Dragon's Siege

by Daniel Potter

  A hand went up, a hooded woman, her face nearly entirely obscured by pink flower petals.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m called Orchid, ma’am,” the woman said. “I recognize these mountains. There is a Yokoyama crystal grove not far from here. I used to work there.”

  “They’ll have medical crystals?” Ishe asked.

  “Among many others.” The pink of her petals grew brighter.

  Yaki stood. “We go.”

  “Everyone who’s uninjured, on your feet. Nobody gets healed sitting around here.” Ishe sharpened her tone and the sailors started to move. A grin spread over her face. A start; this would be the start of it.

  Chapter Two

  For a species that is devoid of parental instinct as dragons it is surprising that they are preoccupied with breeding and the pursuit of it. Courtships spanning centuries are common.

  Rictus Hana, author of The Great Wyrm, the Known History

  Yaz’noth bit back a groan of pleasure as the taste of the delicious steel washed across the inner walls of his forge. Valhallans made excellent iron. The Odin Sphere’s armor consisted of a core of iron sandwiched between steel plates, sharpening the flavor to an exquisite edge with a sulfuric spice. He would have to conquer Valhalla for the forges alone. It made him almost reconsider the order of planned conquest in his head. Golden Hills would be first, then Lyndon, and finally, the completely isolated Valhalla would crumple.

  Ironically, neither Valhalla nor Lyndon might realize the dependence they both had on Golden Hills’ agriculture. Neither were in regions that were well suited for crops. Valhalla’s winters were long, and Lyndon’s soil frequently became dust. Managed as they were by private traders and noble families, Yaz’noth doubted the ruling classes totally understood their economic positions.

  Yaz’noth figured that wiping out their trading fleets would have the residents of both city-states begging him to conquer their city if he brought them food.

  He pondered this as he had often done over the last century or so. Smash one city-state, hopefully without damaging it too badly. Give it a year to convince the majority of the populace that they’re better off working with you rather than against you.

  He reviewed the plans in his head.

  There would only be this one chance. Airships were getting bigger, and Yaz’noth couldn’t cram any more power crystals into his second stomach. Humans were good at adapting if given time. Dragons had to follow suit; if the trends continued like this, dragons would be extinct within another century or two. As far as he knew, only four ancients still survived on the Continent: the White Queen, the great fire lizard of the north, the emerald drake of the far jungle, and himself.

  While his trading ships often inquired as to dragon sightings, fledglings of even Spine’s size were rare. There were about six young dragons lairing in different locations, and most seemed to have learned to leave cargo ships alone. The last youth that Yaz’noth had known that made a habit of attacking ships had been killed three years ago. More the pity, he had been nearly Hammer’s age. Just starting to get a clue.

  More numerous were the land dragons. If a whelping didn’t get enough of their favored metals, they lost their wings and spent their days digging through the Spine, looking for raw ore. Such was the fate of most hatchlings in his mountain. Silver, iron, and copper were the metals found there; anything else and you had to make do eating rocks and the occasional treats from pirate raids. Sometimes, he pitied his progeny who would live their lives as little more than talking beasts of burden, but one of the first lessons he had learned in his own battles was that you had to take what you could. Waiting for generosity, whether it be human or draconic, wouldn’t get you anywhere. Humans were both maddeningly rational and dogmatic at the same time about this.

  Yaz’noth took another bite and ripped the armor plating in two with a musical screech of ripping metal.

  “My lord!” One of his humans was waving at him to get his attention. Two talons decorated her shoulder. Yaz’noth hoped this would be good news. Working his jaw, he rolled the plate into a cylinder and swallowed it down. It hit his food stomach and added to the lovely weight. This had definitely been worth walking across the valley.

