After wrapping around the dragon numerous times, the chain ran across the ground and toward the front of the cave to a stake much different from the others. It glowed a stronger green, and it was green itself with a spiral pattern that reminded her of—
Zenia looked over her shoulder to where Eysinor stood in the sun, watching from a position near the hut. The horn on her forehead was nearly identical to the one staked in the ground, though hers was purple and this one was green.
It belonged to my mother, Eysinor spoke into her mind, meeting Zenia’s eyes for the first time since the betrayal. The orcs had a legend that the power of a unicorn’s horn, if blessed before their gods in an appropriate ceremony, would prove to be as great as that of a young dragon that hadn’t yet come fully into its power. She nodded toward the chained prisoner.
The dragon barely moved as she lay under the chains, the horn’s magic somehow drawing hers away and rendering her raw strength useless. She could lift her head on its long sinewy neck, but only enough to drink from a nearby water barrel. And only enough to eat. Whenever the orcs deigned to feed her. Broken bones lay scattered under her head, the meat long since cleaned off them. Many had been broken, their marrow licked out.
The dragon’s nostrils flared as she caught the scent of newcomers.
Zenia swallowed, haunted by the glazed look in her green eyes—and the utter lack of recognition there.
How did they capture your mother? Zenia asked, hoping Eysinor was still listening. And separate her from her horn?
She was old and her natural end grew near. She knew this and, as is the way of our kind, went out into the meadows beneath the stars to grant her life to the creator. But the orcs found her first and took advantage. They had been looking a long time for a unicorn separated from its herd… for they had found a dragon hatchling, one of only a few to be born in recent centuries. They believed their time had come.
Time for what? Zenia watched as the dragon’s nostrils twitched, and her head lifted. With interest? Her maw parted slightly, revealing long white teeth that made the orcs’ tusks look like pins.
“Hello, girl,” Zenia said, her voice cracking. She wished she’d learned the dragon’s name. Or thought to give her a name. “It’s Zenia. We’ve been working together for a while. Do you recognize me?”
A few orcs snickered, and one prodded her. He also prodded Jev, forcing him to step up beside Zenia. He took a deep breath, and she could see him marshaling his willpower to walk in ahead of her, to sacrifice himself first.
She shifted to the side, using her hip and body to block him. She would go first. And hope she didn’t get eaten.
Protest flared in his eyes, but Eysinor spoke again, and Zenia barely noted it.
Instead of answering her earlier question, Eysinor said, They captured my mother and cut off her horn. They knew the legends and that its power would remain long after her death. There is a reason why trolls and orcs sometimes make magical artifacts from our horns if we are careless and let the dead remain where they may be found. But if the horn is separated from the unicorn, he or she cannot travel to Shakayra. Their spirit remains in limbo, neither here nor there, and they can never find rest. The elves and dwarves know this, and do not steal our horns, but orcs like these care nothing for our kind and our ways.
Then why help them? Zenia asked in frustration, taking slow steps toward the dragon. She sensed that the orcs wanted her to move faster and were impatient to see her eaten.
Not by choice. I had to free my mother’s spirit. The shaman has promised to return the horn once he is certain the dragon tear will give him full power over the dragon.
Zenia had drawn even with the horn and paused to look down at it. Can’t you jump in here, use your magic to knock them away, and grab it yourself?
I tried. Sadness crept into the unicorn’s thoughts. In that state, with only her horn remaining, my mother’s spirit did not recognize me and did not help. And I could not figure out how to thwart the shaman’s spell. He has learned of the ancient powers, the ancient ways of his people, and my power was not sufficient to break his hold.
The dragon’s maw inched closer to Zenia. Moisture glistened on her massive fangs. Saliva? Little bits dripped to the stone floor of the cave.
Two orcs with swords were right behind Zenia, but she had to try something. She feared the dragon couldn’t recognize her.
Hoping vainly that it would work, she lunged to the side, toward the horn thrust into the ground. With her hands bound behind her, she couldn’t grab it, but she kicked at it with all her strength, trying to knock it free. Hoping that doing so would break the bonds holding the dragon. If she was free, maybe she would eat the orcs instead of Zenia.
