Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 9-12

by Wilson, Sarah K. L.

  “Remember! No hurting the humans!”

  “Nngh! What do you suggest?”

  “Stop!” she roared, and I stopped, skidding to a halt at the last knot of golems, my eyes running up and down the human line.

  How was I supposed to get around them when they were lined up like that? How was I supposed to save the dragons without hurting these soldiers? This was impossible!

  I was about to say so when a blast of fire rocketed out of the human ranks. I had been distracted, looking at the dragons. I didn’t see it until it was upon me, blasting me backward off the golem and throwing me through the air to land with a hard smack in the mud. My head hit hardened mud and I moaned in pain. Trying to clear my eyes of the sudden stars I was seeing.

  Something was roaring like a fire. Was that me?

  “Roll, you fool! Roll!” the mimic screamed at me.

  Awkwardly, I flopped over onto my face and then barely managed to throw myself back onto my back. The smell of burning cloth and burnt flesh wafted up to me.

  Painfully, I pulled at my coat. The front of it was mostly gone, ragged around the edges, revealing bare flesh. In the center of my chest, the Eye pendant lay, untouched, and the flesh all around it in a sphere the size of both my palms was whole and healthy, as if the tiger stone had protected it, but the flesh around that circle sizzled and stung, flesh open and burnt around the edges.

  I hissed in pain, struggling up to my feet. I was dazed, uncertain of what had happened to me.

  I must have been knocked from my mount by a Magika fireball. I scanned the earth for Gran. My mouth went dry when I saw her bent and broken at the feet of a still golem, her head at an angle no head should be.

  Gran.

  I needed her.

  She couldn’t be gone!

  I needed her.

  Panic welled up within me and a bone-deep sense of loss. I hadn’t protected her and I should have. I kept leaning on her for wisdom without remembering how vulnerable she was. And now she was gone. I felt like I’d lost a treasure I’d never really had in the first place.

  “Now you can kill those people without anyone complaining,” my mimic said with a shrug. “And you might want to get on that. They’re charging.”

  I blinked as the wall of humans surged forward. The roar I had heard was the roar of their voices. They were already past the golem I had been riding, closing in on Gran – Skies and Stars rest her soul. There was really one thing to do. I turned and ran, scrambling across the muddy terrain down the aisle lined with golems.

  Who would have guessed back in the day that I’d die running from an army instead of from the City Watch? Or that I’d be dirty because I was knee-deep in mud, not because I’d taken a bribe. Good deeds never paid. Not the way criminal acts did. But I’d rather die like this than live like that.

  Something grabbed my shoulders, ripping me from the ground. They had me. I closed my eyes, waiting to feel the blades stabbing through me, but when nothing happened, I opened them.

  I was soaring over the battlefield.

  My heart stuttered at the sight.

  Got you. Saboraak said.

  My heart slammed against my chest in either relief or a new heart attack.

  I twisted in the grip of her feet, looking behind us to where her wing of Green dragons soared on either side, a tail of golems streaking toward us. Saboraak flew with all the speed she could muster as bright fireballs streaked around us.

  Who said life with me wasn’t exciting?

  No one ever said that.

  Who said it wouldn’t get the old ticker ticking?

  Seriously, no one has accused you of being boring.

  Who said it wouldn’t make every day taste sweet because you didn’t know if it was the last?

  Are you making these accusations up?

  It felt so good to hear her voice!

  You should hear Zyla. The girl swears like a sailor when she’s frightened for your life. You should have a quiet word with her about language.

  Because that would go over well. I could already tell that Zyla was a girl who took critique well.

  It would be for her own good.

  In the distance, the dark cloud had almost reached the city and now it was very clear that it was an army of dragons and at their head, a rider in a bright mask sparkled.

  We needed to get to them. We needed to meet with the Dominar and tell her what was happening. And I needed to find a way to end this war the way Gran would have wanted – with few human deaths and a future for everyone.

  It felt like someone had left a shard of glass in my chest when I thought of Gran. Maybe it was just the burns.

  Or maybe you’ve finally learned compassion.

  It couldn’t be that.

  We should see if Nostar knew how to sign to the dragons ahead of us.

  Unnecessary.

  We’d need to tell them we were friends.

  They already know.

  How could they know?

  Hubric is with them and let me tell you, Kyrowat has a bee in his ear about you. He says you’d better get over there fast or he’s going to show you what tricksters get as rewards.

  Hot cocoa and a warm blanket?

  Joy filled me at the thought of Hubric and Kyrowat alive and healthy. Relief at the thought of Kyrowat’s complaints.

  No.

  A comfortable nap by the fire?

  Definitely not.

  A new coat to replace this torn one?

  They thought you were dead. Kyrowat is angry that you put him through that. I really think I’m doing a poor job conveying his tone...

  But I was just happy he was alive. And I had an idea. One that maybe, if I was lucky, could end all of this.

  Chapter Ten

  Flying over an army wasn’t as simple as it sounded in my mind’s eye. By the time we reached the city, we were mired in flying golems and fireballs thrown from the Magikas below.

  We’re being hit! Saboraak cried as she spun away from an attack.