  “Yes?” he drawled imperiously. “Do you have good news?” The last news he had received was that that there had been some sort of vicious fight among the Two Herds Tribe. The two herds were now one herd, apparently with the other half of the tribe disappearing into the valley’s foliage to plot his demise. Led by somebody calling himself Stag, the One Who Shatters Iron. All the more reason to move on from this valley. Yet it would be at least another week for his wing to heal entirely. Years before the scales on his belly were as strong and thick as before he decided to lie down on a bomb, but he couldn’t wait that long. He’d have to forge a replacement. That sounded ridiculous, of course. A dragon wearing armor. But the more Yaz’noth thought about it, the less crazy it sounded. Poor stupid Spine could certainly use some. Yaz’noth would miss the little dragon’s exuberance, even if he was the single most annoying hatchling. Spine would be lucky to walk in six months, let alone fly in a year or two. Without a family of humans caring for him, he would have starved to death from his injuries.

  Yaz’noth realized that the person had finished speaking and he had been lost in thought. Injuries did that to him. Made him prone to thoughtful dazes as he attempted to figure out where he’d gone wrong.

  “Repeat that,” Yaz’noth said quietly.

  “Uh, yes.” The man swallowed. “Guro is on his way back with the quicksilver, but Scale has been lost as predicted.”

  At least the steel is good. Once Ishe had been lost, Yaz’noth had seen to it that the contingency plan had been set into motion. Particularly when Guro reported that Yaki had begun to recruit more local talent who were interested in more than money. “And Yaki?”

  “Alive when Guro left, although probably in the custody of the Golden Hills navy. Along with her sister.”

  Yaz’noth’s head turned sharply. “Ishe made it already?”

  “Her arrival was what distracted Yaki and her crew long enough to allow Captain Guro to make his own escape.” He bowed.

  “Hrrrm.” Yaz’noth tapped his claws on a boulder thoughtfully. “Any word of Hammer and Miss Cog?”

  “None, sir. Guro’s hiding in a grove until sundown. The skiff is not made for open travel, and it could be a day or two before he reaches us. It will depend on the wind.”

  “Don’t say that too loudly,” Yaz’noth grumbled, giving in to the thread of worry for Hammer and Cog. The quicksilver wasn’t out of the woods, either. And Yaki herself would be entirely beyond his reach until they took the city. A smile quirked the corners of his muzzle as he savored the irony it would be if he were the one to liberate both sisters from the dungeons of Golden Hills.

  He looked up at the dock outside his lair, then stretched out his injured wing that a half dozen nurses had spent an afternoon sewing together with iron wire that Yaz’noth had fabricated for the purpose. The stitching needed another day or so to set. He scowled at it. Quicksilver would fix this in seconds. Quicksilver would get Spine flying again. Enough of it would make the half dozen hatchings who were too stupid to dodge a cannon shot credible threats to any airship.

  “Tell Guro to head towards the staging area instead of coming home. We will meet him there.” Yaz’noth grabbed up a bit more of the steel plating before turning back toward the lair. He had some packing and fabrication to do.

  Chapter Three

  As you practice mastering your own face, always remember the fable of the mask maker. Do not wear false emotions so long that they become true.

  Madam Mana, Headmistress of the School of the Cultured Lady

  Yaki felt as if someone had inserted a red-hot rod through her eye and all the way to the back of her skull. Minus the burning bit that had been pretty close to what Mitsuo had done with that sword. That squish from inside her head would be etched into her memor
y. Yet the heart in her chest hadn’t skipped much more than a beat. Yet clearly, the quicksilver’s gift had cost. She’d been sucking on what gold she had grabbed all night, and her stomach roared for more.

  If she concentrated, she could feel something moving in her head, like a spider weaving web. Today, the sounds of the language she grew up with were even more distant than yesterday. She could still understand them but a took a second, converting them into draconic and back again. Yet important bits were missing in that tongue: no word for hope. A concept of future and past was strange. No might, simple will do and have done. Could dragons see the future? Ishe had wondered as she stared at the stars with this new part of her.

  Now, as she watched Ishe gather Simon and the uninjured Dragonsworn together, she felt usurped; they were her crew, they called her captain. Yet how good could a captain be if she had to write everything down? She watched Ishe talk to Orchid, asking her questions about the grove, letting the sounds of the conversation washing over her, not spending the effort to digest the words.

