The Black wing (d-2)

by Mary Kirchoff

  Suddenly a flash of lightning ripped into her flank, con shy;vulsing the muscles there and forcing a bellow of surprise and pain from the dragon. Looking back in anger, Khisanth saw her hind leg kicking uselessly in spasms caused by the lightning. The randomness of the attack infuriated her; she couldn't even "think" like lightning to anticipate the next bolt. As though answering her thoughts, several more bolts of lightning shot past dangerously close. She flapped back into the airy haven.

  Pteros was just as she'd left him. He eyed her scorched scales and asked apprehensively what happened. Frustrated and impatient, Khisanth refused to answer.

  "Did you see some other creature? Or has the elemental come back?" No answer came from Khisanth. "Why would the elemental attack you? Do you think it was the enemy the elemental had mentioned? Fraz, was that its name?"

  'It was just a bolt of lightning."

  Pteros was silent for a while. His head slumped on his forepaws. He stared forlornly at the shimmering blue wall.

  "You've got to try that gate spell, Pteros."

  Hearing the uncompromising tone in Khisanth's voice, the ancient beast answered without raising his head. "That spell is something I learned from an elf captive long, long ago, near the end of the war. I've forgotten most of what the elf told me about its use. I seem to recall it wasn't something we could use to go elsewhere, but rather a portal to bring something to us." Pteros looked worried. "It would be most imprudent to try it."

  The ancient dragon's timidity in the face of emergency brought Khisanth's anger back full force. "Does that mean you won't try anything, for fear of making things worse? How much worse can they get?"

  Khisanth's words only made Pteros look more miserable.

  "Your friend is right. Creating a magical gate here is most unwise. In fact, even the discussion of it might attract the attention of creatures more powerful than yourselves, plentiful indeed on a quasi-elemental plane."

  Khisanth and Pteros whirled in the bubble to find the source of the unnaturally deep voice. They both lurched back at the sight of a bestial, yet beautiful face pressed through the side of the air bubble. The face resembled a gorilla's, but with large, fan-shaped ears and a bald, pointed pate. The fur was white, almost a blindingly pure white, and the lips and mouth bright crimson. But most startling were the eyes, which promised incredible yet sinister intelligence.

  Khisanth eyed the beast warily at a distance. "You speak as if you've met such a creature."

  "I am one." The creature stepped fully into the bubble. His body, half the height of a dragon's, was thick and muscular and covered with sleek, pale fur. Like the face, the rest of the creature was vaguely simian, except for an unnaturally long tail that ended in bony barbs. The creature moved through the lightning environment with an easy grace that told Khisanth he was no stranger to this realm. "How is it you were foolish enough to come to my little plane without the means to leave?"

  "If you're as powerful as you say, you already know the answer to that," Khisanth said boldly.

  Pteros gasped at her reply. "Actually, a lightning elemental brought us here against our will," the old dragon explained hastily. "Perhaps you've seen it, a globe-shaped creature filled with white bolts of lightning?"

  "I knew the elemental to which you refer, yes." The crea shy;ture's meaning was unmistakable. "That one won't bring unwanted creatures here anymore." He raised one brow. "You would both be wise to choose your words carefully, lest you give the impression you don't like the realm of Fraz."

  With no apparent physical effort at all, the creature whirled across the bubble at tremendous speed. He stopped a short distance behind the two dragons.

  "Very well, Fraz, now that you've killed our elemental, can you return us to the Prime Material plane?" Though her tone was bold, Khisanth was wary of this creature who had dis shy;posed of the elemental, something Khisanth was not at all sure she could have done in this place.

  "If s within my power to send you anywhere you want to go, and some places you'd rather avoid, too. Because I find you and your lost friend so amusing in a helpless, pathetic kind of way, I'm willing to help you. You must do something for me first."

  Fraz allowed that to hang in the air for a few moments before continuing. "While I have many friends, I have even more enemies. In that regard, I am truly wealthy. I'd like you to engage one of them in a true contest of fighting skills. You needn't slay it."

  Pteros summoned the nerve to ask, "Why must we fight someone you don't even want us to kill?"

  The creature drifted close to Pteros and stared into the dragon's eyes. "Because I am the most powerful creature in my realm, and it would amuse me."

