Still, Kast’s senses, sharpened by the dragon form he wore, smelled the trace of Hunt’s fear. It terrified the man to know what he became without the child. Thus, he clung to Sheeshon now. The child had to come with them to the island. For Hunt to be freed by the volcanic smoke, he would have to travel with Kast—and Sheeshon had to accompany them to keep Hunt under control.
But the battle continued.
“Roddie must come!” Sheeshon screamed into the overcast day. The child refused to go anywhere without her friend, even to the blasted island.
Rodricko did not share her sentiment. He sank back into the high keel’s shadow, eyes wide with fear. He clutched the flowered stem to his chest. The flower lay bloomed under the boy’s chin, casting a fiery glow from the heart of its purple petals.
Kast had had enough of this delay. He remembered the fear in Sy-wen. It was a dagger in his heart. Enough! The fire in his chest burst out in a roar that tumbled everyone back from his flanks.
Sheeshon’s face drained of color. Hunt shielded her under him, as if fearing Kast would attack. Rodricko ducked between the high keel’s legs and hid in his cloak.
Only Xin seemed unaffected by his outburst, a broad smile on his small face. “The dragon has lost patience. He bellows his agony for the woman he loves. It is written with fire on his heart.”
Again Kast appreciated the tribesman’s talent.
Shaman Bilatus wiped his brow, paler than a moment ago. He addressed Hunt. “You cannot fight this child all the way to the island. Kast will have enough to do getting you both safely there. If the child will be calmer with Rodricko along, then so be it.”
Kast grunted agreement, tossing his head.
“We’d be putting the boy to needless risk,” the high keel argued, standing taller to protect the child.
Bilatus motioned toward Blackhall. “We all stand in the shadow of that cursed peak. The boy is already at risk.”
The high keel narrowed his eyes, hardly convinced. Bilatus stepped nearer his leader. “Sheeshon gave us the key to unlock your son’s imprisonment. If she hadn’t insisted the boy’s flower be bathed in the island’s smoke—”
His words were waved away by the high keel. “I’m indebted to the girl.”
“And you also owe the seven gods of the sea your thanks. The child is blessed with the rajor maga. She hears their whispers from over the horizon. They speak through her.”
The high keel’s lips hardened to thin lines.
“We should listen to her now,” Bilatus said firmly.
The high keel expelled a large breath. “Let it be done then.” He unfolded the boy from his sea cloak, then patted him on the shoulder. “Go with Sheeshon and Hunt.”
Rodricko didn’t move, a statue with large round eyes.
The high keel dropped to one knee. “You are Dre’rendi, are you not? A Bloodrider.”
Slowly the boy’s head nodded.
“Then you must make your heart as brave as a boulder in an angry surf. That is our way. Can you do this for your high keel?”
Rodricko’s eyes brimmed with tears, but he made a small sound of agreement.
“That’s a good boy.” He turned Rodricko around and passed him to Hunt. The high keel stared hard at his son. “Take care of the children.”
“With my own life,” Hunt promised. He scooped Rodricko into one arm.
Sheeshon followed willingly, all the fight replaced with excitement. “We get to ride a dragon!” She puffed her tiny chest out. “Course, I rode one before.”
In short order, they were mounted on Kast’s back. He snugged the flaps around Hunt’s ankles to hold him in place. In turn, the big man held the two children clasped between his own legs, arms around them.
“Safe journey!” Bilatus called.
Kast stretched his wings and readied his legs to leap skyward. But a door crashed open nearby. “Wait!” Master Edyll climbed out, a pack in his arms. “Wait . . . Take this with you!”
“What is it?” Hunt asked as the elder limped forward.
He panted, his expression pained. “For Sy-wen.”
The high keel frowned as Hunt took the pack, but Master Edyll was as impatient as Kast. “Go!” the elder said, backing away. “Go!”
Kast bunched his legs under him. Hunt hunched over the children. With a burst of legs and sweep of wings, they shoved from the ship into the empty air.
