A sinking feeling nauseated Sinjin.

  A horn sounded three times, and he recognized its call. Screaming and shouting were followed by another deep roar, this one unmistakable.

  Entering the great hall at a full run, Sinjin and Kendra slowed and stared at the spectacle unfolding. It took a moment before they truly understood what they saw. Clouds of black smoke mingled with steam rolling across the ancient mosaic floor of the hall. Rising out of smoke and steam stood a dragon that dwarfed the regals. Sinjin soon recognized Jehregard, still wearing his tierre, and Onin of the old guard glaring at anyone who dared approach.

  Before the dragon, like a child's toy in disarray, the Serpent lay on her side. Nimsy and Farsy helped Kenward off the ship. Sinjin and Kendra were soon running again, seeing their friends in trouble. By the time they reached the others, much of the excitement was over. The fire on the Serpent appeared to have been quenched, and the wind socks, emptied. Kenward was unsteady on his feet, but he did stand, and that relieved much of Sinjin's worry.

  As they approached, Jehregard lowered a wing, allowing Onin to dismount. Sinjin was surprised to see Thundegar Rheams as well.

  "You gave me quite a start," Kenward said to Onin as Sinjin and Kendra approached.

  "Are you all right?" Kendra asked.

  "Onin's dragon nearly scared the wind out of me," Kenward said with an accusing glance at Jehregard.

  "You have my apologies," Onin said. "If someone would lend me a sledgehammer, I'll make sure he's aware of my displeasure."

  "A sledgehammer?" Kendra asked.

  "The great brute won't feel anything less, and I want him to know just how much I appreciate him bringing me here against my will. And what, if I may ask, are all of you doing here?"

  "We were summoned," Sinjin said. Onin noticed him for the first time, a confused look crossing his gnarled visage. "Trinda sang and summoned the regal dragons. It would appear Jehregard also answered the call."

  "Regardless," Onin said, "I will greatly reward the person who brings me a sledgehammer."

  Sinjin reminded himself not to cross Onin.

  For a moment, silence fell over them, and Sinjin was momentarily overwhelmed by the strangeness of it all. He wondered if he were dreaming since none of this could really be happening to him. Moments later, the feeling grew.

  Without warning, Trinda spoke, "Welcome, Onin of the old guard. Welcome, Jehregard."

  Onin opened his mouth to say something, but Jehregard, whose head loomed just behind Onin, issued a deafening bellow directed at Trinda. Onin's hair--beard, braids, beads, and all--danced in the wind of his dragon's roar.


  Holding his ears, Onin turned around and glared at his dragon.

  When Onin did speak, he shouted far more loudly than needed. "Why have you summoned us?"

  "I need your help," Trinda said.

  "You've got a funny way of asking for favors," Onin shouted. "Can I expect to be compensated for this effort and the inconvenience?"

  Sinjin was surprised by Onin's words, having expected him to take Trinda to task.

  "What compensation do you require?" Trinda asked as if intrigued.

  "For starters," Onin said, "I need a sledgehammer."

  * * *

  Sinjin was conflicted about the stone throne finally finding its way into its rightful place, the place his mother had intended to put it when she commissioned the stone chairs years before. Like many of the things taking place within Dragonhold, they were things his mother had strived for, yet they hadn't been completed until after Trinda took control. Sinjin heard speculation Dragonhold was better off under Trinda's leadership than under his mother's control. He couldn't help but resent it. His mother had worked for years to convince people to return Dragonhold to its former glory, and it was only after the accidental discovery of the hold's ability to reconfigure itself that Trinda was able to do what she had done, however remarkable it might be. Sinjin wondered what his mother would have accomplished given access to the entire hold.

  He had to take a moment to shake his head. If not for his best friend's laziness, the hold might have remained forever divided. Again, Sinjin wondered if he were dreaming. When the second throne was finally resting in its permanent home, he had to admit the place was now. . . right. There was symmetry and balance. His mother had taught him how important each of those were.