  "What if we refuse your challenge?" asked Khisanth.

  "Call it a command, call it an order, call it a request you can't refuse." The creature's tail flicked like a caf s, motionless except at the tip. The bony spikes clicked against each other as they flexed. Then Fraz shifted so he appeared to stand on all four limbs, like a gorilla, and walked through the air on his knuckles. He circled around the dragons twice, never looking away.

  Abruptly Fraz tapped his chin with a razor-sharp nail. "There was another creature here recently from the Prime Material. He tried to refuse. Perhaps you met him, a slight fel shy;low with slanted eyes and charred flesh?" Though the refer shy;ence to Yoshiki Toba had meaning for Khisanth alone, she was suitably impressed.

  The creature's sinister eyes shifted from side to side as if he were concentrating. Fraz pointed a fingernail at Pteros. "Charred flesh would be your fate." He turned his gaze on Khisanth. "You, on the other hand, would be forever trapped in my cozy realm, which would be the greatest punishment for you, if I'm reading your mind correctly."

  The dragons were silent. "Good, I see you've agreed to my contest. You will be fighting a storm giant. He's a crafty old fel shy;low named Comenus who has been a thorn in my side for too many centuries. Seeing how two mighty black dragons pitted against a lone giant isn't much of a contest, I've decided you'll fight not as dragons but as serpents. Feathery serpents, I think, for variety."

  As he spoke, the beast traced a glowing symbol in the air with a yellowed fingernail. The completed symbol hung before them, and Fraz positioned his talon beneath it as if bal shy;ancing the glyph. A puff of breath started the device spinning and spitting tiny sparks. Suddenly, with a flick of Fraz's finger, the sigil split in two and flashed across the bubble to burn into Khisanth and Pteros. Color swam before Khisanth's eyes.

  When her vision cleared, she saw, where Pteros had been, a snake with wings. His body was all black, with two large wings that had red spots at the base. He resembled a mon shy;strous, serpentine blackbird, like those Khisanth had seen so many times in the swamp. Glancing down, Khisanth saw that she looked the same.

  The dragon despised being compared to a snake. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed patience, but it alluded her. The infuriated dragon tried to belch murderous acid from her stomach to blanket and obliterate Fraz, but all that came forth was a weak growl. Instead of being angry, Fraz seemed tremendously amused, laughing out loud at Khisanth's feeble effort to attack. "No! No! Please don't burp on me, oh mighty dragon," he mocked. In a blink, he turned deadly serious. "That is all your acid is to me."

  Fraz abruptly opened his mouth, far wider than it should have been able to go, wider than his jaws could allow, and then wider still, until his maw was twice the size of his head. He exhaled, filling the elemental bubble with heat and stench.

  But a swirling cloud appeared before Fraz. His mouth returned to normal and closed. "Move forward to see what I am showing you," he commanded. The dragon-snakes moved up reluctantly as the mixing colors formed shapes and pic shy;tures. A huge man, with light green skin and dark green hair, dressed in a flowing tunic, sat in a titanic chair. A massive sword rested across his knees. "This is your foe, Comenus. Concentrate on this place you are seeing, and whichever direc shy;tion you travel, you will arrive there. Remember this place. Proceed straightaway to Comenus.
He's expecting you." The image, as well as Fraz, dissolved into a swirling cone of colors, but the undulating laughter echoed in the bubble for moments afterward.

  Khisanth searched her mind for some qhen advice of Kada-gan's. What she fixed on was not qhen at all, but the reason Kadagan had given her for choosing her as the instrument of Dela's rescue:

  "Dragons and humans have long been enemies, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

  "We need to find Comenus."

  "You, a snake, are planning to fight a storm giant?"

  "I'm not staying here forever." Khisanth didn't care whether Pteros followed her or stayed behind. All his tales of heroism aside, he was proving to be nothing more than a tired, timid old creature.

  "How will you find him?"

  "By concentrating on him, as Fraz said."

  "Wait for me!" she heard Pteros call, more afraid to be left alone than to follow.