But she might as well have kicked a steel post. The horn didn’t so much as quiver, and all she did was send pain charging up her leg.
The orcs threw their heads back and roared with laughter.
As I said, I tried to break its magic, the unicorn spoke sadly into her mind.
Well, try again, damn it.
The dragon’s maw came so close that her breath washed over Zenia’s face, hot and fetid. Zenia couldn’t keep from trying to squirm away, to escape her as her jaw opened wide, preparing to take a bite.
Orcs gripped her, pushing her forward. Jev flung himself at them, shouldering and biting and kicking. He delayed the inevitable, and Zenia was able to scoot back, just out of range of the dragon’s fangs, but there were far too many orcs. They pummeled him and drove him to his knees.
“That one’s volunteering to become dinner first,” the Korvish-speaking orc said, pointing a sword at Jev.
The shaman opened his mouth to speak but paused and whirled toward the lake. Zenia glimpsed something wet and scaled out there, glistening in the sun.
“The hydra,” Jev blurted, trying to shoulder his captors away and rise to his feet.
The orcs murmured and stirred uneasily. There wasn’t any fire around now.
A head appeared on a long sinewy neck. Zenia wouldn’t have guessed the hydra could reach them up here, but a second head came into view, also waving on its long neck. This hydra appeared to be even larger than the one that had attacked their steamer.
The shaman yelled something in his own language, and the orcs faced the creature, raising their weapons in defensive postures.
Zenia looked at Eysinor. Was she compelling it to attack? Who else would have the power to call up the hydra?
But the unicorn’s head was tilted curiously, and she took several steps back, deeper inside the cave.
One of the heads darted in faster than a cobra’s strike. Fangs snapped. Several of the orcs stumbled over each other as they sprang back. One of them wasn’t fast enough. The hydra chomped onto him, huge fangs sinking into his body, and jerked him from his feet. A sword clattered to the floor of the cave.
It was the orc who had been tormenting the dragon all these months. Zenia couldn’t help it. She let out a whoop, a cheer for the hydra and whoever was commanding it.
“Zenia,” Jev whispered harshly.
She thought he was reprimanding her, but he only wanted her attention. The orcs were firing at the hydra from the front of the cave, and the shaman had lifted his hands and was chanting some spell. Nobody was paying attention to them. Even the dragon’s dull gaze was focused on the hydra. More heads had risen up from the lake, and they lunged toward the cave, snapping for targets.
Jev knelt next to the embedded horn, angling his back to it. “Help me,” he added urgently.
He scooted closer until the ropes binding his wrists touched it. She realized he hoped the horn was sharp and he could use it to cut his way free.
The horn flared, its green glow brightening, and Jev winced in pain and rolled away.
“That doesn’t work,” he panted, flexing his fingers.
But it was a good idea. If they could find something else sharp, the orcs would be too distracted to notice. Then Zenia could do something, like snatch the dragon te
ar back from that odious shaman.
She spun, searching for inspiration, and stared straight into the eyes of the dragon. Her neck was stretched as far as possible with the chains binding her, and her huge maw and face were only a foot away. The nostrils twitched, sniffing. If only Zenia’s scent would tell her something. Or her words or voice.
Through the dragon tear, they had communicated with images. But without the gem, she didn’t know if that was possible. Were dragons telepathic, the same way the unicorn was?
As Zenia gazed into the dragon’s eyes, trying not to quail in fear at how close those glistening fangs were, she imagined her room in the Alderoth Castle, then the city, then Dharrow Castle. She thought of all the places she had been with the dragon tear, places the dragon herself might remember. As those eyes gazed at her, still without recognition, Zenia added an image of Fremia and her zyndari friend and their clothes going up in flame.
Maybe it was her imagination, but something seemed to glint in those reptilian eyes. The first hint of recognition?
“Yes,” Zenia whispered, “it’s me.”