  Trinda cast him a coy smile, no doubt proud of once again fulfilling his mother's ambitions. Then, though, she gazed out the stone portal to the skies beyond. After sucking in a deep breath, she ran from the room. Her guards struggled to keep up.

  Sinjin and Kendra ran behind, joined by Martik and Chase, who'd orchestrated the stone chair's placement.

  "Stick with me if things go badly," Chase said.

  "Or with me," Martik said. "Either of us should have a chance at getting you to a safe place."

  "What's Trinda playing at?" Sinjin asked his uncle.

  Chase just shook his head. "Wish I knew," he said. "I'm starting to wish I'd taken one of the opportunities I've had to leave this place. I've got a really bad feeling."

  This made Sinjin feel even worse. No one asked any more questions.

  When they neared the great hall, Chase signaled them to slow. He sneaked to the corner, peeking around. He just stood there, frozen, not giving any indication of what he saw. When Sinjin and Kendra walked up to join him, he jumped.

  "I think we should try to get out of the hold. Now," he said, and he pushed them back.

  "What is it?" Sinjin asked. "What's happening?"

  Chase continued to push him back, but Sinjin was no longer a child. If he didn't want to go back, then he would not. The look on his uncle's face surprised him when he resisted. The older man just nodded and let him go. Where Sinjin went, so went Kendra.

  Slowly he poked his head around the corner. Jehregard had moved deep into the great hall and was the first thing to grab Sinjin's attention. Toward the far end of the hall, Trinda, stood alone before the Serpent, her arms spread wide, holding two objects. Immediately he recognized the Staff of Life. From the distance, he couldn't be certain it was Koe she held in her other hand, but he surmised it was so.

  Perched atop the Serpent and crushing her under its weight was a nightmare made flesh. A maturing feral queen lashed the air with her tail in clear agitation. Sinjin knew animals, and this one was ready to shred anything that came close. He couldn't really blame it. Though ferals had been his enemy, this dragon had not come of its own volition, nor did those atop her. Dressed in black and wielding a staff of dark swamp root that glistened under a polished sheen, Allette Kilbor watched Trinda with deadly intent. Before her, the cloud cat dug its claws deeper into wooden panels built into the otherwise dragon-leather saddle.

  The dragon hide offended Sinjin's sensibilities. Along with a host of other reasons, he was starting to think Chase was right. When he turned to leave, though, Kendra grabbed his arm.

  "Wait," she said.

  Torn, Sinjin decided to trust his wife's instincts. She'd been right before, and he also knew knocking her out would be the only other way to pull her away from something she'd decided she wanted to see.

  "Why have you brought me here?" Allette demanded, her dragon's tail still twitching.

  "I need your help," Trinda said.

  "And why would I want to help you?" Allette asked.

  "Because I am not your enemy," Trinda said.

  "I recall differently," Allette said. Trinda's forces and herald globes had turned the tide of the Jaga War.

  "You have not attacked us, and we have not attacked you," Trinda continued. "There has been peace."

  "Until now," Allette said.

  This was almost enough to convince Sinjin to drag Kendra from Dragonhold. Things were about to get ugly.

  The feral queen shifted her weight, and the Serpent groaned beneath her. Timbers snapped and the sound was almost physically painful; Sinjin knew how much Kenward loved his ships, and though Sinjin had sworn never to board the Serpent, he felt a certain attachment to her.

  "Whatever you two are going to do," Sinjin heard Kenward shout. "Leave my ship out of it!"

  "Silence!" Trinda demanded, ringing the flagstone with Sinjin's staff, the same staff his mother had once guarded and Nat Dersinger's family before her. A frost ring radiated from the staff, stunning those around Trinda and striking the feral queen in the muzzle. The dark creature responded with a furious bellow.

  The following events were instantly burned into Sinjin's memory. Kenward and his crew fled the Serpent. Timbers snapped when the feral queen launched herself. Hovering in the air above the child queen, who was dressed all in white, Allette and her dragon resembled death incarnate.