  Khisanth darted through the bubble and into the seething tumult beyond. Once removed from the protection of the pocket of elemental air, the two snakes were buffeted like leaves in the wind. Moving in a continuous direction took tremendous effort. Khisanth had no idea where she was going, but she concentrated on the image of Comenus. After much fluttering, she spotted something approaching through the seething clouds and flashing lightning. She slowed down to get a good look. Pteros winged up alongside.

  The approaching object was becoming more distinct through the turbulence. Comenus. The storm giant was enor shy;mous, far larger than Fraz's image had made him look. The giant would have been much taller than Khisanth, and nearly as massive, even in her natural form. His skin was pale green, his beard and hair a darker shade of the same color. A narrow jeweled crown circled his brow. Across his shoulders was draped a tunic of silk and spun gold, while tores of gold and electrum circled his biceps.

  Comenus sat on a throne that appeared to be made of dark clouds shot through with lightning. Lying across his lap was a sword half as long as Khisanth's body. Propped against the back of the throne was a bow as thick as a tree, with arrows like lances. The throne was propelled through the air by some invisible means, like everything else in this realm. As the chair approached the two snakes, it, too, slowed then stopped, a mere fifty or so paces away.

  Khisanth had hoped to find Comenus in another elemental sphere so she could talk to him. Out here, in the deafening

  thunder, she could not hope to communicate with the giant. As if in response to her thought, the thunder died away, the lightning stopped flashing. Even the wind dropped. It made sense, Khisanth guessed, that a storm giant would have con shy;trol over the elements.

  After he had silenced the storm, Khisanth expected Comenus to address her, but he sat impassively. So Khisanth broke the silence. "You must be the storm giant, Comenus."

  Instantly the giant was on his feet, shouting in a voice that outdid the thunder, "Fraz has sent you to slay me!" The sword floated at his side within easy reach while he snatched the bow from its rest. An arrow disappeared from the quiver and reap shy;peared nocked on the bow. When the giant drew the enor shy;mous bow, it sounded like a tree crashing in the forest. Khisanth was shocked that a creature so large could move so quickly. She and Pteros scrambled away from the enraged titan, but not fast enough.

  The shot cracked like thunder. The arrow rushed past Pteros, its steel tip missing him by a hand's breadth, but its immense feather fletchings grazed his wing. The impact spun the snake-dragon around in a spray of blood from the lacer shy;ated wing. Pteros flew back, nursing his wound.

  The giant touched the bowstring a second time, and another arrow jumped from the quiver to the bow. As he drew it to his shoulder, Khisanth called, "We don't want to kill you. What could two tiny snakes hope to do to a storm giant? We only want to talk!"

  The giant's bow was still poised and ready to fire at Khi shy;santh. Even though she was minuscule next to the giant, Khi shy;santh doubted Comenus would miss at such short range.

  "You're right, Comenus. Fraz sent us to fight you. But we are not his allies. First, Fraz slew the elemental that could send us back to our home plane. Then he changed us from dragons into these ridiculous snake things. The last thing we want is to see his wish fulfilled."

  The gianf s expression was blank. "It would be faster for me to simply kill you." He loosed his arrow. It streaked straight toward Khisanth. There was no time to think, but her reflexes were still those of a black dragon in her prime. The snake body twisted aside, stretching to get out of the huge arrow's path. The iron tip, razor sharp and spinning through the blue air, sliced through Khisanth's tiny right wing at the first joint. She watched in mixed horror and fury as two-thirds of her wing tumbled away. In spasmodic flight, she barely managed to land on the storm-giant's cloud.

  Comenus set aside his bow and grasped his sword. As he extended the weapon, there was a burst of smoke. Abruptly Fraz appeared in front of the giant, facing Khisanth. The giant froze in place, as if time had stopped.

  "You've lost," the ape-creature said, then wagged a hideous finger. "Tsk, tsk. You tried to betray me. Still, you did come." Fraz looked suddenly sorrowful. "I know what. I'll send just one of you back to the Prime Material. But which one?"

  Pteros rushed forward from where he'd been cowering, favoring his injured wing. "Send me, Fraz. Her injury is worse than mine. She won't be able to fly anyway."

  The old dragon's pleas hardly surprised Khisanth. The whole scene seemed unreal, even less tangible than her dreams of flying with Led. Why had the storm giant just stopped moving? The more she thought about that, the more she thought there was something odd about all of this.

