by James Maxey
Anza leapt to attack the remaining dragons that surrounded her, but Jandra didn’t have time to watch. The sky-dragon who’d attacked Vance was wheeling back around toward the roof, his jaws wide, a satisfied look in his eyes as it targeted Jandra. Jandra pulled the ramrod from her shotgun, having just finished tamping down the shot. She raised her gun. The dragon’s open jaws were only yards away when she pulled the trigger. The gap closed as the fuse sputtered.
Half a second later, there was a tremendous amount of smoke and noise. Jandra was knocked from her feet as the dragon’s now headless corpse crashed into her. The wind gushed from her lungs as the wet, twitching body pressed her down into the tarred boards of the roof. As she kicked and rolled to get free, Vulpine chuckled softly. Shay made a pained squeak, a noise like a kitten getting stepped on. At last, she crawled free of the corpse. Still on her knees, she wiped hot blood from her eyes as she tried to make sense of what was happening.
Shay was pressed flat on the roof, face down, with Vulpine’s hind-talon pinning the back of his neck. Vulpine was searching Shay, his long serpentine neck swaying back and forth. He held Shay’s shotgun in one of his fore-talons. He’d pulled free the belt that contained the bags of powder and shot. The sky-dragon sniffed the flash pan of the gun, his nostrils suddenly contracting, as if he found the smell unpleasant.
“An interesting toy, Shay,” said Vulpine. “But not the grand prize. Where are the books?”
“I’ll… never… tell,” Shay said, straining to breathe.
Smoke was starting to rise from the trapdoor that opened onto the roof. Had the earth-dragons who’d charged in earlier set the place on fire? Jandra had to admit it was a rather straightforward approach to dealing with snipers on the roof.
Vulpine eyed Jandra as she tried to stand.
“Girl, if you move another inch, I’ll kill you.”
Jandra glanced down at the silver bracelet on her wrist. She still had one chance…
There was creaking noise behind Vulpine. Two sets of human fingertips grasped the edges of the open trapdoor to the roof. The hands were small, tanned, and female. Anza’s head appeared above the edge as she pulled herself up.
Jandra’s felt a tremendous sense of relief. Short of Bitterwood, Anza was the person she most wanted on the roof beside her.
Vulpine calmly pulled Shay’s head backward and slammed it down, hard. Shay went limp as Vulpine leapt toward the trap door. He kicked out with his hind-talons, aiming for Anza’s face. Anza ducked, letting her body drop back down into the room below, but maintaining her grasp on the edges of the hole. Vulpine grabbed the wooden door, which was held up by a pole, knocked the pole free, and then slammed it down. Anza let go a fraction of a second before the wood could crush her fingers.
Sparks swirled up from the sudden rush of air. The roof was growing hot. Thick smoke poured from the sides of the building. The fire beneath them roared as the winter wind whipped through shattered windows.
Jandra didn’t waste the handful of seconds Vulpine was distracted by Anza. She shoved in the wad containing the gunpowder. She was ramming down the shot when Vulpine turned toward her.
“I told you not to move,” he snarled. “I saw how your toy worked,” he said, pointing the shotgun toward her with his fore-talon. He flinched slightly as he pulled the trigger, no doubt anticipating the explosion. However, the flintlock shot its sparks into an empty chamber. Shay had never reloaded. Vulpine looked baffled as Jandra pulled the ramrod free. She pressed the gun into her shoulder as she snarled, “This is how it works!”
Before her finger could twitch on the trigger, Vulpine spun. His long, whip-like tail struck the barrel of her gun as she fired. When the smoke cleared, Vulpine was still standing, looking amused. He leapt toward her, his jaws open wide. Jandra swung the iron barrel of her shotgun up, grasping the metal with both hands. The just-fired gun burned her fingers as she jammed it sideways into Vulpine’s mouth, blocking his bite. The slavecatcher knocked her backwards, pushing her closer to the edge of the roof. Though his teeth were blocked, the sky-dragon still bristled with natural weaponry. He kicked his hind-talon into Jandra’s gut and raked… snapping the tips of his claws. Jandra was grateful that Burke had insisted she wear the chain-mail vest beneath her coat.