  “Yaki, you okay?” Gama was beside her. Gama hadn’t left her side since they’d set off in the little skiff, casting off after the second warning shot had ripped through the stormy sky. Together, she and Gama had directed the crew to slither under the belly of that Behemoth that had been sent to apprehend the Scale.

  She gripped Gama’s thigh, gave it a squeeze. Easier than finding the words and less of a lie. They had fled west to the edge of the Spine Mountains but far enough south to avoid setting down in a farmer’s terrace. The skiff sat nestled among the trees and hidden by cut branches down the slope.

  Heaving herself up, Gama in her shadow, Yaki went over to Sparrow. He offered her a smile through his bedraggled-looking whiskers, deep shadows under his eyes. “Don’t suppose this motley crew has tea.” Yaki gave a shake of her head.

  Blinky peered up as well and gave a tired but cheery chitter, the red crystals on his back flaring briefly. Sparrow nudged him. “Go find yourself breakfast, Blinky. I’ll be fine for an hour or two.”

  Blinky did not go hunting immediately; he scuttled forward woozily, chittering hopefully. Gama backed away as Yaki knelt to scratch him between the seams in his exoskeleton. He clicked approvingly and pressed close.

  “You really can’t talk, can you?” Sparrow frowned.

  “I can, but you can’t understand me,” Yaki said in her new language.

  He readjusted his glasses and then nodded. “I’m aware of curses like this; ran afoul of some nasty kami getting out of the city? I’ve heard that language before, back when I was in the university in Lyndon. A scholar showed off with it. Low Draconic? A human variation of the language dragons speak innately. Primary language of the Wyrm’s empire. Nothing else has that base growl to it. Hawk knows it.”

  Yaki jolted with surprise.

  “One of her gifts; languages come very easy to her.”

  “Where Hawk,” Yaki asked.

  Sparrow briefly explained Hawk’s condition. “I worry for her.” He coughed and spat.

  Blinky chittered in disapproval.

  “But I’m more worried about what she’ll do to me if I let this cough kill me. I’m going to head up into mountains a ways. That will help my lungs dry out.” He reached out and Yaki helped haul him to his feet.

  “You need someone with you up there?” Gama asked.

  “I’ll have Blinky.” He smiled.

  Blinky promptly hid behind Yaki’s legs.

  “Oh, really?” Sparrow put his hands on his hips.

  Blinky gave a little shiver and snaked a leg around Yaki’s ankles.

  “It’s not that cold up there,” he scolded. “And we’re not going to go rafting.”

  The spider didn’t budge, instead making a show of planting his eight feet on the ground.

  Sparrow rolled his eyes. “He’s still mad that we made him go swimming. Honestly, sometimes he’s more cat than spider.” He turned on his heel to go up the mountain. After five steps, Blinky’s resolve wavered; he took a few steps after the Low Rivers Tribesman. When Sparrow didn’t turn around, he heaved a sigh and hurried to catch up.

  Sparrow stopped to pet the ship spider who had no ship.

  “Raiju, go with him,” Gama said.

  “Wha?” Raiju had been watching the bustle of preparations as the crew gathered what they had in the way of arms and supplies. Of everyone, the Gama, Raiju and Chimon had the warmest clothes. He looked up at Sparrow’s backside and with a simple “yeah,” he set off toward the older man.

  Yaki’s stomach gurgled as she watched the three of them retreat up the mountain, but she resisted the urge to take out the last of the gold. Hopefully, they could liberate some at the Grove.

  Ishe seemed to be of the same mind, and within ten minutes, a raiding party had been organized.

  “You’re injured, Yaki,” Ishe groused after they had started moving.

  “Cap-tain,” Yaki said in response, and managed to add “Fine” while pointing at herself. Although it probably sounded more like Grine, Ishe seemed to understand.

  “I’m her second,” Gama said, squeezing himself between the sisters.

  “Second of what?” Ishe glared at him.

  “Uhh.”

