by Den Patrick
How?
‘It’s no Ashen Blade,’ admitted Father Orlov, struggling to breathe. ‘It’s barely an echo of that blade.’
But enchanted all the same.
‘It belonged to Dimitri Sokolov.’ Orlov paused to draw down another wheezing breath. ‘The Emperor gave it to me should you turn traitor.’ He was about to say more when a sledgehammer flashed through the darkness, but Steiner’s strike went high and slammed into the black iron staircase above Father Orlov’s head. ‘Leave us now!’ bellowed the Vigilant, and Steiner dutifully turned away. Silverdust felt the enchantment break as Orlov’s attention turned to Steiner.
‘Time to finish this,’ said Father Orlov. He pulled the knife from Silverdust’s chest and held it before the Exarch’s throat.
I agree. The Exarch punched upwards with both fists, turning them into bright blades of fire, roaring with all the hatred and disgust of his long life. The fiery blades pierced Father Orlov’s chest, emerging from the man’s back in searing yellow. Silverdust stood up, arms raised high with Orlov screaming in agony above him. The Exarch wrenched his arms apart and the burned corpse fell to the floor in two pieces. Dimitri Sokolov’s enchanted blade clattered in the darkness.
Streig? I need you.
Silverdust slumped to his knees, largely on instinct. It had been a long time since he’d had legs to betray him. Strange what the human mind was capable of, even when denied the body.
‘Silverdust!’ cried Steiner, dropping to his knees and holding the Exarch’s hand.
Steiner. It is good to see you again. Your fame goes before you.
‘What was that?’ Steiner eyed the still-burning corpse of Father Orlov.
Father Orlov. It seems he trained at both Academy Vozdukha and Academy Voda. He used an enchantment on you. And on me.
‘Can you stand?’ Steiner picked up the dagger; it was polished to a bright gleam and looked brand new. ‘What happened?’
Father Orlov wounded me.
‘But cinderwraiths can’t be hurt by simple blades.’
Silverdust knew he had worked out the truth of it, but Steiner clung to the denial all the same.
This is not a mundane blade, Steiner. The Emperor gave it to Orlov specifically to kill me.
‘But how did the Emperor know you’re a cinderwraith?’
It seems I said too much at the Imperial Court. The Emperor must have guessed my secret.
‘Oh no,’ said a woman’s voice in the darkness. Steiner’s companion approached with Streig close behind. She was a pretty, tear-stained girl and Silverdust could feel waves of concern emanating from her.
And who is this?
‘I’m Kristofine.’ She knelt down beside Steiner. ‘Thank you for saving us. When the Vigilant spoke I was powerless, I couldn’t …’ She held one hand to her mouth, the words too frightening to say, even with Orlov dead.
You have done well, Streig.
The soldier nodded but said nothing. Flames continued to flicker and dance on the books and shelves until Silverdust extinguished them with a thought and a gesture. The black iron staircase gave a groan and crashed down among the shelves, sending up a great cloud of ash and burned pages.
‘I didn’t think I hit it that hard,’ said Steiner. He coughed and looked embarrassed. Sounds of fighting were close at hand and Kristofine took the shining blade from Steiner.
‘I swear to Frejna,’ said Streig, ‘I will murder everyone who comes this way.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,’ said Kristofine. ‘We have to move. Silverdust, can you stand?’
I fear Father Orlov’s parting gift may be permanent. He touched fingers to the tear in his vestments where the blade had pierced his chest. There was no pain, for the Exarch’s body had long since passed, but a feeling of terrible dread suffused him. A tendril of soot-dark smoke emerged from the wound and trailed into the air before dissipating.
‘No, dammit, no!’ Steiner seized the Exarch by his shoulders and held him close.
I do not have long left, Steiner. It is of paramount importance that you leave the island. Go now. Please. You promised Kimi to lead an uprising. Fulfil that promise.
‘We can’t just leave him here,’ said Kristofine. ‘Come on, Silverface! Get on your feet.’ For a moment the Exarch wanted to correct her, then thought better of it. Silverdust found himself pulled upright and carried through the library. Streig put an arm around his shoulders.