“No eat!” a small voice cried. The slavecatcher hissed and staggered backwards as Lizard leapt from his hiding place near the chimney and landed on Vulpine’s back, claws digging in, his turtle-beak clamping onto Vulpine’s shoulder blade.
Vulpine snarled, whipping his tail up, knocking Lizard free. “Enough of this madness.” Vulpine leapt for the sky, the downbeat of his twenty-foot wingspan fanning the smoke. A dozen small fires erupted across the wooden roof.
Jandra tried to reload, but it was hopeless. Vulpine lifted further into the sky with each second. By the time she was ready to fire again, he was hundreds of yards away. Still, they’d chased off the most notorious slavecatcher in the kingdom. She would count this as a victory, more or less.
Lizard leapt onto Jandra’s shoulders. “Bad hot,” he said, looking at the flames.
“It’s okay,” said Jandra, going over to Shay. She wasn’t certain if it was her imagination, but the roof felt shakier than it had earlier. The earth-dragons couldn’t have set the fire more than five minutes ago. Even with the wind, should there be this much structural damage already? Almost in answer, something beneath her groaned, then crashed. She wondered if Anza had made it out.
“Shay!” she cried, kneeling beside him. She shook his shoulders.
He groaned as he opened his eyes. There was a large gash across this chin. He coughed violently as he sat up in the ever worsening smoke. He looked disoriented. “Where’s Vulpine?” he asked.
“Gone,” said Jandra. “I think he was rattled that my gun worked and his didn’t. Lizard pounced on him like a bob-cat and Vulpine turned tail.”
“Wait. His gun?”
“He took yours. Your ammo too. I hope he’s not clever enough to figure out how to use it.” Shay looked like this was a dumb thing for Jandra to say. “I’ll cling to any hope I can get at the moment, false or not. You may have noticed we’re on top of a burning building. And, unlike that wizard you mentioned earlier, I’ve never been able to fly.”
“Good thing Vance dragged up the ladder then,” said Shay, rising. “We can get down to the porch roof with this, then down to the ground.”
Jandra nodded. It was a sound plan. Shay lowered the ladder to the roof and held it as he motioned for her to go first. It was an unexpected gesture. The two human men she was most familiar with, Bitterwood and Pet, would have escaped down the ladder first and left her to fend for herself.
“Hurry,” he said.
Jandra descended the ladder. Anza was in the street again, crouched over Vance. There were no sign of any living dragons in either direction down the Forge Road. Human families were now rushing into the street, running from house to house to check on the wounded and count the dead.
Shay came down the ladder to the porch roof. The heat from the open windows made it hard to breathe. They lowered the ladder to the street and climbed down, then ran to Vance’s side.
“Is he okay?” Jandra asked Anza. Anza looked up, frowning. She shook her head.
Vance’s eyes were wide open, fully dilated, focused on nothing. He was bleeding from a gash on his scalp. “Why is it so dark?” he whispered. “Why is it so dark?”
Jandra turned away, utterly powerless. With her genie, she could have looked inside Vance to discover the nature of his injury. She could have repaired whatever damage she discovered from the cellular level up. She looked back toward the tavern as the roof collapsed, sending a whirlwind of flames heavenward. “Thorny!” she said. “He’s still in the basement!”
She tossed her shotgun to Shay. “This will only slow me down.” She took off running, darting down the alley that led behind the tavern. She looked up as a shadow flickered overhead—Vulpine? —but it was only the smoke blo
tting out the moon. She tripped as she reached the back of the ally, landing hard, skidding in the dirt. Lizard’s weight on her shoulder vanished as he flew off. A darker shadow fell over her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose at the metallic clank to her right. From the corner of her eye, she saw the thick, scaly foot of an adult earth-dragon.
She rolled as the earth-dragon grunted. A battle-axe bit into the earth where she’d been an instant before. The earth-dragon was dressed in full battle gear, breast plate, helmet, shield.
“Bad boss!” shrieked Lizard, sounding terrified.