  I bit back a moan as her claw dug a little too tight into my shoulder as she dodged, but it only lasted a second before a dragon scream ripped from her throat. I looked above me to see her wing alight from where a fireball hit her and then we were spiraling down to the ground below. I swallowed, trying to clear the golems out of the way for her fall, but there were men and women below us, too, their Magika robes billowing as they darted in between the golems.

  We were at the base of the city, so close to where Aqeq and the Heads of Houses watched the siege – from a small cluster of pavilions sited on a small hill – that I could almost pick out faces from their pavilions. Human soldiers ringed their tents and formed up defensive protection in a low make-shift log wall – barely the height of my waist – and trenches.

  I glanced toward the Dominar’s flying army, but I couldn’t catch sight of them with Saboraak spinning so quickly.

  Skies and Stars!

  My feet hit the ground first and I was running before I had my balance, trying to get out of her way as her belly hit the ground. Behind me, I heard Zyla screaming and then there were dragons descending all around, nursing injured wings and tattered tails, flaming and flaring at the surrounding golems.

  I sang at the top of my lungs, forcing golems back while Nostar and Lenora dismounted, weapons in hand. They were circling the dragons, lining them up in a defensive position while Zyla and Letina spilled water over burning wounds and applied salves. I hadn’t had a chance yet to tell her how glad I was to see her.

  “You might not get a chance. This is a famous last stand if I’ve ever seen one,” the mimic said.

  Hold on. Help comes!

  But the humans were charging us now, and there was nothing I could do about their martial fury as I flung golems back, wrenching their souls from them by the dozen. Nothing that I could do to stop the surge as I fought to keep the magic-made creatures back. I saw Devind slip in the mud and Nostar caught him, pushing him behind his own body as he fought with
the other arm to hold back a charging enemy soldier. I saw Lenora pushed back with Janes as a second surge rushed forward. She looked to me, eyes wide as she retreated.

  And then a second voice joined my song. Bataar? No. It was Nostar, singing with me, lifting his voice. A soprano joined us. Zyla?

  I stumbled backward and a hand caught my arm as Zyla pressed past, staff at the ready to defend me, Stef at her side, brandishing her own staff. There were tear stains on her face.

  Saboraak’s color melded with the earth as she wrapped her wings around hurt dragons nearby. A kind effort, but I was pretty sure that the enemy could see us just fine.

  Bataar! Saboraak shouted through my mind and I was rocked by the strength of her communication. He just came through the Door of Heavens. He is asking that you refill the power of his rings.

  Because it wasn’t like I was busy fighting for our lives or anything. I reached out with a trickle of strength finding his ring and refilling it. I filled Zyla’s tattoos while I was at it. She rewarded me with a brief flash of a smile and then turned her mind to pushing golems back with me.

  He says all has been set in motion in Ko’Torenth.

  That’s nice. Now, if I could just finish my end of the bargain.

  He says to remember the prophecies.

  I’d been a poor student of the prophecies. Really, the ancestors should have chosen Bataar as the Ko’roi. He knew them all by heart. I focused on shoving back another group of flying golems, sending them spinning into their churning land-brothers below. But humans were plunging toward us, too. I watched from the corner of my eye as Nostar braced himself for the attack, turning the blade of an enemy with a single stroke.

  There was a cry from beside him and I spun to see Janes sprawled in the mud, Letina rushing toward him.

  There were too many. We were going to be overwhelmed in a moment.

  He says to remember: He commands armies with his visage. One glance and war withers. His hands weave justice. His right hand divides truth

  Uh huh. Very nice. But it was me who had to figure out how to fulfill that, and there were no thoughts coming to me. I wished Gran was here. I wished she could provide some insight.

  A column of men had formed behind the log wall where the Heads of House waited with Apeq. They were dressed in tunics bearing oak leaves. I’d almost forgotten about the Order of the Oak – Ko’Torenth Magikas. Just like I’d almost forgotten about the Midnight Artificers. There were probably plenty of them here today, fighting, winning, dying. We wouldn’t know who was who until it had all played out – if we even knew then.

  If I was even alive to know anything by then.

  I gritted my teeth, standing back to back with Zyla who had moved in close. The golems I’d been fighting were all frozen around us and nothing nearby moved but the humans, plunging toward us. Could we get back up in the air now?

  No.

  Would the Dominar’s army arrive in time to save us?

  No. They fight not far from here, but they are hindered by the flying golems and the Magikas on the south side of the city.

  I wasn’t going to be able to do this without shedding human blood. I was going to disappoint Gran.

  The Order of the Oak and the human fighters in front of us burst forward past the last frozen golems and I steeled myself for death.

  “It’s been nice knowing you,” I told the mimic.

  “I know,” the mimic replied.

  And then the screaming began.

  I didn’t even have a weapon anymore. I’d lost the staff. I was just a strangely tattooed mud-covered freak with the power to command metal creatures.

  One of the Order of the Oak rushed toward Zyla, his hands crackling with lightning. On instinct, I reached for his soul like I would for the soul in a golem.

