The griffins flew everywhere, left and right, above and below, encircling the three dragons. One rider seemed to lead the group; he wore a golden amulet shaped as five serpents coiled together, and his griffin wore a steel helmet emblazoned with the same sigil. He looked different than the other riders, probably of a different ethnicity. While the other riders were tall and platinum-haired, this man was shorter and thickset, his skin olive-toned, his eyes green, his hair and beard jet black.
"What are firedrakes from the Commonwealth doing in our waters?" the bearded man cried out. "This is the territory of the Horde. Turn back now, firedrakes! Back! We do not seek war with the Cured Temple."
Cade snorted and rolled his eyes. "Firedrakes? We're not firedrakes. Spirit's beard. We were fleeing the firedrakes!"
To demonstrate, Cade released his magic.
He fell through the sky, a human again.
As griffin riders gasped, Cade summoned his magic again, turned back into a dragon, and flew up to face the bearded griffin rider.
"You're Vir Requis," the man said, wonder in his voice.
Korvin flew up closer, eyes narrowed, smoke rising from his nostrils. "You've seen our kind before."
The man nodded upon his griffin. "I am Belas, a captain of the Horde. Come with me. You will find rest, water, and food . . . and then you will answer my questions."
The bearded captain waved his arm, then turned and began to fly back eastward. The other griffins followed, and the three dragons flew among them. The water turned a light blue and turquoise below; the sea here was shallower, warmer, full of life. After flying for another hour or two, Cade gasped.
"Islands!" he said. "Look, Fidelity. Islands!"
Flying at his side as a blue dragon, Fidelity frowned at him. "Yes, Cade. Just because I wear spectacles in human form doesn't mean my dragons eyes can't see . . ." She narrowed her eyes, staring forward, and puffed smoke out from her nostrils. "What islands?"
Cade groaned. "You really need a pair of giant dragon spectacles too, I think. Islands ahead! Big ones. Well, three big ones and a bunch of little ones, all covered in trees."
Fidelity squinted, then stared at him. "Are you pulling my leg?"
Korvin flew up to them. "He speaks truth. Here before us—and you'll see them soon as we fly closer, Fidelity—are the islands of Old Leonis, the fallen realm of griffins."
Fidelity gasped. "Leonis! I read about Leonis. Thousands of years ago, griffins ruled this land. They fought a war with Requiem, and many died on both sides. I hadn't thought any griffins still lived. My books said that General Cadigus, a cruel Vir Requis who betrayed Requiem, slew them all."
"Well, we're flying among a bunch of them now," Cade said. "You can see them, right?"
She glowered and slapped him with her tail. "I can see them fine, Cade, and I can see you well enough to slap you senseless, so watch your tongue. Obviously some griffins survived, and obviously they serve the Horde now." She sighed wistfully. "I've always wanted to see the Horde."
Korvin grunted. "You wouldn't speak so wistfully of the Horde if you had faced them in war, as I have. The islands of Leonis are now an outpost of the Horde, and their denizens might hold Vir Requis little love. Be on guard."
They flew closer, and soon even Fidelity saw the islands and gasped with wonder. Cliffs of chalk and limestone soared from the water, leading to peaks lush with trees. Countless birds flew over these patches of rainforest, and several griffins circled higher above, riders upon their backs. A flag unfurled on a stone mountaintop on the largest island, displaying five serpents intertwined.
Flying on his griffin, Belas led them to this island, and Cade saw that its crest was flat, and that a great square of land had been carved out from the forest. Something halfway between a town and a military camp rose here. Flying above, Cade saw hundreds of wooden huts, palisades of sharpened logs, and even a brick fortress upon an earthen motte. Thousands of people bustled about, and they seemed to have come from many lands: some had golden skin and platinum hair, others were pale and dressed in cotton, and some people wore white robes over olive skin. Several griffins stood in the field, cawing and feeding from troughs.
The dragons and their griffin companions began to descend, moving closer to the camp. A shimmer of light caught Cade's eye, and he gasped.
"Fidelity, look!" he said. "Can you see them?"
She stared down, squinting. "What? I can only see smudges."
"They're . . . dragons. I think. I'm not sure. They're not like us."