The earth-dragon growled as he pulled the axe free of the cold ground, brandishing it above his head to strike again. Jandra kept her eyes fixed on her attacker. As he swung, she rolled again, to the side of the blow. Earth-dragons were strong, but not especially fast, definitely not under a full load of armor. Jandra braced her back against the ground and kicked up with both feet, targeting the dragon’s elbow. Her feet connected with a satisfying crunch and the dragon hissed as its talon released the axe handle. The beast staggered back, pain flashing in its eyes. Just as quickly, the pain turned to rage. The dragon dropped his shield and lunged, his free talon aimed at Jandra’s face. Jandra again rolled away, using her momentum to spring to her feet as the earth-dragon landed with a clatter on the spot where she’d been.
She leapt over his body before he could rise, grabbing the axe buried in the ground. The weapon was impractically heavy, probably fifty pounds. Before the genie tuned her body, there was no way she could have swung it. She spun around, letting momentum add to the strength of her swing. The dragon was raising his head as she sunk the axe into the back of his neck, just below the helmet. The force of the blow tore the weapon from her hand. She looked down, wincing at the large black splinter buried in her palm.
The dragon collapsed, lifeless. Lizard skittered forward and poked the half-decapitated earth-dragon on the beak.
“Not move?” he asked.
“Not move,” she said.
She turned as she heard footsteps behind her. It was Shay. He looked at the dead dragon, wide-eyed. “Are you all right? I heard a fight.”
“I have a splinter,” she said, holding up her palm. Her words were drowned out by a loud crash from inside the tavern. Sparks shot from every window. The fire roared as the wind whipped it into an ever-growing fury. Jandra scooped up Lizard and cradled him against her breast as she ran toward the tunnel. Shay followed at her heels. Her eyes searched the shadows for any further sign of dragon-stragglers.
“Thorny!” she yelled as she reached the tunnel doors. There was a small pile of clutter next to the tunnel, boxes full of tools, several round dials, their faces covered with numbers, plus stacks of notebooks, and vials of unrecognizable fluids.
“Thorny!” Shay shouted, using his hands as a megaphone. No one answered.
“Come on,” said Jandra, running down the tunnel. The doors at the end were closed, but reddish-orange light danced through the gaps. The air was distinctly smoky. Before they could approach the doors burst open, sending forth a blast of heat and a cloud of smoke. A tall, black-haired girl in buckskins with an old man slung over her shoulders marched out of the cloud.
“Anza?” Shay asked. Anza gave a slight smirk, as if to ask who else he might have been expecting. Thorny coughed violently. Anza marched up the slope, breathing evenly. Her buckskins were splattered shoulder to ankle in blood, but as near as Jandra could determine, Anza didn’t have a scratch on her.
“But… you were just in the street,” Shay said, following Anza. “How did…?”
Behind them, there was another crash, and another wave of smoke gushed up the tunnel, hiding everything from view. Jandra found the tunnel wall and held her breath as she groped her way back toward fresh air. Behind her in Burke’s workshops, things began to pop and sizzle in small explosions. Over this noise came a series of powerful twangs as springs began to burst free of the braces that held them.
Jandra made it outside and took a deep breath of the relatively clean air. She looked toward the tavern. Red hot iron rods six feet long were shooting up into the air, rising a hundred feet before they fell back toward the burning building, already losing their glow. The heat of the flames could be felt even here. The human villagers gathered around to gawk as the building began to tremble. Something deep within the guts of the building exploded with a deep bass rumble and the entire structure fell in upon itself. Jandra stepped away from the tunnel entrance as a jet of sparks shot out into the night air.
“Good light!” Lizard said, excited. The sparks swirled up into the winter sky like some sort of reverse snow. Jandra did have to admit that, stripped of all the horrors of the night, the sparks possessed a sort of primal beauty.
Shay stared down the tunnel, his face forlorn. “All those books,” he whispered. “Have I been cursed? Why does every book I touch lately go up in flames?”
“It’s just bad luck,” said Jandra.
“It’s more than bad luck,” said Shay. “It’s the end of my dreams. I had no plan but to escape to Dragon Forge. Now that I’m not welcome there, I don’t know where I’ll go. I had thought perhaps, with a few books, I could find some village that would want my services as a teacher. Without books, what do I have to offer?”