Kast spread his wings, letting the instincts and reflexes of the dragon’s body do most of the flying. The wings caught the winds, banking away from the ship. He felt the pressure of his wards atop his back and was careful to balance them as he caught a warm uprising from a boiling section of sea. Though his heart cried to rush to the black beaches and Sy-wen, he kept his pace even.
Sheeshon whooped with excitement, while Rodricko’s cries were more moans of worry. “Open your eyes!” Sheeshon yelled into the winds.
“No!” Rodricko answered.
The black mountain covered the horizon ahead of them, and slowly—too slowly—grew to fill more and more of the sky. The plan was for them to sweep onto the beach and have Hunt climb to one of the smoking spouts. Once Hunt was exposed and hopefully cured, he would remain with the children and Sy-wen in hiding. Kast would keep guard from the air while overseeing the assault upon the beast in the gate.
When the mer’ai forces were through the opening in the rocky Crown, a rescue force would be sent to collect Sy-wen, Hunt, and the children. Kast would then turn his full attention upon the battle.
According to Xin, Tyrus had already reached the Northern Gate with the d’warf army. The goal was to join their two forces inside the mountain. A rallying point had been coordinated using the maps provided by Harlequin Quail.
After Sy-wen and the others were safely away, Kast would attempt to penetrate the cavernous gate. If the monster lurking there could be lured away, he would sweep through the gate’s threshold, to scout out what lay ahead for their forces.
That was the plan. But Kast had been in hundreds of campaigns and sea battles while sailing the Blasted Shoals with the Dre’rendi: He knew that few plans unfolded without mishap. So he flew with a heavy heart, weighted down by worries.
Overhead, the cadre of Thunderclouds swept forward, iron keels glowing brightly in the gloom of the day. Already spats of lightning ran in shivering tangles over their lengths as the ships’ captains fed energy into the magick-wrought iron, readying for the attack. The six ships sailed in a tight formation, an arrow aimed toward the gate.
Kast banked out of their shadows, heading slightly westward, toward where he had left Sy-wen. He slowly increased his pace, and soon they were sweeping over the shoals and gliding low over the lagoon. Ahead, the black sand beach stretched empty.
His heart thundered in his ears. Where was Sy-wen? As he frantically scanned the rocks and sand, he both prayed and feared he had the wrong section of beach. Surely she would have spotted their approach and come out of hiding.
As he reached the beach, he cupped back his wings and extended his legs to land in a running stop in the loose sand. But he barely noted his safe landfall. Instead, roar of frustration bellowed from his throat.
Then Hunt’s words cut through the hammer of his heart. “She’s over there!”
Kast scrambled around, casting up a plume of sand with his claws. Far down the beach, he spotted a lithe figure leaping down some rocks. Sy-wen! Relief flooded through him. He must have overshot his target. He cursed the island for its monotonous shoreline, but his relief made him drunk with joy.
Down the strand, Sy-wen struck the sand running and raced toward them. As she flew, she moved to the wet sands where the waters lapped the beach, seeking firmer footing.
Only then did Kast spot her pursuers.
They looked like four boulders tumbling behind her, craggy and massive. They leaped after her atop massive hind legs, bounding like malignant toads. The one in the lead yowled, revealing a maw that split its head from one side to the other. Daggered fangs line
d the mouth.
Kast shrugged the riders from his shoulders. Hunt, already half off, was knocked to his knees in the sand, still clutching a child under each arm.
Free of his burden, Kast leaped forward, closing the distance to Sy-wen in a single bound. He trumpeted his fury at the beasts.
The creatures slowed warily, allowing Sy-wen to race to him.
Get to Hunt! he bellowed at her.
Without a word of argument, she raced under one of his wings, ducking low, lest her touch turn him back into a man. Careful, my love, she sent as she passed.
Care was not something on his mind. He was ruled by the dragon instincts rising to the surface. Rage fueled his blood. His vision sharpened upon his prey.
As if noticing the attention, the first of the beasts struck, leaping toward the dragon’s long neck, mouth gaping, teeth glinting. Clearly the creatures had never tangled with the likes of a dragon. Kast snatched the toadish beast in midair, clamping hard, fangs piercing deep. Bones splintered. Kast shook the creature, hearing another satisfying crack, then tossed the limp form into the lagoon.