Shouts continued to come from the mouth of the cave, interspersed with pistols firing and bows twanging. Jaws snapped as one of the heads came in again, angling for another orc.
Zenia forced herself to ignore it all and keep her gaze locked to the dragon. She envisioned herself turning around and using one of those long fangs as a razor to cut her bonds. She didn’t know if the tooth would be sharp enough. Even if it was, would the dragon stay still and let her do it?
That was the true question. Zenia bit her lip, turned, and backed slowly toward that massive maw. This might be a young dragon, but she was still huge compared to a human.
Jev was right behind her, and his jaw dangled open as he watched her backing toward the fangs.
“Trust me,” she mouthed to him, even as she once again envisioned using a dragon fang for a razor. It would be even better if the dragon would incinerate the ropes as she’d incinerated numerous women’s dresses, but Zenia doubted she had access to her magic. Somehow, the magic of the unicorn horn nullified hers.
She bumped against one of those fangs and resisted the urge to spring away. Jev crouched, as if he would jump in and knock her away.
The dragon did not move. Zenia found the right angle and rubbed her bindings against the fang.
The rope fell away so quickly it startled her. She nicked her skin too and realized how incredibly sharp those fangs were.
She stepped away, careful not to make any sudden movements, because she wasn’t yet certain the dragon knew who she was. She waved for Jev to come close and replicate her move. He hesitated, probably thinking she was crazy. Or suicidal. Or both.
Zenia held up her wrists, the rope in shreds on the floor below her.
“Right,” he muttered, the word barely audible over the chaos at the entrance.
As he edged closer, turning his back and wrists toward the dragon, Zenia searched for the shaman. He stood at the cave mouth, his hands glowing with fiery orange power as he faced the hydra. Now, six heads writhed in the air out there.
The hydra was undeterred by the orcs’ attacks with pistols, but as others fired arrows, the shaman sent his magic out to engulf the arrowheads. They burst into flame before they sank into the hydra’s necks and heads. Some sped by uselessly, missing their marks, but others found flesh and scale. The flames made the creature shriek like no other attack had.
But the hydra did not back away. The heads snapped down and ripped out the arrows, flinging them into the lake far below.
“Free.” Jev held up his wrists, grimacing at the dragon saliva running down his forearms.
“Watch my back,” Zenia whispered and pointed at the shaman.
“With what?” Jev shook his wrists and gave her an exasperated look.
“Your love and adoration,” she blurted and sneaked toward her target.
“I’d rather use a rifle,” he muttered, but he stuck close, and Zenia knew he would spring at anyone who attacked her.
With her eyes locked on the shaman, she wasn’t expecting the unicorn to step into her way.
You will not ruin this, Eysinor said into Zenia’s mind. Only the shaman can remove the horn and release my mother’s spirit to the afterworld.
Frustration surged into Zenia’s heart. She edged forward, searching for a way around Eysinor. The shaman was distracted. This was her chance.
“I just want the dragon tear, not to kill him,” Zenia said. “He can still pull out the horn.”
He will not if he loses control of the dragon. Eysinor lowered her horn like a lance and pointed it at Zenia’s chest. You may not pass.
17
Jev stared at the sharp unicorn horn pointed at Zenia’s chest. She’d told him to watch her back, but it was her front that was in danger.
He didn’t think Eysinor wanted to prong her but sensed that the creature would. He clenched his jaw. Not while he was watching.
“The unicorn is trying to free the dragon,” he yelled at the top of his lungs, hoping enough orcs understood his language to cause the riot he wanted.
Several of the orcs, busy with defending themselves from the hydra, didn’t glance back, but several others spun around. Someone shouted what might have been a war cry and ran toward Eysinor, a sword raised. Others sprang toward her with clubs.
Eysinor was forced to turn away from Zenia in order to defend herself. Her horn glowed a fierce purple, and magical power blasted into the orcs. They stumbled back, but Zenia had the seconds she needed to run behind Eysinor and out the other side.