  Then Khisanth remembered another of her discussions with Kadagan. The nyphid had been explaining the difference between illusion and reality. Khisanth's ability to change shape, he said, was reality. And because of that, it was more powerful than any illusion; in fact, it was more powerful than magic of most types. With that thought foremost in her mind, Khisanth closed her eyes and projected herself back into her own body.

  She felt immediately, and knew even before opening her eyes again, that Fraz's spell was shattered. When she did look, the dragon saw her body returned to normal, her wing whole and unharmed. The same happened to Pteros. Comenus and his throne and his weapons were gone.

  Only Fraz remained. "Ah," he exclaimed, "so you've pene shy;trated my little game at last."

  In amazement, Pteros stared at his restored body and health. When he looked up, his eyes were dull and pitiful.

  Khisanth wanted to rip Fraz's smug, sneering face right off his head. But by anyone's reckoning the creature had dis shy;played an impressive amount of power. "All right, Fraz," she said as calmly as she could, "we passed your little test. Now send us home."

  Suddenly, Fraz's head cocked to the side, and his expression changed from smug superiority to alarm. He spoke, seemingly to someone, but the dragons heard only Fraz's voice. "Yes, mistress … I understand … It was a harmless game, mistress, no disrespect was intended … Of course, as you wish."

  Giving both dragons a malicious grin, he said. "You owe your return to the Prime Material plane to that which we all serve." Fraz's eyes seemed to penetrate Pteros for a moment. His voice was full of rancor when at last he said, "I just hope you like the destination I've chosen for you."

  Before the Cataclysm, the area of the Great Moors had been a sea. Mem Citadel was an island stronghold, a fortified base for the sleek ships that plied those waters. But the Cataclysm made islands sink and the sea bottom rise. The citadel now stood on a slight rise in an otherwise bleak and featureless expanse of bog.

  In its heyday, Mem Citadel had been an impressive castle. Following the Cataclysm and centuries of disuse, its inner walls were crumbled, but the outer battlements were still largely intact.

  On this steamy morning, it rose out of the swampland like a foggy apparition. The eastern length of the crumbling, lime shy;stone wall had sunk a noticeable depth into the marsh. As a result, the northern and
southern edges sloped sharply down shy;hill. The eastern wall's crenels and merlons, the low and high segments of its battlements, were in the greatest state of decay, likely the result of the stress caused by the citadel's sinking foundation. The gate in the center of what must have been the

  front wall had crumbled away, and only two towers remained, on the southwest and northwest corners. Much of the rubble from the inner wall had fallen outward, making passage diffi shy;cult between the walls. The lower stories of the main keep still stood, tilted slightly and surrounded by the tumbled stones of its upper floors. All of the wooden buildings were long gone.

  Inside the four thick walls were the same low shrubs and scrub pines that dotted the Great Moors, only these were tram shy;pled down from some great weight.

  The croaking and chirping of frogs filled the air, punctuated by the buzzing of insects. But these natural denizens of the bog were very sensitive to intrusion. On this morning, when the glaring light and crackling noise erupted in the center of the bog, the insect sounds dropped away to silence. A shimmering circle appeared in the air. Its outlines were vague and shifting, and filled with flashing lightning. A jagged bolt of electricity shot out of the form to scorch the ground. Smaller lines of cur shy;rent danced between the ring and the ground, twitching in a constant dance.

  With a crack that echoed off the fortress walls, a portal opened in the shimmering field, and two enormous shapes tumbled out of it to sprawl on the soft ground. Before they could disentangle themselves, the portal and its swirling frame disappeared. In moments a pair of black dragons stood shak shy;ing their wings and surveying the area.

  When his eyes fell on the decaying fortress, Pteros froze. Khisanth noticed the other dragon's alarm, and her eyes fol shy;lowed his to trace out the castle. She had never seen it before.

  'This is Talon's lair," Pteros whispered. "He lives here, in a tunnel beneath the courtyard, in what remains of the citadel's dungeon. If s no accident that we're here. Fraz must have read in my mind where I'd least like to be. After the elemental light shy;ning place, of course."