by James Hunter
Well done, I sent, patting Devil’s neck with one hand. Now let’s get her to play follow the leader. Fire bomb the crap out of her, then head for the clouds. But make sure to keep her close—we don’t want to lose her. I glanced up, searching the sky overhead. There was no moon, no stars, no sun, just endless dark the color of a bruised plum—but there was lots of cloud cover. A sea of swollen red fog, illuminated intermittently by brilliant flashes of lightning. That’s where we need to be.
Devil snorted in acknowledgment, and then he was moving, tucking his wings in as he dived toward Arzokh’s spike-covered back, his jaws flashing. He streaked over her like a supersonic jet, spewing purple fire across her neck and head with an inhuman screech, then dropped down further until he was soaring twenty feet in front of her crushing jaws. I stole a look and shot her a wave and a wink, as though to say, this is all just a game to us.
“You will suffer unending pain for your insolence, mortal,” she boomed in response, huge strings of flaming green spittle spraying out.
“Gotta catch us first,” I hollered before blasting her in the eyes with another Umbra Bolt—just insult to injury at this point. Then I shot her another wink for good measure, dropped flat against Devil, and dug my heels into his side, pulling us up. The Drake arched back as he pumped his wings, hot wind rushing around us as we streaked up. I stole another glance back—just a quick peek—and couldn’t help but grin: the great dragon was following, her neck craned upward as her immense wings beat furiously at the air, generating tremendous downdrafts.
She opened her jaws, unleashing another churning column of flame, but I simply spurred Devil on, willing him to go faster. And he did. We stayed maddeningly close—swooping, flipping, banking, rolling, lobbing potshots for the hell of it—yet always just outside her range. She snapped and cursed, occasionally howling in impotent rage as her wings kicked into overdrive. No matter how hard she worked, though, we were always one step ahead. Sure, in a straight-up fight, there was no way we could take her, but in a contest of speed?
Well, Devil would win that every time. Work smarter, not harder.
In next to no time, we broke into the dense, churning cloud banks, obscuring our position while also drastically reducing visibility, which meant we were likely to blunder directly into the Sky Maiden if we weren’t careful. There was no other way, though. No reward without risk, and no change without challenge. Devil angled higher, wheeling right in a lazy circle while a flickering shadow blurred through the clouds below us, her enormous body displacing a swirl of pink mist in passing.
Time for phase two.
THIRTY-THREE: Crash Landing
“You cannot hide forever.” Arzokh’s voice rang out, distorted and dampened by the thick fog. “I don’t know what you hope to accomplish, but this fight can only end in your death. And what a painful death it will be, that much I can promise you.” The air swirled again, disturbed and displaced as the Sky Maiden sailed by, concealed in the cloud cover, but almost close enough to reach out and touch. My heart thumped like a jackhammer, and my lungs kicked into double time as nervous sweat broke out across my brow and rolled down my neck.
This was definitely a risk, no doubt about it.
Despite my fear, I remained silent, refusing to be baited into giving away our position, concentrating instead on my next task. With another effort of will and a burst of Spirit, I conjured up all three of my Shadow Watcher minions, one right after the other, draining almost all of my Spirit in the process. I was certainly feeling those Death-Head debuffs now. Nikko appeared first, followed in short order by Kong and Mighty Joe, all hovering in the air on outstretched wings like ghostly specters, partially obscured by the red mist. I reached out to Nikko with my mind; her essence took shape in my head, standing out like a flickering candle in a dark room.
I didn’t have a solid relationship with her—not like I did with Devil, not yet—but I could direct her easily enough. And I was hoping she, in turn, would be able to direct my other simian minions. Instead of trying to talk with her, or explain what I needed in words, I envisioned what I wanted, sending her a single image: each of them taking one of the ropes and wrapping it around Arzokh’s body, tying her up tight like the Lilliputians capturing Gulliver.
For a long beat, nothing happened, but then Nikko moved, darting forward with the twins trailing behind her, their arms outthrust, ready to receive their lines. With a sigh of relief, I unloaded the rope. Each chimp got a coil of enhanced spider silk, a hundred yards long, which they slung awkwardly around their necks and shoulders, their wings beating furiously to hold them aloft with the added weight. I nodded to each, then turned my attention back to Devil.