Several long, reptilian creatures were moving about the camp, hovering several feet above the ground. They had no wings, and Cade couldn't figure out how they floated. They were longer than dragons, he saw—probably a good hundred feet along—but narrow. Scales covered them, shimmering as if made from precious metals. They reminded Cade of snakes swimming upon water. Their eyes were like crystal orbs, and beards hung from their chins.
When Cade described them to Fidelity—she could see no more than the shimmer of their scales—she gasped. "Those are salvanae!" she said. "Mythical true dragons from the west! Unlike Vir Requis, they have no human forms."
"Like firedrakes?" Cade asked.
She shook her head, scattering the smoke that rose from her mouth. "No. Firedrakes used to have human forms; they were Vir Requis once . . . before the Temple broke them. Salvanae are very ancient beings, very wise. In the old days, we Vir Requis called them true dragons. But my books said they all died out centuries ago."
"So much for your books," Cade said. "Griffins and sylvanis—"
"Salvanae," she corrected him.
"—and salvanae. In one day." He gave her a crooked grin. "Maybe flying out into the real world will teach you more than any of those dusty old books."
Korvin flew between them and sneered at Cade. "Dusty old books we cherished. Books that we lost because of you. Now silence, boy."
Belas and his griffins dived down to a clearing in the camp—a circle of earth between many huts. The three Vir Requis glided down with them, and they all landed, claws and talons raising clouds of dust. The griffin riders dismounted and their mounts flew off, and the Vir Requis released their magic, returning to human form.
Cade stared around him with wide eyes.
"I'm standing right in the Horde," he whispered in awe.
Countless people moved all around him. Soldiers in bronze breastplates, the metal forged to mimic their muscles, dueled in the dirt, swords clanging. Other men worked at skinning wild boars, slicing up the meat, and tanning the leather. A few blacksmiths worked in the open, hammering on spearheads and swords. Children scampered underfoot, laughing. A burly giant of a man lumbered by, covered in hair, drinking from a tankard and grumbling; Cade barely reached the man's chest. Scales flashed as a salvana coiled by, hovering several feet aboveground. Cade had to leap back to avoid the true dragon knocking him down. The wooden huts rose all around, and archers stood on the stone fortress a few hundred yards away. Farther back, surrounding the camp like walls, the forest swayed, rich with the song of birds, the call of monkeys, and the rustling of leaves.
"I never imagined so many strange people," Cade whispered. "The Horde is massive."
Belas scratched his beard and barked a laugh. "This is only an outpost, son. The true Horde in the south is hundreds of times the size. We are but guardians of the sea, protectors of—"
A shout rose behind them, interrupting him.
"Stars damn it, you maggoty sack of puke! You owe me five conches. Five! I beat you fair and square, and if you don't pay up, I'm going to shove my hand down your throat, grab your bollocks, and tug them out of your mouth."
Cade turned around, and his eyes widened so much he thought they might pop out.
A woman stood a few yards away, clutching the collar of a young, terrified-looking man. She shook him wildly as she shouted. She seemed to be about a dozen years older than Cade, and a couple of inches taller too. She wore brown trousers, tall black boots, and a tan vest.
Her yellow hair was short—just long enough to fall over her ears—and damp with sweat. Her brown eyes flashed as she shook the man.
"You cheated, Amity!" said the man in her grip, struggling to shake her off. "Nobody got such luck with dice, and—"
"Pay now," Amity said, "or I'll dump your flea-ridden corpse into the sea. I—"
"Amity!" Belas turned toward her, his face reddening. "Leave him alone."
The tall, golden-haired woman spun toward Belas, still holding the young man's collar. "Belas! Your son here lost a game of dice, and if the damn goat-shagger doesn't pay, I—"
"Did you cheat?" Belas demanded.
Amity's cheeks flushed. She loosened her grip on the young man. "Well, of course I did." She spat. "Everyone cheats at dice, and—"
"Then let him go," Belas said, "and get your arse over here. We got guests."
Amity groaned, shoved the young man away, and gave his backside a swift kick as he fled the scene. She spat again and wiped her hands against her pants.