The next two attacked in unison. One went for his throat, the other his belly.
Kast knocked the first aside with a blow from his wing. The other was crushed under silver claws, driven into the sands as Kast spun all his bulk atop the one foot. The beast who had been knocked aside bounded back stubbornly, only to meet Kast’s jaws. He bit through the creature’s neck, leaving its headless body to scrabble blindly before falling quivering to the sands.
“Kast!” Sy-wen screamed behind him.
He whipped around to find the fourth and final creature had slipped past him during his battle, splashing through the shallows to go after easier prey.
Hunt stood down the beach, sheltering the two children and Sy-wen. He had a sword in one hand and Sheeshon’s tiny palm in the other. They dared not break hold of one another.
The beast leaped toward the trio. Hunt tried to retreat from it, but his feet tangled with Sheeshon. They both fell.
Rodricko was left a step ahead of them, frozen in terror. Sy-wen, knocked to her knees herself, reached to snag the boy from the beast’s path, but the monster was already in the air, driving down upon the ashen boy.
With a high scream on his lips, the lad thrust his only weapon toward the monster: his fiery flower.
“Roddie!” Sheeshon yelled in terror.
Kast bounded down the strand, but he knew he’d be too late.
The massive beast landed atop the boy.
“Roddie!”
But instead of being crushed, the boy remained standing, wrapped inside the beast who was now no more than a smoke-sculpted version of itself. Then even these features wafted away into a vague cloud.
Inside the smoke puff, Rodricko’s flower shone with a fierce fire, petals peeled back from its heart. Then the smoke seemed to draw into its blaze, sucked into the flower’s heart—and Rodricko stood unharmed in the sand, holding the flower.
Sy-wen pulled him into her arms. “Rodricko, are you all right?”
Kast stalked to them as Hunt and Sheeshon gained their feet. He watched for other attackers.
Sy-wen spoke. “The flower’s magick saved him.”
Kast grumbled deep in his chest. Or perhaps it was the boy himself. His bloodline is shared with that of his mother, a Grim wraith.
Sy-wen nodded. “The magick of the island’s twisted smoke must have quickened the dread parts of his bloodline; it draws the essence from a living being.”
As the smoke drew Ragnar’k from me.
“And the simaltra’s essence from me.”
Kast surveyed the beach, as wary of the magick seeping like fever sweat from the mountain as of any lurking beasts.
A crack of distant thunder suddenly split the quiet. The ground shook under their feet, and thunder pealed again.
Kast swung his neck eastward. Flares of brilliance crackled from around the shoulder of the mountain.
“What’s happening?” Sy-wen asked.
The elv’in ships are attacking the beast in the gate. The battle begins.
Hunt explained their plan as the thunder rumbled on, but Kast kept his focus on the landscape around them.
“If they’re attacking,” Sy-wen said, “we’d best get Hunt to one of the smoke chutes. There’s a seepage just up the beach. I discovered it while searching the shoreline.”
You were supposed to stay hidden, Kast scolded, now understanding how the creatures had found her.
Sy-wen frowned at him, then led the way.
He rumbled a heavy sigh. Sy-wen was never one to follow instructions. But he could not complain—if she had not disobeyed her own mother, the two would never have met.
Sy-wen marched around an outcropping to where a small crevice spewed a thin column of ash and smoke.
As Kast stood guard, Hunt shoved a hand into the smoke. The effect was immediate. A gasp shuddered up from his heels, shaking his frame. Sheeshon, who still held his hand, was thrown back.
Hunt dropped to his hands and knees, moaning. Then for an endless span, he spewed his belly into the sands. Blood trailed from his lips. And still he remained hunched, heaving, covered in sweat, shaking, while the children clung to Sy-wen.
Finally, Hunt sat back on his heels, wiping his face on his forearm.
“Hunt?” Sy-wen asked tentatively.
He simply nodded. Sheeshon broke out of Sy-wen’s arms and rushed to Hunt. “The worms are gone!”
Are we sure? Kast silently asked Sy-wen.