One of the orcs that had been blasted pointed from Eysinor to the hydra and yelled what sounded like an accusation. Eysinor tried to turn toward Zenia again, but Jev jumped into her path, forcing her to step aside. He hoped she wouldn’t prong him with that horn, because he’d already felt the magical bite of the one embedded in the ground.
Chains rattled several feet away, and something between a growl and a screech echoed from the cave walls. The unicorn and several orcs glanced at the dragon. She had gathered her feet under her, leg muscles bunching as she fought the chain. The magical glow around the links grew brighter, and she had no luck escaping, but at least she was distracting.
Zenia was only a few steps from the shaman. Jev rushed to catch up with her. She was about to lunge in and try to snatch the dragon tear from his chest, but he must have sensed her approach. He whirled about, his hands still glowing with flames, as if he were covered in pitch and on fire himself.
He lunged for Zenia. She had enough time to skitter back, but Jev sprang anyway, terrified the shaman would use his magic to extend his reach. Their enemy was focused on Zenia and seemed startled when Jev slammed into him. Jev wrapped his arms around the big orc and hooked a leg behind his knee, trying to take him down with a wrestling move.
It didn’t work as envisioned, since the orc must have weighed three hundred pounds, but he did let out a startled grunt and stumbled back. Jev took advantage of his opponent’s surprise and slammed him against the hard wall of the cave. He was aware of one of the hydra’s heads swooping toward them, but he dared not lose his momentum. He drew back and slammed the orc against the wall again.
Zenia appeared at his shoulder, and Jev started to shout a warning for her to stay back, but her hand darted in, and she clasped the dragon tear. Jev tightened his grip on the shaman, afraid he would lash out at her.
The orc roared and shoved Jev, ramming a knee toward his groin. Jev twisted out of the way the best he could, but the shaman dislodged him and shoved him back.
Zenia yanked at the dragon tear, but the repaired chain didn’t break. She half climbed the shaman in her effort to tear it from his head. He yelled and raised his hands, the flames around them intensifying.
Jev crouched to leap back into the fray, but a shadow fell across the shaman from the side. The hydra. One of the heads lunged into the cave, turning so it could snap its maw around the orc’s torso. Fang
s sank in, and the shaman screamed.
Zenia tumbled back onto her butt as the hydra pulled the shaman off his feet and yanked him out of the cave. Those fangs sank in, grinding back and forth, and the orc screamed and screamed as he was pulled out over the lake. Over it and then into it.
Jev gaped. The hydra hadn’t done that with any of the other orcs. It had simply flung them into the water and returned for different targets.
He cursed, realizing that it, or whoever controlled it, might have started all this because of the dragon tear. Maybe the hydra had been commanded to get to the shaman because he had it. Or did he?
“Did you get it?” Jev sprang to Zenia’s side and pulled her to her feet.
If she hadn’t, they might have just lost it to the bottom of the lake—or whoever the hydra had been ordered to deliver it to.
Zenia smiled fiercely and held up her fist. The chain dangled from one side. Jev trusted she gripped the dragon tear inside.
No! Eysinor cried into their minds, the syllable drawn out and filled with anguish. He was the only one who could free her.
Jev turned, fearing the unicorn would run Zenia through with her horn, but the unicorn slumped, her head to the floor.
A clanging came from a bell somewhere in the valley. Jev had a feeling someone realized their revered shaman had been eaten.
“You!” one of the orcs roared, spinning toward Zenia and Jev, rage contorting his face.
All of the orcs wore expressions like that. The hydra must not have realized it hadn’t gotten the dragon tear, because it had stopped attacking. Four heads hovered outside on their long necks, but they seemed to be waiting for something.
“Can you free the dragon now?” Jev asked Zenia hopefully. “Or at least summon the power to stop them?”
He looked at Zenia’s fist, hoping to see the blazing blue glow he’d witnessed before when the dragon tear was about to unleash its magic.
“She’s still afraid of them.” Zenia backed to the wall as the orcs stalked closer, their swords raised.
Agents of the Crown- The Complete Series Page 130