Okay, time to light up the sky.
Devil growled happily in reply, the noise emanating from deep in his chest, and he spewed purple Dragon Fire into the air, swinging his head back and forth like a backyard sprinkler dispensing sizzling flame instead of water. The attack wasn’t meant to hurt anything, but it sure was attention grabbing. Just to be safe, though, I thrust one hand high in the air and unleashed a volley of Umbra Bolts, the purple orbs zipping through the air like road flares, screaming here we are, here we are, here we are at the top of their lungs.
A thunderous roar shook the air as Arzokh burst through a nearby cloud spire, her eyes wide and crazed—determined to see us burn and die. But Devil was already diving down, dodging her snapping jaws by a matter of feet, then breaking left and wheeling right. The Sky Maiden followed, not able to match Devil’s agility, but making up for it with raw power and unwavering determination. We hooked left as a freight train of fire carved a wide channel through the dense mist; even though the attack didn’t land, just the proximity was enough to shave off a fraction of my HP.
I ignored all that, though, letting Devil handle the flying as I scanned the clouds above Arzokh, waiting for my monkeys to appear. To act. Everything seemed to crawl by in half speed, as though the world itself was holding its breath, and then it happened. The Sky Maiden let out a disgruntled grumble of pain and protest as the chimps poofed into the Material Plane and sank a trio of beefy meat hooks into her pebbly flesh: one hook went in near her sinuous neck, another in her left flank, a third into her right flank, just below the wing joint. Arzokh spun, lashing out at Nikko with wicked fangs.
Arzokh was too slow by half, though.
By the time her mouth snapped shut, Nikko was gone—disappeared—and the free end of her rope was already arching gracefully through the air, crisscrossing the Sky Maiden’s body. Kong and Mighty Joe followed suit, hurling their lines through the air then vanishing into the Shadowverse, defying space and time, only to appear a second later. The three apes each caught the flying hook at the free end, then swooped low beneath the dragon, looping the ropes around her belly and sweeping skyward once more.
Wrapping Arzokh tighter with each pass.
The effects were immediate—the Sky Maiden’s reptilian limbs tangled in the impossibly strong rope, her wings struggling fruitlessly to generate lift. For the first time since entering the Twilight Lands, I saw a flash of something new in Arzokh’s golden eyes: Uncertainty.
Maybe even fear.
Immediately, Arzokh shifted focus away from Devil and me, finally realizing my strategy and the very real danger it posed to her. She snapped with her ferocious jaws and lashed out with her tail, but each attack whiffed. The dense cloud cover made it nearly impossible to track the flying apes, and even when she managed a strike, they simply poofed into the Shadowverse, vanishing then reappearing elsewhere, implacably continuing their work. Meanwhile, Devil and I harassed Arzokh mercilessly, flitting around her face and head like an annoying fly, narrowly avoiding her every attempt to swat us down as we blasted her with gouts of shadow flame or irritating Umbra Bolts.
No damage, but we ran great interference.
The deadly game of cat and mouse continued, but with every minute that passed, the Sky Maiden struggled more and more to stay aloft—every minute that sl
ipped by was one closer to victory. The real end came, however, when the chimps finished wrapping their lengths of rope around the Sky Maiden and sunk the second meat hook deep into her scaly flesh. Up until then, there’d been enough give in the zig-zagging lines for her to flap her wings—even if the motions were awkward and encumbered—but that all came to a screeching halt as those hooks bit down.
She strained against the lines, howling, but they held despite her mammoth strength, and suddenly she was falling. Spiraling like an asteroid breaking through the stratosphere on a crash course for the earth.
With their work done, I recalled my trio of chimps and guided Devil into a measured dive, keeping pace with the Sky Maiden as she careened toward the ground. The dragon flipped end over end, twisting this way and that, struggling against her silky bonds the entire time, but failing to make an inch of progress. The hooks were rune-etched—barbed and nearly indestructible—and the ropes didn’t so much as fray.