I think we should trust Sheeshon. She would know. Sy-wen faced him, her eyes shining with warmth. As you knew with me.
Kast stared into her eyes. How he longed for her touch, to be transformed back into a man, to hold her in his arms. The same desire shone in Sy-wen’s eyes. But the dangers here were too great. The dragon was needed as guardian over them all. They dared not risk it.
Finally, Hunt rose—wobbly, but he regained his footing quickly.
The distant pounding of thunder was now almost constant. With the others safe, an anxiety to find out what was happening grew in Kast, stoked by the tremble in the ground below and the rumbles from the skies above.
The dragons should be here soon to take you all to safety, Kast told his wards.
“Hunt and the children, maybe,” Sy-wen answered, her back to him. She swung around, holding the bag sent from Master Edyll. She pulled out a long, shimmering garment. “It’s a sharkskin bodysuit,” she explained, “used by my people for deepwater diving. With the gloves and hood, it covers the entire body.” In addition, she pulled out a long belt, fastened with numerous small starfishlike creatures. He recognized them as stunners, tiny paralyzing weapons used by the mer’ai.
Kast was bewildered as Sy-wen quickly slithered into the skintight suit.
She stretched into one of the gloves. “Master Edyll knew I wouldn’t want to leave you.” She touched his nose with her gloved fingers.
He flinched back, expecting the explosion of magick, but nothing happened. He remained a dragon.
“With the suit, I can ride atop you.”
There is no need, he argued. I can still be a dragon without you.
She simply frowned at him again. “I’m going.” She yanked on her other glove. “And dragon or not, I’d like to see you stop me.”
Though a part of him wanted to argue further, deeper down he was relieved. After being separated half the day, he was loath to part from her again.
Before any further words could be exchanged, Hunt pointed to the lagoon. “Dragons!”
A pair of jade seadragons surged through the shallows, rising with noisy exhalations of breath. The riders spat out breathing tubes. “Hurry!” one called. “The path through the Crown grows more heated with every passing moment.”
“What’s happening?” Hunt called, splashing forward.
The rider shook his head. “No time. We must be off.”
Kast’s heightened senses registered their f
ear. Eyes kept glancing eastward. Their apprehension flowed into him.
Hunt gathered up Sheeshon and Rodricko and aimed for one of the dragons. But Sheeshon wiggled free. “No, wait!” She dropped to the shallow water, then reached back up to Rodricko. She grabbed his flowered branch, seemingly oblivious to the fact that a moment ago the tiny object had slain a beast a hundred times larger than she.
She lifted the branch, studying it, then lifted back a petal to reveal a small bud sheltered under the larger main flower. She fingered it delicately. No larger than a thumb, its purple leaves were tightly closed.
Kast frowned inwardly. The bud had not been there earlier; Kast was sure of it. He had carried the stem himself. It must have budded during the play of magick earlier. He feared for the girl touching it and sounded a grumbled warning.
He was ignored. Sheeshon pinched the bud between her fingers and simply tore it free.
“Hey!” Rodricko yelled at her. “That’s mine!”
Sheeshon sneered at him. “You don’t need two flowers, Roddie! You’re just being a grubby hog.”
“I am not a grubby hog!”
Sheeshon stalked over to Sy-wen. “Here.” She placed the closed bud in Sy-wen’s gloved hand.
“What do you want me to do with it?” Sy-wen asked.
Sheeshon shrugged. “It’s yours. Rodricko needs to learn to share. Mader Geel said so.”
“She did not!” Rodricko blasted back at her. “You’re the grubby hog!”
Hunt collected back his charges as the two continued to argue. He passed Rodricko to one of the riders and climbed behind the other with Sheeshon. The riders showed their wards how to use the air pods. Hunt lifted an arm in farewell, and the two dragons receded into the deeper waters and vanished away.
Sy-wen crossed to Kast, tucking the petaled bud in a pocket. “It is time we were off, too.”
Again he longed for a moment to hold her in his arms, but thunder still echoed, and new noises intruded: the crash of boulders and horns of wars. The catapults aboard the Dre’rendi ships were engaging—but what did they face?
Wit'ch Star (v5) Page 52
