Wildmane
Page 44
“Was your crime so horrible...” Avakketh echoed the words. “If you understood what you have done...” His eyes flickered with a dark fire. “Loving a human is, in fact, a crime. A spine horse should not mate with a rat. It makes you low, a pitiable thing. But that crime I can overlook, distasteful as it is. What I can’t ignore is your threat to dragonkind.”
“A threat, my lord? In what way have I threatened—”
“Dragons were meant to think, Randorus, to create, to rule this world my sister Natra and I created. Your kind earned their ability to think. Humans, aath trees, whales, equines, all these were given sentience by Natra. They didn’t earn it; they don’t deserve it. Fine. I was willing to abide Natra’s undeserved gift, but when humans first wielded GodSpill, I knew it had gone too far. This was something Natra never intended, and I waited too long to destroy them. They created Daylan’s Fountain, an aberration that twisted the natural order of this world, tearing into the fabric of the great tapestry. This is what I call a threat, Randorus. Humans must be destroyed.”
Bands’s mind raced. If he wanted to destroy humans, why hadn’t he done it? And how had she betrayed him? Avakketh said her true crime wasn’t loving Medophae, then what was? Bands had been gone for over three hundred years. She couldn’t have been a threat to anything, even if she wanted to.
And Avakketh had been waiting. Why? If he wanted humans eliminated, why hadn’t he done anything? These past three centuries, humans were at their weakest. They had stopped reading, stopped accumulating knowledge, stopped creating. Tarithalius, the god of humans, was trapped in a gemstone. Even the threadweavers had been slain by Harleath Markin’s grand mistake. There was nothing that could possibly stop Avakketh. There was nothing...
It all came together in a rush. Medophae. Avakketh was afraid of Medophae. And then she realized the trap hadn’t been to punish her. The ruby Ethiel wielded had been meant to capture Medophae and Tarithalius, the two protectors of humankind, the only two who might be strong enough to fight Avakketh. But Bands had pushed Medophae out of the way. She had taken his place.
Avakketh nodded, as though he could see her piecing it together. “Do you understand now?”
“I saved him,” she said.
“You did. You also brought him upon us,” Avakketh said. “Your wandering took you to the isle of Dandere, where mortals of the blood of Oedandus could be found. You brought him to Amarion, where he could mix with his god and become what he is.”
“But that was good,” she protested. “He killed Dervon, who you despised. Dervon’s creations killed hundreds of dragons.”
“Dervon was a god. Medophae is some stripling human. Did you really think I would condone a human killing one of my family, no matter how much I hated him?”
Bands couldn’t find her breath. Finally, she managed. “Then why wait at all? You’re going to have to face him eventually.”
“Humans were devolving. If they were to take the path of the senseless equines, so be it. But now, they won’t. They have set the GodSpill free again, and I cannot allow human threadweavers to return.”
Bands’s heart thumped painfully in her chest. She cursed herself for a fool that she had come north. She knew what must be coming next. As her lord and god, he would demand her assistance, her obedience. Bands would submit or he was going to kill her. He’d never let her leave Irgakth without knowing she was on his side.
“It is time for you to atone for your crimes,” Avakketh said.
“Please,” she said. “They’re not what you think. We don’t have to kill them. Will you at least let me report what I have learned about humans in my time among them—”
“Your hubris is galling. I know everything I need to know about humans.”
“My lord—”
“This is what you will do,” Avakketh said. “You will go to Medophae. You will take him on a journey over the True Ocean, back to the isle of Dandere where Oedandus cannot reach him, and then you will kill his mortal form and all the humans who live there, ending Oedandus’s line forever. If you succeed in this, then you can return to Irgakth or Amarion, whichever pleases you, and you may live the rest of your days with my blessing once again.”
Kill Medophae. Kill all the humans in Amarion. She looked around at the faces on the ledges. She didn’t see any remorse there. Was this what dragonkind had come to?
“Are we completely without compassion for lives other than our own?” she asked, looking farther, turning all the way around, this time looking directly at her parents. And there, she saw what she needed to see. Their scaly faces were tight, eyes narrowed as if readying to fly into an ice storm. They had braced for this moment; they had come to peace with the notion that Avakketh was going to bend their daughter’s back—or break it.
They’re going to kill me. He knows I can’t possibly do that to Medophae. This is his way of passing a death sentence. When I refuse, he’ll destroy me.