‘I’m not leaving you here,’ said the young soldier, his mouth a flat line, jaw clenched.
My friend … Silverdust lost his train of thought as another wisp of soot escaped from the wound in his chest.
‘Fall back to the centre!’ The voice was unmistakably Felgenhauer, loud enough to carry from somewhere else in the library. She marched out of the darkness, and though she wore no mask Silverdust knew who stood before him. The former Matriarch-Commissar looked at the Exarch, saw his vestments battered and burned, saw the cinderwraith beneath and the way he pressed a hand to his chest.
You are speechless for once, Felgenhauer.
‘You have a lot of questions to answer, Exarch, but now isn’t the time.’
A handful of soldiers emerged from the gloom, battered yet resolute.
‘Things are bad.’ Silverdust recognised the man from Vladibogdan, a sergeant called Tomasz. ‘Many have fallen and a few more are lost among the stacks.’
Another soldier stumbled around the corner of a bookshelf and the others turned against him, hefting their axes. It was the lieutenant from Khlystburg.
He is with me. Silverdust reached out for the man. What is your name, lieutenant?
‘I’m Reka.’ He paused a moment to look over the faces of the wanted rebels. ‘I guess I know which side I’m on. What happens now?’
‘We head to the docks,’ said Steiner. ‘It’s the only way off the island.’
‘And how will we get down from the fourth floor?’ said Streig. ‘This place is crawling with soldiers, and the Envoy is here somewhere.’
‘Leave her to me,’ said Felgenhauer. ‘Come on.’
‘Wait!’ said Steiner, looking upwards. ‘What’s happening?’ The plaster flaked off the ceiling above them, then fell away in great chunks. It sounded as if the building were shaking itself apart. The circular gap where the spiral staircase had met the floor above began to split and crack. Something dark was trying to force its way through.
‘Look out,’ shouted Felgenhauer. She sent up a great wall of force that shielded them from a rain of smashed timber, shattered plaster and falling books. It took several moments for everyone to recover. All eyes turned to the ragged hole in the ceiling in the shocked silence that followed.
‘Frøya save us,’ whispered Kristofine.
‘Look at the size of him,’ whispered Steiner.
I did tell you I was a dragon. Bittervinge’s words appeared in their minds like golden chimes. He had resorted to telepathy, for his mouth could no longer produce human sounds. His great snout dipped into the room from the floor above, followed by his wedge-shaped head and long sinuous neck. The father of dragons was covered in black scales that gleamed like polished obsidian, while his horns and claws were purest ivory. Black lips peeled back from pale teeth, each as long as Steiner’s thigh. Sitting on Bittervinge’s neck, holding onto his horns to support herself, was Envoy de Vries. She smiled triumphantly.
‘The Emperor said I could use all means at my disposal to destroy you, Steiner. And seeing as I am so outnumbered’ – she patted the dragon’s head affectionately – ‘I made a deal.’
Silverdust looked into the Envoy’s eyes and despaired.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Steiner
Steiner watched in horror as the father of dragons descended from the upper floor of the library, bursting through the ceiling above. Dust and books rained down as Bittervinge landed on huge claws. His long black tail snaked down, following in heavy coils. The floor buckled and groaned under the colossal weight and t
he building shuddered once more.
‘Look out!’ shouted Steiner. Too late, Bittervinge disappeared from view, falling to the floor below as the timbers surrendered under the dragon’s bulk. Steiner turned to run, almost blind with dust, but the floor dropped out from under him. His hand lashed out as he fell and he received a handful of splinters for his troubles, but he clung to the ruined timbers despite the pain.
‘Help!’ Steiner called out as the dragon sprawled among the ruin of bookshelves and countless tomes. Bittervinge had opened up a hole in the library some thirty feet across through two floors. The Envoy had clung on to the dragon’s horns and glared at Steiner, hanging from the floor above by a single hand.
‘I don’t know how much longer I can hold on!’ Kristofine’s face appeared above as Bittervinge collected himself below, his great jaws snapping beneath Steiner’s dangling feet.