  The feral queen snapped at Trinda. The girl hurled a fist of lightning to intercept the approaching dragon's muzzle. The two connected with a sizzling pop that left the air smoking. The feral queen reared, and Allette stood tall in the saddle. Leveling her inky black staff at Trinda, she sent forth black flames in a gushing font that stained whatever they touched. Trinda cast up a defensive shield, her power magnified by Koe and the Staff of Life. Dark flames washed over it on a raging torrent. Her energy shield still held around her, the child queen retreated, disappearing into the halls leading to the kitchens.

  The feral queen settled herself on the overlarge throne. Now it was small and fragile under the weight of Allette's dragon. Sinjin stepped out and waved to Kenward and his crew. Once Kenward had spotted them and waved back, Sinjin turned to Kendra. He opened his mouth to speak, but the roar of the feral queen filled the hall. Jehregard responded with a deep bellow that vibrated the stone, and even the regal dragons trumpeted from the darkness above. Hearing Valterius made Sinjin want to cry. How in the world were they going to get their dragons out of here?

  In the next instant, the question was irrelevant. Pointing her black staff at the gates, Allette issued a blast of darkness. The crossbar keeping the towering gates closed shattered. Slowly the massive timbers swung inward. Feral dragons flooded the hall. With them came twisted demons like those that had plagued the Godfist in the past, and Sinjin felt sick. The feeling grew worse when screams came from the God's Eye.

  Chapter 13

  To bend the wind is to hold hands with the gods.

  --Pelivor, flightmaster

  * * *

  There was nowhere to run. Sinjin considered their options, none of them good. If Allette's forces were outside the hold, then fleeing would put them in greater danger. Allette stood between them and the tunnels leading to much of the hold. The God's Eye stood in the way of the only other route Sinjin knew of to gain the
interior of Dragonhold. Staying near Valterius, the other regals, and Jehregard was a far safer thing to do.

  Allette and the feral queen cleared most of the main hall, and demons made their way toward where Onin, Thundegar Rheams, and Jehregard stood. Thundegar had known the girl; he'd been a father figure to her at a critical time in her life, but when the man started walking toward her, Sinjin feared for his life.

  "What in the world just happened?" Kendra asked in a low voice, still stunned over Trinda's retreat and Allette's sudden taking of the outer hold.

  "We're in trouble," Sinjin replied.

  There was no more time for talking. Thundegar had come face-to-face with one of Allette's demons, and the monstrous, twisted creature brought up a heavy maul with black metal studs, and a mere heartbeat before it brought down the weapon with the full force of its might, Allette spoke. "No." With her staff, she pointed at the demon, and it dropped its weapon before falling to its armored knees. There it remained. Those who had been approaching slowed then stopped.

  "You have just come very close to death," Allette said. "Do not test me. I'm not the girl you knew. I am the Black Queen, ruler of the Jaga, and you will bow before me."

  "I do not fear death . . . nor you," Thundegar said. "And I bow before no one. Nor should you or anyone else for that matter."

  The feral queen lashed the air with her tail and coiled her serpentine neck all while moving closer to where Thundegar stood. Standing in her saddle, the Black Queen loomed over Thundegar. Perhaps she would have killed him then, but Rastas intervened. After struggling a moment to free his claws from the wood blocks he used to secure himself, the cloud cat took three long strides and leaped off the front of the feral queen's angular snout before the dragon had the chance to react. The dragon didn't appear to appreciate it and snapped at Rastas's tail. The cat Thundegar had raised charged toward him at a full run, never slowing. Just before he reached Thundegar, who braced himself on his cane, the cloud cat leaped, sending his considerable girth into Thundegar's chest, knocking him down.

  The stone rushed up to meet Thundegar, air bursting from his lungs when he struck. Even as Thundegar struggled to regain his breath, the big cat rubbed his face along Thundegar's torso; then he was attacking the man's boots; after grabbing one boot and weaving his head back and forth like the great goofball he was, the cat actually coaxed a laugh from Thundegar. He rubbed his old friend between the ears, as he hadn't been able to do for so long. "Crazy cat," he said.

 

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