She had to run, but he would have prepared for that. Even if Avakketh couldn’t pull the air from her wings, grounding her, or smash her with air that had suddenly become hard as stone, or just steal the breath from her lungs until she suffocated, even if he couldn’t do all these things, there were three white dragons on the dais, hunched and ready to leap on her. She glanced around.
And let’s not forget the hundreds of other dragons, many of whom might love the chance to please their lord by slaughtering a traitor.
The irony of it made her heart ache. She had waited four hundred years to be reunited with her beloved. Now she was free, and instead of going to his side, she had chosen to come here. Fool.
She raised her chin. She would face her death with dignity, though. He wouldn’t hear her plead.
“You’re making a mistake,” she said. “The humans aren’t your enemies, but you’re going to make them your enemies by...” She trailed off. There was a human perched on the edge of the half dome over Avakketh’s head, one leg cocked up, one dangling over the hundred foot drop. It was Tarithalius!
Miraculously, none of the other dragons had noticed him up there, simply watching the proceedings, and she forced her gaze back to Avakketh, tried to continue her train of thought. What had she been saying?
“...you’ll make them your enemies,” she stammered. “By...by attacking them. Why not just...” She flicked a glance upward. Thalius held up a hand like he was waving, five fingers splayed. As she watched, he folded one finger down. Then another. Then another.
Five...four...three...two...one...
Bands leapt into the air with every ounce of strength she possessed. It was a bad idea to rely on Tarithalius. He was capricious. But she had a split second to choose to be part of his plan, whatever it was. And, she had to face it, it was the only plan available.
Her leap took her eye level with Avakketh, and time seemed to slow as their gazes met. His lips pulled back in a snarl, and he gestured even as she spread her wings. He was going to pull the air away from her, or break her wings. She felt the threads around her bend, but then another force took hold of them and bent them back. Her wings didn’t break. When she pushed against the air, it pushed back with a ferocious gust.
Bands shot into the sky, whipping past Tarithalius, who winked at her, then vanished.
The three white dragon elites leapt after, pumping around the half dome, struggling to get airborne...
...then dropped like stones. If Bands wasn’t so scared, she would have laughed to see the elite three looking like felled pigeons, struggling to untangle their limbs. But gloating could cost her her life.
Still, one of them let loose a jet of fire as he fell. Bands spun, but it hit her wing. She yanked it in, wincing. She couldn’t afford to lose her advantage, though. She unfurled it and rode the ferocious gust, leaving the amphitheater behind, which erupted into roars of surprise and anger.
The elites were the fastest flyers among dragonkind. Whatever Tarithalius had done, Avakketh would undo it in a moment, and the chase would begin.
The crags neared, and she fell toward the first deep crack in the earth like a spear, not daring to look back for fear of losing even a fraction of a second. She dove deep, then began navigating.
She dipped her burned wing and cut the wind as hard as she dared. The wing was injured and, if it split, she was done for. She whipped around the edge of the spire, whispered three words and pulled the necessary threads. The GodSpill was not as strong in Irgakth as it was in Amarion. It made threadweaving more difficult. Her muscles trembled and her joints creaked with the strain, but the threads of the wind shoved her the extra few inches, and she plunged into the ravine without hitting the wall.
Another spire of stone whipped by her. Her claws brushed it, dislodging bits of lava rock that fell into the bottomless crack. She tucked her wings and dove again. Air whistled past her. She unfurled her wings, pulling another hard turn through the meandering trench.
Spying a cave below, she dove one last time. The cave was dark, and she plunged into it at full flight. She whispered, using threadweaving again to stop herself before she slammed into the back wall. She swung around, her tail smashing into a trio of stalagmites, reducing them to jagged rubble.
Just outside the cave, she heard a whoosh of air beneath another set of wings. Damn! The elites were so fast. Another second, and whichever elite had caught her would have leapt on her back.
The white, horned head dipped low, peering into the cave. It was Zynderilifakyz. Zynder was an amazing flyer; of course he had caught her first. But the others would be close behind.
Bands lunged toward the cave’s entrance. She only had one chance. She must make it convincing. She whispered words, guiding her focus as she manipulated the threads...
...and vanished.
Zynder blasted the cave with his fiery breath, melting the rough rock until the ceiling dripped onto the floor. Dragons were practically immune to fire, but dragon breath was equipped with a hint of acid. It stripped protections like scales, seeking the tender flesh beneath.