  Yaki lade her hand on Gama’s shoulder and groped for a word. “Lit-eu” failed, and she went for the journal.

  “He’s your lieutenant. Got it. Don’t think that you out outrank me, Gama.” Ishe held up a closed fist, then peered around him. “And you still should stay behind. I got this.”

  Yaki shook her head. Nope. If she couldn’t speak, then she had to do.

  “And who are you and your brothers? What’s your story?” Ishe directed herself to Gama. “You’re not wearing a black cloak.”

  “Yaki saved my life, and I decided that filing paperwork wasn’t my path. I mean, I like lists; they keep life organized and tidy. But after meeting your sister, I didn’t want to take any path that didn’t include her. My stars follow hers now.” Gama stuck his chin out as if he expected her to challenge that.

  Ishe laughed, “Oh that’s a new one. Better than: My heart has a hole shaped to you, you cannot leave or I will bleed to death! Remember that one Yaki?”

  “Ishe!” Yaki hissed in rebuke.

  Gama colored a bit. “We’re friends.”

  Yaki could hear the for now. That little sparkle of hope in his voice for something more. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that she wanted it too. She felt ugly and dirty, and her head throbbed. Part of her ached to be held. He’d seen her breathe fire and never even asked her about it. But if she took his offer… What if there was another Mitsuo? Someone she had to love to get what she needed or, worse, get what her crew needed? Could she do that if she had a partner? A real partner? Would guilt make every smile look false? Would he really stand by and let her do what Mother had trained her to do? Or would he leave in a jealous huff? And men… You could never trust a man. He saw her as she had been, no visible marring on her face. He’d see her for a monster soon enough.

  Somewhat belatedly, she elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Uff,” he grunted. “What was that for?”

  Yaki forced a grin. Best to keep things as they were. Not think too hard about the future.

  “She doesn’t like your tone, lieutenant,” Ishe said. “Can’t be friends in front of the crew.” She laughed. “Although the crew watches who goes in and out of the captain’s cabin like gossiping gulls.”

  “Ishe!” Yaki warned her sister again.

  “Speaking of my own friends, Drosa needs some attention.”

  Yaki blinked and looked to the thin woman who had arrived with Ishe. Her hair had changed from black to golden blond with the sun’s rise.

  Chapter Four

  The purest, rarest of crystals will grow on their own, but most need encouragement in the form of very specialized environments. The process can still take years. The largest power crystals represent a decade of careful tending.
>
  Hon Nishamura, chief historian of the Steward’s archives

  “I understand words but it all nonsense,” Drosa responded after her hand found Ishe’s and held it tight. Her hair faded to black as warmth encased Ishe’s arms. “Eyah say most of your band not touched by spirits but stink of the other worlds. And now we go to a Grove? What is wrong with trees here? And what are lances? How will that hurt Yaz’noth?”

  “We’re going on a raid.” Ishe spent the next hour trying to explain new terms and concepts to her. She’d seen Yaz’noth take down the Odin Sphere, so that served as a starting point. She understood violence. Two herds had multiple settlements in the valley, but the biggest conflict between them was stealing goats from each other.

  Drosa never balked, although her questions got more confused as Ishe drifted into the politics. Eventually, as Ishe got deeper into the history, Drosa cut her off with a kiss. It stopped Ishe in her tracks. Warm and passionate, slow like a lazy summer day, Ishe found herself helpless to resist it. Only once everyone was looking at them did Drosa back away. “Thought your throat might need wetting after all that talking,” she said with a little laugh. “I see world through you; no need to explain all now. I learn.”

  It took a few steps for Ishe to figure out where she’d put her voice after that. “Probably shouldn’t do that on duty.”

  “But if I wait till dark night, then Eyah not get to kiss you,” Drosa said with her easy smile, her eyes drifting off to somewhere distant before she laughed again. “Eyah suggest you take off shirt again. Keep taint back in bones.”

  Ishe crossed her arms. “Really, now?”

  Reaching over, Drosa tugged at the shoulder of Ishe’s flight jacket. “No sleeves. Show arms to sun at least.”