“You could come with me the rest of the way to the palace,” said Jandra. “If I get my tiara back, we can move freely through the place since I’ll have full control over my invisibility again. You can take all the books you can carry.”
“So… you admit you’re a wizard?”
“No,” said Jandra. “I’m a nanotechnician.”
“I don’t know what that word means,” said Shay.
“It means I command unimaginably tiny machines,” said Jandra. “At least, I used to.”
Shay looked at her skeptically, as if judging whether she was putting him on. He held the shotgun he carried out toward her. Jandra shook her head and loosened her gun belt, offering it to him.
“You keep it. You have a talent for it.”
Anza had laid Thorny on the grass after she’d carried him from the tunnel, but now the old man was back on his feet, his cheeks tarnished with soot. “Damn,” he said. “I didn’t get a tenth of the stuff on his list. If I were younger, or my hands a little stronger…”
Anza flashed him a few rapid hand gestures.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’m alive. That’s what counts.”
“You understand Anza a lot better than I do,” said Jandra.
“She grew up in my company,” said Thorny. “I’m like an uncle to her. By the time she was seven or eight, I never even thought much about the fact she didn’t speak. Once you know how to read her, she gets her thoughts across just fine with her eyes and her hands.”
“She’s never talked?” Shay asked.
“She made some noises as a baby, but stopped when she was about a year old. After that, she didn’t even make sounds when she’d cry. Some of the townsfolk whispered that she might be an imbecile, but anyone who knew her could see that she was smarter than other kids her age. Burke used to tell anyone who asked about her that it’s better to be silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.”
Anza crossed her arms, looking uncomfortable with this discussion.
“I guess I should go talk to the rest of the townsfolk,” Thorny said. “Tell ‘em what I know, have them get ready to head to Dragon Forge. Get Burke his notebooks and those gauges. The note said the rest of you were heading on to the dragon palace. We can probably find somewhere in the village where you can rest up for what’s left of the night. Get you washed up, too. Anza, you look a fright.”
Anza shrugged and brushed back a loose lock of her hair from her cheek, leaving a streak of dark blood like war paint.
CHAPTER SEVEN:
SUCH IMAGINATION
IT WAS DAWN when Vulpine arrived at the Dragon Palace. The ancient structure loomed like a small mountain near the banks of a
broad river that gleamed like silver in the morning mist. The human city of Richmond lay nearby, the docks already bustling with laborers. The rebellion at Dragon Forge must seem very distant to these men, thought Vulpine. Richmond was a bustling center of trade, a gateway between the flat coastal plains to the east and the hills and mountains to the west. Thirty thousand humans dwelled in Richmond, by far the largest city in the kingdom.
Even though Richmond lay in the shadow of the Dragon Palace, it had escaped Albekizan’s genocidal schemes unscathed. Albekizan had drawn upon the labor of the humans here when he built the Free City not ten miles distant. The Free City had been designed by Albekizan’s wicked brother Blasphet to serve as a trap for humanity, a promise of paradise that was actually intended to bring about the final solution to the human problem. Yet, in the end, the trap did more damage to dragons than men. The first wave of humans brought to the city had fought back when Albekizan ordered their slaughter, led by the legendary dragon-hunter Bitterwood, aided by the treacherous wizard Vendevorex. During all this turmoil, the men of Richmond had simply carried on with business, keeping the canals open, buying and selling goods. Every scrap of lumber, every nail and hammer used to build the Free City had passed through these docks.
Vulpine had considered Albekizan’s plan to wipe out humanity sheer madness. As a slavecatcher, he was keenly aware that dragon society was built upon the labor of humans. None of the three dragon races could ever replace them.
Earth-dragons were fit only for lives as soldiers; blacksmiths were the closest thing to artisans that their race had ever produced. There was no earth-dragon sculpture or literature, and earth-dragon music was barely distinguishable from noise. Earth-dragon cuisine was even more abominable—all pickled sausages and salted meat, spiced to eye-watering heat. Earth-dragons could never replace the skills of human farmers, carpenters, and craftsmen.