His bright white eyes narrowed to tight slits against the heat, dropping to the lip of the cave.
Zynder entered the melting cavern, checking everywhere. He swiveled his long neck left and right. He even turned and looked behind him into the gloomy expanse of the lava trench.
“You defy the law of our lord,” Zynder said in his smooth, strong voice. “Any true dragon would gladly die for him, but not you. You have been so badly infected by the humans that you would rather run.”
Bands said nothing; she didn’t move.
“What manner of creature are you, Randorus Ak-nin Ackli Forckandor?” Zynder spoke her full name. His whip-like tongue flicked across the air. “You are not a true dragon. But you are not a human, either. You hide from your betters and pretend to be something so far below your station, our lord must revoke the life that he once gave to you. You sicken us all.”
I have learned more than you in my travels, Zynder. Avakketh did not give us life. Natra did. Avakketh does not create.
“Avakketh has shown you more mercy than you deserve.” Zynder paused. “I will give you one chance to do the right thing, Randorus. Show yourself. Accept your lord’s judgment and pass through the Godgate with honor.”
There is no honor in genocide. The honorable path is to fight Avakketh before he wipes out an entire race.
A second of the elites arrived with a powerful flapping of wings. She hovered at the edge of the cave.
“Zynder,” the huge white dragon called. “Did you dispatch her?”
He looked up at the new arrival. “No,” he rumbled through his teeth. “She has the mean cunning of a rat. She used some spell to transport herself away.”
The second dragon rumbled. “Avakketh will be disappointed.”
“How did she blunt his spell?” Zynder snapped his teeth in frustration. His scaly lips pulled back to bare his teeth. His white eyes shone malevolently. “How did she do that?”
“She humiliated him. And we have failed our lord.”
“If he requires my life as punishment, I will gladly give it,” Zynder said.
“As will I.”
“She only has one place to go,” he continued. “She must return to the human lands, and we will find her there.”
The elite showed her teeth.
“I will take my retribution,” he said.
He launched himself powerfully into the air. He and the elite began flying back to the amphitheater.
With the wind whipping past him, he did not notice Bands. Avakketh considered the form of a dragon to be the best form in the world. Stooping to take on the form of another was beneath them all. So Zynder didn’t even notice the tiny black dragon beetle Bands had become. She let go of the back of his neck and fell out of sight into the trench, opening her flicking wings and flying south.
She had hoped to spend a hundred years forgetting her beloved. She had hoped to give him time with his lovely human woman, Mirolah.
But she was going to have to break that promise. Medophae had to be protected. The humans had to be warned.
Contents
Map of Amarion
Map Detail
Pronunciation Guide
Prologue
1. Mirolah
2. Medophae
3. Medophae
4. Mirolah
5. Medophae
6. Zilok Morth
7. Tyndiria
8. Medophae
9. Mirolah
10. Mirolah
11. Medophae
12. Tyndiria
13. Medophae
14. Zilok Morth
15. Mirolah
16. Mirolah
17. Mirolah
18. Mirolah
19. Zilok Morth
20. Tyndiria
21. Medophae
22. Medophae
23. Mirolah
24. Mirolah
25. Medophae
26. Mirolah
27. Orem
28. Vaerdaro
29. Mirolah
30. Mirolah
31. Mirolah
32. Silasa
33. Orem
34. Mirolah
35. Mirolah
36. Mirolah
37. Medophae
38. Mirolah
39. Mirolah
40. Zilok Morth
41. Medophae
42. Mirolah
43. Mirolah
44. Mirolah
45. Silasa
46. Mirolah
47. Mirolah
48. Mirolah
49. Medophae
50. Mirolah
51. Vaerdaro
52. Mirolah
53. Zilok Morth
54. Mirolah
55. Medophae
56. Mirolah
57. Ethiel
58. Mirolah
59. Silasa
60. Zilok Morth
61. Silasa
62. Mirolah
63. Medophae
64. Zilok Morth
65. Medophae
66. Medophae
67. Mirolah
68. Mirolah
69. Mirolah
70. Zilok Morth
71. Mirolah
72. Mirolah
73. Orem
74. Medophae
Epilogue
Reader Letter
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Todd Fahnestock
Excerpt from The GodSpill, Book 2 of the Threadweaver Series
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