At a hundred feet from the canyon floor, I pulled up on Devil’s reins, drifting along as the Sky Maiden finished her meteoric descent. She smashed into the canyon floor a hundred feet from the portal back to the sacred glade, landing like a wrecking ball of flesh and bone. The ground cratered on impact, kicking up a mushroom cloud of volcanic ash and gritty dust. Once the debris cloud finally died down, Devil and I cruised slowly—almost leisurely—to the ground, touching down lightly on the edge of the newly formed depression. The Sky Maiden lay at the bottom, her bones broken, her wings shredded from the rough landing, her neck twisted at a unnatural angle.
She was alive, her HP bar undiminished, but her eyes were glassy and all the fight seemed to have leaked away with the fall. Now, she appeared resigned to whatever end I had in store for her.
Carefully, I slipped from my saddle, boots scraping across the loose scree on the ground. Wait here, I sent to the Drake, inching my way over the crater’s edge and sliding down a few feet to the bottom of the shallow basin. Despite all of her threats of death and dismemberment, while looking at Arzokh—twisted, broken, and utterly defeated—I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt creep down my spine. She hadn’t always been like this. Five centuries of loss, pain, and torture had turned her into this thing … this monster.
No.
I stomped the doubt down—I needed to do what I needed to do. Not for me, but for all the people depending on me. For Abby and Forge, for Cutter and Amara, for Chief Kolle, the people of Yunnam, and all the players who refused to live under the heel of a dictator. This is the right thing, I told myself, not entirely sure I believed it. I fixed my gaze on the amulet—the size of a silver dollar and meticulously crafted from gold, bone, and jade—buzzing with dull life and ancient power. I pulled my warhammer from my belt, its hefty weight a comfort in my grip, and stalked over to the downed dragon.
Her lips pulled back in a grimace and ribbons of smoke drifted from her nostrils, but she didn’t act, didn’t move, didn’t speak. I was pretty sure she couldn’t—not in the horrendous shape she was in.
I wrapped my hand around the pendant and gave it a sharp tug.
I expected to find resistance, but it came away without a hitch as if it were eager to rejoin the rest of the set. The giant golden chain—formerly holding the pendant in place around Arzokh’s neck—shimmered and distorted, twisting and shrinking until it was exactly the right size for me. Amazing. I slipped it on with one trembling hand, feeling a surge of energy infuse my limbs, refreshing me better than a good night’s sleep ever could. More than that, though, I felt strong, unstoppable, almost godlike.
It was the power of the Jade Lord, a foretaste of the mantle of a king. Not a faction leader, but a monarch.
And it felt good.
Voices ripped me rudely from the moment—whoops of joy and cheers of victory as Abby, Forge, Cutter, Amara, Vlad, and even Chief Kolle streamed through the portal. They all looked ecstatic—understandably so. After all, I’d just brought low the mighty Sky Maiden and now I had the entire Jade Lord set in my possession. I’d done the impossible. Again.
“Bloody hell,” Cutter yelled, a lopsided grin breaking across his face. “I can't believe you pulled it off. And by that, I mean I was fully confident of your abilities the entire time.”
That earned a round of chuckles, followed by a chorus of “finish her.” Everyone seemed happy except Abby; she looked forlorn and marginally disgusted, but she didn’t voice a complaint.
My hammer was glowing, burning with spectral green light, and when I looked back at the Sky Maiden I was shocked to see her HP meter had plunged deeply into the critical zone—from the fall, no doubt. A single hit would finish her off, end this quest for good, and earn me the Blessing of the Jade Lord. I circled around to her front, raising my hammer, preparing to drive the spike into her skull and put her out of her misery. To annihilate her for good. As I stood there, the conquering hero, Arzokh shot me one last desperate look, and with it she offered me a peek into her heart and soul.
All her defiance was gone, stripped away, and all that remained was deep, unspoken grief and terrible acceptance: acceptance that this was finally the end.
An end devoid of justice or mercy.
She was a victim—her family killed and taken, her soul driven to madness by their eternal separation, and that act would go forever unpunished. I saw something else in her eyes, too: I saw myself, standing above her with the face of a stone-cold killer. In that instant, I looked an awful lot like the Jade Lord preparing to smash her eggs for the sake of his kingdom. Even more importantly, I resembled Osmark, making shady, unethical backroom deals, spurred on by the thought of the “greater good” and a hunger for personal power.