"I don't care about no guests." She glared at Belas. "And if you talk about my arse again, I'm going to chop off your manhood and wear it around my neck on a chain."
Cade watched all this with wide eyes. He leaned toward Fidelity—the young librarian was blushing—and whispered into her ear, "Blimey, I love the way they talk here. I'd take the Horde over prim priests and paladins any day."
Amity stomped toward them, grumbling under her breath, and swiped back locks of damp hair from her forehead. She stared at Korvin, then at Fidelity, and finally at Cade. She let her gaze linger on him, and a crooked smile touched her lips.
"What's a matter, kid?" she said. "Your jaw's hanging almost down to your bollocks."
Cade gulped and quickly closed his mouth. He tried to feign nonchalance. "I'm not used to seeing . . ." Women as tall and foul-mouthed? Women as dangerously and intoxicatingly gorgeous? Women who made his blood boil? ". . . griffins," he finished lamely.
Belas stepped forward, blessedly interrupting his embarrassment. "Amity," the bearded captain said, "we found the three flying over the sea toward us. Fleeing the firedrakes. Yes, flying. They were dragons when we found them." He lowered his voice. "Vir Requis."
Amity whipped her head toward him, then back to Korvin, Cade, and Fidelity.
"Bollocks," she said and spat, but Cade noticed that her breath had quickened, that her fingers were trembling.
Belas snorted. "If you hadn't been beating the shite out of my boy, you'd have seen them fly in." He turned toward the three. "A little display?"
Korvin, who had remained silent until now, let out a grumble. "We're not performing monkeys. Belas, I thank you for leading us here. Now if you will shelter us, we. . ."
The gruff man's voice died.
Cade's jaw hung loose once more.
Even Fidelity gasped, covered her mouth, and had to rub her spectacles on her shirt and stare again.
Standing before them, Amity shifted into a red dragon.
"So," the dragon said, fire crackling inside her mouth, "you three want to prove to me that I'm not alone in the world?"
"Another Vir Requis," Fidelity whispered, tears in her eyes.
Cade shifted first, a little embarrassed to find himself shorter than Amity even in dragon form. Korvin and Fidelity followed. The dragons stood together in the camp, staring at one another silently.
It was Cade who broke the silence, speaking the only word he could, the only word that mattered.
"Requiem."
Amity grinned toothily and slapped him with her tail. "You got it, kid."
DOMI
Domi had never been more exhausted in her life. As she flew westward across the sea, heading back toward the Commonwealth, she thought she would lose her magic, plunge down into the water, and drown with Mercy on her back.
Perhaps I should fall and take her down with me, she thought.
All around them, firedrakes were flying back home, panting, weary, dipping in the sky and rising only as their paladins spurred them onward. She spotted Lord Gemini, Mercy's younger brother, riding a burly copper firedrake called Felesar. The paladin whipped the firedrake again and again as it huffed.
One firedrake finally fell and crashed into the sea, dead with exhaustion. Another firedrake had to dive, lift the floundering paladin, and bear two men on its back. Domi envied the fallen firedrake. She too wanted to lie under the sea, to let the pain end.
Mercy kept shouting on her back, digging her spurs again and again into Domi's tenderspots. When Domi could not fly faster, the paladin swung her lightning lash, and pain exploded across Domi, urging her onward. The paladin was wrathful, perhaps more than she'd ever been.
"You let them escape, you miserable little beast," Mercy shouted, digging and twisting her spurs in Domi's flesh. "We had the weredragons surrounded at the library, and you let them go."
The whip hit Domi again, crackling with lightning, and she yowled.
Domi closed her eyes as she flew, bringing back the memory. Flying over the library with the other firedrakes, she had been so afraid. She had been sure that Mercy would slay her father, her sister, and Cade. The foolish boy had been spotted. He had left the corpses of paladins on his way to the city. He had spoken to paladins in the city itself, leaving a trail Mercy had easily followed . . . riding Domi all the while.
I had to knock the other firedrakes aside, Domi thought. I had to. I had to let them escape.
She wondered if Mercy knew that Domi had done so on purpose, if she suspected that Domi was not simply a clumsy firedrake, a mindless reptile.