‘Steiner the Unbroken?’ shouted the Envoy above the din, almost hysterical with laughter. She held on to the dragon’s vast horns, sitting behind the base of his long head. ‘I was expecting more.’
Kristofine grabbed Steiner by the arm and hauled him up. There was a frenzied moment as he dragged himself over the lip of broken wood and Bittervinge’s head rose higher.
And now I will avenge myself upon the Vartiainen bloodline.
‘Not today, halfhead.’ Steiner swung hard as Bittervinge lunged for the kill. The sledgehammer caught the dragon in the teeth as the jaws closed down. Steiner’s arms jolted so hard he almost dropped the weapon, and Bittervinge’s head snapped to one side. The Envoy shrieked as she slipped from her seat behind the ivory horns and fell, slamming into a black-scaled shoulder before plummeting to the book-strewn floor below.
‘We can’t win against that,’ said Kristofine in a shocked and reverent whisper. ‘We need to flee to the docks.’
‘We won’t stand a chance if we fight him in the open,’ replied Steiner from between gritted teeth.
Bittervinge swung his head back towards them, a fierce growl in his throat so loud Steiner could feel it in his chest. Teeth raked through the air and Steiner dropped to one knee to avoid the savage bite. Kristofine, just a few feet behind him, found herself lifted off the ground. She clung to the side of the dragon’s snout and slammed Sokolov’s dagger into Bittervinge’s scaled face. The dragon roared in pain before he reared upright, then shook her off.
‘Kristofine!’ Steiner watched as the woman he loved slipped from the dragon’s muzzle and fell to the floor below. He reached out to her and to his shock her descent slowed.
‘What’s happening?’
Felgenhauer appeared beside him, one arm extended towards Kristofine, using the power of Academy Zemlya.
‘Keep the dragon busy.’ Felgenhauer narrowed her eyes. ‘I have a score to settle with the Envoy.’ She jumped off the shattered floor to the storey below, slowing her fall with the arcane.
‘Why do I have to fight the dragon?’ muttered Steiner as Bittervinge fixed his gaze on Sergeant Tomasz and Lieutenant Reka on the far side of the hole in the floor. Silverdust and Streig appeared by Steiner’s side.
Come. We must help them. They will not stand a chance.
The Envoy had recovered from her fall, but was limping badly, trying to escape from Kristofine, who picked her way across the debris of the library with her sword in her hand.
‘This isn’t part of the deal,’ shouted Envoy de Vries, staring up at the dragon.
Did you really think I would help you usurp the Emperor? asked Bittervinge, projecting the words to all present. I wished only to be free, Envoy.
‘We made a deal!’ shrieked Envoy de Vries, hobbling away from Kristofine.
Dragons do not make deals. We take what we want.
Felgenhauer landed in the jumble of books and shelves just as Bittervinge swung his tail. Kristofine dived to the ground but Felgenhauer took the force of the blow. The Matriarch-Commissar was lifted from the ground and slammed into a bookshelf twenty feet away. She slumped down unmoving among the countless tomes.
‘Steiner!’ shouted Lieutenant Reka. ‘If you’re going to do something, do it now!’ The lieutenant had fetched up a length of broken timber and was using it as an unwieldy pike to keep the dragon from devouring him whole. Sergeant Tomasz swung his mace as the dragon’s head came close, but Bittervinge was unconcerned by such weapons. The dragon raised one claw and a low droning sound filled the air. Steiner knew dragons were magical creatures, but had never seen one use the arcane as a Vigilant did. Reka released the improvised pike and watched in dismay as the timber snapped in two above his head. The pieces sped across the library to land in the darkness, leaving Reka unarmed. Bittervinge pressed home the attack and raised his other claw to rend Sergeant Tomasz apart, and Steiner leapt forward. Tomasz fell back as the sledgehammer slammed the claws aside and the dragon hissed with fury.
You will not survive, Vartiainen.
Silverdust conjured a javelin of fire and hurled it into the dragon’s eye, causing Bittervinge to stumble sideways, almost crushing Envoy de Vries on the floor below.
‘This isn’t part of the deal,’ she screamed, dodging out of the way as best she could on her wounded leg. Kristofine had collected herself, and ran forward, but the Envoy drew a blade of her own and dropped into a low crouch.