I turned away, unwilling to meet her eyes for a second longer as my conviction wavered like a candle flame in a stiff breeze.
This wasn’t right.
Maybe it was pragmatic, smart, and efficient, but it wasn’t the moral thing to do. This road led to victory, but victory at a steep and bloody price. The black handprint, branded into my skin by a dying Murk Elf so long ago, tingled and burned with icy power, a subtle reminder of how I’d gotten to here—not through the diplomacy of the sword, but through mercy. I’d helped that dying woman, even when Cutter suggested I scalp her for the price on her head, and it brought me to the path of the Shadowmancer.
That was who I was, and that was who I wanted to be. I was willing to be a leader, but I wasn’t willing to lose myself to do it. I dropped my weapon, letting it fall into the sand with a thunk.
“What’s the holdup, friend?” Cutter asked, eyebrow cocked, hands on his hips. “This is it. You’ve done it. Now finish it. Let’s unite the bloody Storme Marshes, dance a victory jig on the corpses of our enemies, then head back to Yunnam and drink until we can’t stand straight.”
“No,” I said with a shake of my head, pulling the crown off, followed in short order by the belt and the amulet. “Nope. This is wrong. We can’t do this. This creature”—I swept a hand at the downed and dying dragon—“isn’t evil. She’s the victim of a well-intentioned man who was willing to do bad things for what he believed to be good reasons. That’s who the Jade Lord was. And that’s also Osmark to a T. That’s what we’re fighting against. Maybe this stuff”—I lifted the items in my hands—“will help us defeat the Empire, but they’ll also help us become the new Empire.
“I’m sorry, but I won’t do this. It’s not enough to beat Osmark,” I said, “we need to be better than him. And this?” I glanced at the dragon huffing and puffing in the sand, only inches from death and utter annihilation. “This isn’t any better. So, I’m going to do the right thing. I’m going to side with a monster, who isn’t a monster.” I trudged out of the huge divot and over to the magma river burbling mindlessly along. I paused on the rocky bank, staring one last time at the priceless relics in my hands. God this was stupid.
I closed my eyes and tossed them all into the river of molten rock.
“This is for you, Priestess,” I whis
pered under my breath, opening my eyes and watching as the magma went to work. Chunks of bone sizzled, popped, and melted. The gold dissolved into orange slag. The fat jade stones disappeared beneath the surface.
In the span of seconds, the artifacts were gone, destroyed for good.
THIRTY-FOUR: Blessings and Curses
I heard a muted round of gasps—utter disbelief over the insane thing I’d just done. Those gasps faded and died quickly, though, replaced by murmurs of awe as Arzokh shuddered and rose into the air, held aloft by swirling streams of golden light like a thousand shimmering butterflies all working as one. I stared too, captivated as the ropes fell away and her limbs, so badly broken only moments before, popped and straightened while her neck twisted back into place, and her wings mended themselves—skin, muscle, and sinew knitting together in double speed.
The golden light didn’t just repair the appalling damage, however, it also changed her. Black skin flaked away, replaced by radiant scales the color of fresh grass, etched with swirling runes of pulsing golden power. The spikes running along her spine, like a forest of sword blades, shimmered, bubbled, and disappeared as a mane of lush golden hair sprouted, running from her serpentine head down along her graceful neck and all the way to the tip of her tail. Her wings—vast leathery appendages—likewise morphed, the dry, cracked flesh replaced with golden plumage that gleamed and shimmered in the light of the lava river.
Wow. She was beautiful. Breathtaking, even.
And then, she ascended. The swirls of golden light drew her up above the canyon, toward a swirling vortex suspended high above us in the air. The rift, easily a hundred feet in diameter, offered us a peek into a beautiful landscape filled with lush rolling fields, shimmering lakes, endless blue skies, and immense floating islands defying all the known laws of physics. Kuonela, the land of dragons. A host of serpentine faces stared down at us—little baby dragons flitting about in the air—but one stood out: a slick green creature, not much larger than Devil, with burnt-orange eyes and a host of violet feathers. Irrinth, the Sky Maiden’s mate.