"You stupid, sniveling lizard!" Mercy shouted, whipping her again.
Good. Let her think I'm stupid, nothing but a stupid firedrake. May she never learn the truth . . . that I let my own family escape on purpose. That I too am Vir Requis. That I hide a human soul deep under my scales.
Domi lowered her head. What had her father and sister thought? Had they realized that she had tried to protect them, or did they just see her as a traitor, the Vir Requis who served the paladins who hunt her very people?
"Faster!" Mercy cried, digging her spurs again, and Domi flew on.
Domi did not think she could make it to the shore alive, yet finally the firedrakes saw the coast of the Commonwealth again. The towers and steeples of Sanctus rose ahead. With their last breaths, the firedrakes made for the city. They flew over the warships in the port, nearly crashing into their masts, and finally made it past the piers to the boardwalk. Here the firedrakes crashed down onto the cobblestones—not far from the ruined library—and collapsed.
Mercy leaped off the saddle, turned toward the port, and began shouting orders.
"Ships! All warships—ready to sail!"
Sailors ran forth, and Mercy shouted, and rowboats began approaching from the warships. As the boardwalk bustled, Domi and the other firedrakes lay sprawled across the cobblestones, breathing raggedly. Domi was so weary it took all her effort to cling to her dragon magic; she felt close to losing that magic to her exhaustion, returning to human form here in the paladins' sight.
Just cling on a little longer, she told herself. Just breathe the next few breaths.
She lay on the searing-hot cobblestones, the sun baking her, watching the preparations. Troops from the city fortress came marching onto the boardwalk; there they entered rowboats and oared toward several warships that anchored in the port. The ships were massive brigantines, large enough to hold hundreds of men each. Mercy chose a group of firedrakes—Domi breathed out in relief when she wasn't chosen—to fly over and land on the ships' decks.
"We will find the weredragons, and we will butcher them!" Mercy was shouting from the boardwalk. "We will skin them alive and make trophies of their skulls!"
As soldiers cheered, rowing toward the brigantines, Domi closed her eyes.
I can't do this anymore, she thought. I can't keep serving them.
If she escaped, Domi knew that she would not live long. Wild firedrakes rarely lived
for more than a year or two; the Cured Temple mercilessly hunted and butchered any firedrakes who escaped captivity. And Domi did not even want to consider hiding as a human; what kind of life was that, living as a weak girl, crushed under the Temple's heel? A despair began to grow in her. Perhaps she could escape overseas, join the Horde, find a home there—though stories whispered that the Horde was even more ruthless than the Temple, that its warriors drank the blood of children and tortured women for sport. Perhaps there was no home for Domi in the world anymore. Perhaps all she could do was rise as a dragon, blow her fire, and burn as many of these paladins and soldiers as she could before they shot her down.
A hand touched her snout, and a voice spoke softly. "Dearest Pyre . . . you're exhausted."
Domi opened her eyes to see Gemini staring at her. The firedrake he had ridden during the chase, old Felesar, now stood upon the deck of a warship, prepared to sail out east on a new hunt. It looked like Gemini was staying behind this time.
Domi grunted and blasted out a puff of smoke.
"Little Pyre." Gemini stroked her. "I rode Felesar over the sea, but as I rode him, I thought of you. I pretended that I was the one straddling you, digging my spurs into your tenderspots, whipping you onward with my lash. You are the finest of firedrakes." He knelt, stared into her eyes, and planted a kiss upon her snout. "I love you, my Pyre."
Domi gave a little gurgle. She stared at the young man—his high cheekbones, his strange blue eyes, the white hair that grew from the right side of his head. She could not understand this paladin, second born of the High Priestess. Sometimes he beat her, shouted at her, called her worthless, yet at other times he seemed to love her as a man loves a pet—even as a man loves a woman. She was tempted to snap her jaws and rip him apart, confused by his cruelty and tenderness.
"Brother!" Mercy's cry rose nearby. Domi turned to see the heiress marching forward, face suffused with rage. "This miserable beast has outlived her usefulness. I'll be taking Felesar to be my new mount. I want Pyre put down."
Dragons Lost Page 11