‘I’ll not die to a lowly peasant!’
Kristofine thrust forward with her sword and the Envoy parried it, smashing her elbow into Kristofine’s face. Steiner was so intent on the fight below that he almost failed to notice Bittervinge had rallied. The wedge-shaped head darted forward, twisting sideways in a blur of teeth and black scales. Streig shoved Steiner out of danger and was swept into the air, his cloak snagged in the dragon’s teeth. Bittervinge bit down and Streig scrambled higher onto the dragon’s face to avoid being eaten. The soldier gripped hold of Sokolov’s blade where it protruded from the dragon’s muzzle and pulled himself up. Bittervinge roared and the library was filled with the sound of his pain.
Streig must not fall! Silverdust swiped left and right, both of his hands bright blades of fire that scored deep grooves in the dragon’s black scales. Bittervinge reared up and Streig disappeared from view, hurled through the hole in the ceiling to the floor above.
‘Frejna’s teeth!’ Steiner stared in shock. Streig wasn’t the only one in trouble.
‘Throne save me,’ sneered the Envoy as she parried another of Kristofine’s hasty strikes. ‘You even fight like a peasant!’ Wounded as she was, the Envoy sidestepped and blocked all of Kristofine’s strikes, smirking between exchanges of blows. In a fit of frustration, Kristofine drew back and thrust down with her sword, point first into Bittervinge’s tail. A sinuous ripple passed through the dragon’s body and its head whipped around to the source of the pain.
You dare wound me!
Kristofine ran towards the Envoy at a flat sprint as Bittervinge’s head thrust towards her in maddened fury. Kristofine dived to the side at the last moment and it was the Envoy, not Kristofine, that disappeared into the vast maw.
‘This isn’t part of the deal,’ screamed Envoy de Vries before the dragon flicked its head back and bit down. The snapping of bones silenced everyone.
Steiner.
Silverdust appeared by his side, one hand pressed to the wound in his chest. Smoke continued to escape from the Exarch’s body.
‘We have to get you out of here,’ said Steiner.
We will not survive this unless we defeat the dragon here. You know this, Steiner. Live up to your bloodline.
‘But it’s all bullshit,’ said Steiner. ‘My great-grandfather didn’t kill Bittervinge, so what chance is there for me?’ The dragon extended his great wings as best he could, causing more ruin in the devastated library.
It is true. The dragon’s words sounded in their minds in a sing-song golden sound that was at odds with Bittervinge’s terrifying appearance. Your great-grandfather did not kill me, that much is obvious, but he laid me low all the same so that the Emperor could
capture me and contain me. Bittervinge became still, staring down at them as his torso heaved with laboured breaths.
Then the Emperor betrayed your great-grandfather and told everyone it was he that had struck the vital blow. His bodyguard was celebrated as a hero, but the Emperor became legend, all from a single lie, perfectly told.
‘We all want the same thing,’ said Steiner, staring up at the black-scaled dragon. ‘We all want the Emperor dead. You could fight with us!’
Bittervinge didn’t move, his torso continuing to huff with each great breath. The smell of blood was on the air and Steiner tried not to think about Envoy de Vries.
It is true. I do wish for the Emperor’s death. I have wished for the Emperor’s death for a very long time. Seven decades of dreaming, wishing my tormentor finally gets what he is owed.
‘So join us!’ shouted Steiner.
There is however one thing I want more. The dragon lowered its head.
Steiner took an uncertain step back. ‘And what’s that?’
The end of the people who helped defeat me. The end of the Vartiainen line and the destruction of that hammer.
Bittervinge lunged forward, fanged maw suddenly wide. Steiner swung the sledgehammer and felt the dragon’s angular cheekbone shatter under the force of the blow. Silverdust punched forward with one hand, a blade of arcane fire burning bright. Steiner fell sideways as his strike took him off balance, watching in horror as the Exarch disappeared into the dragon’s mouth.
‘Silverdust!’
Bittervinge’s vast head continued to thrust forward across the shattered floor of the library like the prow of some deadly ship, throwing up a wave of books and broken shelves.