  Just like with the cooks and farriers, the man fell in a crumpled heap and I sensed his soul flying from his body to the Doorway. But it didn’t have to be this way if they would just surrender!

  “Surrender!” I roared. “You will surrender!”

  I snatched at them like I did golems – snatched at fists of five or six at a time, pulling out their essences and flinging them to the door while their bodies dropped around us.

  It was wrong. It was horrifying.

  It was my only option.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sweat soaked me as I fought, spinning at one enemy after another. I caught glimpses of Saboraak flaming at the hordes of humans, saw snatches of Nostar fighting beside Letina, of someone helping Janes limp to the dragons. Of more fire. Of Lenora fighting, streaked in mud, her face set in beautiful determination. Of the faces of enemy after enemy swirling from around empty golems to plunge toward us, magic flaring from rods and hands. I felt a pang of guilt and despair every time that I snatched one of them from this life.

  Gran would be so disappointed.

  I was so disappointed.

  It seemed to take hours and hours. When at long last the attacks stilled and I leaned against Zyla, sucking in drawn-out breaths, Saboraak spoke.

  Those were the most intense minutes of my life.

  Minutes? They had felt like hours. I was overwhelmed – exhausted by the task at hand. How many were left to fight us?

  Hundreds. Thousands, maybe. They are distracted by the Dominar’s attack to the south and a small group of Dominion dragons is plunging through the battle toward us.

  We needed to fly a white flag.

  Surrender?

  No. Parlay.

  We needed to get Apeq and the Heads of Houses here. And the Dominar. We needed to talk about a way to end this that didn’t involve a ravaged city and thousands of dead.

  How?

  Could she speak to the Dominar’s dragon?

  I ... yes. But he is a Prince of Dragons. I’m shy to speak to him.

  Shy? Dragons were so confusing.

  Then speak to Kyrowat and ask him to talk to her dragon. Ask her to come to where we are. And we will parlay.

  But don’t we need Apeq here for that?

  I’d have to handle that part.

  “What are you volunteering us for this time?” my mimic moaned.

  “I need to speak to Apeq A’kona,” I told Zyla.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “You should stay and take care of the dragons here,” I said through gasps for breath. I was so tired. So very tired.

  I glanced behind me at the broken, wounded dragons and the broken people. I couldn’t tell who was hurt or who was helping. I didn’t see Stef or Lenora. I bit my lip, refusing to think about that.

  I needed to keep going. As long as I was alive, I needed to keep hoping.

  “You can barely stand,” Zyla said gently. “Here. Lean on me. I’ll help you get where you are going.”

  “I don’t need that,” I said, but she was already slipping her shoulder under my arm and lifting me up.

  “Shhh, my brave hero. Let someone else do something for a change. Even you have limits.”

  It would be too much work to stop her. Better to just let her do it.

  We started forward, me limping slightly. When had I hurt my ankle? It didn’t seem to want to bear weight.

  Be safe, Saboraak said.

  Was the Dominar coming?

  Yes.

  Then what I was doing now was more important than safety.

  We walked carefully through the fallen bodies and I tried not to let my stomach heave too much.

  They were my fault. Every one of them had fallen at my command. As we skirted the frozen golems, I could see up the hill to where our enemies were regrouping, and the Heads of Houses were speaking in a small huddle. Was that Apeq I saw?

  Someone noticed us, pointing and shouting and then there was a flurry of activity around the tents as they hurried to tell their superiors about our little two-person invasion.

  They’d be more than ready for us by the time we arrived. Walking uphill through the mounds of bodies was no picnic. I shouldn’t have let Zyla co
me with me, but I was pretty sure she wouldn’t stay behind. I had no power to make her do anything. Better to at least have her nearby. I didn’t want to admit how pretty her encouraging smiles were or how heavily I was leaning on her as we walked.

  I wasn’t thinking entirely clearly. My brain had been too tasked by its newfound skill.

  A pair of soldiers ran out to block us, as soon as we reached the enemy defenses throwing up their hands to halt us.

  “No one approaches the leaders of the Midnight Artificers and Ko’Torenth without express permission,” one of the soldiers said.

  “I’m not carrying a weapon,” I said wearily, not mentioning the fact that I was deadlier than any weapon I could carry.

  We pushed through the soldiers as they shared a confused look and then glanced back at the camp. Someone with a fancy helmet was waving frantically at them. They didn’t want to kill us – yet – but they didn’t know how to handle our lack of fear at their show of arms.

  Forces were amassing around the tents, grouping for something – perhaps to destroy our little band of dragons, or perhaps for a human assault of the city of Questan.

  “I’m here to speak to Apeq A’Kona,” I said as I approached the tents. From here, you could see across the valley plains that stretched under the city with ease. I shivered at the hordes of golems still crawlingup the stem of the city, at the flying golems swarming like clouds of locust over the hundreds of dragons the Dominar had brought. It was strange to be so far from the battle – to only be able to see it, but to barely be able to hear the clash of battle, the rallying cries, the shouts. It had felt more real when I fought face-to-face with the enemy in Estabis, but this time my battle was on the outskirts of the action.

  My heart soared at one sight.