“… Follow me…”
#
At the northern edge of Rendif, Garr stood ready, Grustim astride his back. Ever since the attack that had compelled the king to seek the help of the Chosen, the town had been home to triple its normal complement of guards and soldiers. They stood at the ready, eyes turned to the north. Grustim had done his best to prepare them for what was to come, but working as he was through an interpreter, he suspected the urgency and scope of his warnings were not conveyed with the gravity they deserved. No matter. Words alone could never prepare them for the battle ahead. An elder dragon, a thing he’d only read of in his training as a Dragon Rider. And a golem, a thing he’d never even heard of. If he and Garr survived the day, it would be a testament to their conditioning, and more than that, to their good fortune.
Garr rumbled and lowered his head. Around him, the elves were beginning to stir. From his perch atop the dragon, it took Grustim a moment longer to realize. The ground was quaking. It was subtle and rhythmic, like the beating of a heart. More accurately, it was like massive, plodding footsteps. The golem was not yet in view, but if they could feel it already, it must have been enormous.
“There,” Grustim called, pointing.
All eyes turned to follow his gesture. A form in the sky was approaching. Both dragon and Dragon Rider knew at first glance it was Myn. It did not bode well that she was returning while the golem still moved.
“Remain here, and remain alert,” Grustim called. “That, at least, is an ally. I shall meet her and see what news she carries.”
“No…” rumbled a voice.
The voice was powerful and deep, loud enough to be right in front of them, but seeming to come from thin air. A moment later, the air shimmered and a mystic veil wafted away. Standing before them, near enough for them to feel the heat of his smoldering breath, was Boviss. For the first time since he’d earned a Dragon Rider, Garr had to look up to meet the gaze of his foe. Boviss wore the same permanent sinister grin, but his teeth were separated slightly, making the horrid expression seem wider and more demented. His eyes gleamed with anticipation. He was a creature who wanted nothing less than blood, and his thirst for it was unquenchable.
“Do not go. I want you here. A trained dragon. So curious to me. Will it be more of a challenge? Or have the humans ruined you?” Boviss rumbled.
Though they did their best to keep their composure, a ripple of palpable fear spread through the elven soldiers. Boviss was so much larger, so much more powerful than even Grustim had prepared himself for. That they’d not turned tail and run proved the elves had a greater fortitude than the Dragon Rider had given them credit for.
For a moment, Boviss remained where he was, sweeping his eyes across the row of soldiers, selecting where his meal would begin. Grustim took that time to train his eyes on Boviss’s back, searching for the rider. He knew better than anyone that killing a dragon’s rider would do little good. Garr and his fellow mounts would fight on long after their Dragon Riders had fallen if the mission or their own whims demanded it. This was an elder dragon. That he allowed himself a rider at all was unimaginable. He would not be here if he did not wish to be. In that way, the rider was meaningless. But the magic that had concealed him? That was the work of the rider. Even Grustim’s untrained mind could sense that. If such magic was at his disposal, knowing where the rider was and what he or she was doing could be the difference between life and death. Alas, the rider must have been mindful of this as well. While Boviss was revealed in all of his terrible glory, the rider remained a flickering, half-visible form, still obscured by magic.
For seconds, all remained still but for the sweeping predatory gaze of the massive dragon. When the stalemate was broken, it was by a single archer of the elven force. He released an arrow that hissed toward the elder dragon’s eye. The beast twitched aside, causing the arrow to slice a shallow divot out of his armored cheek, then locked his eyes on the archer responsible. With that, the battle that had hung threateningly in the air descended all at once. Garr launched himself into the air. Arrows flew, thick and rapid. Boviss charged forward and belched flame across the field. Soldiers scattered and raised their shields. Had they been any slower, the whole row of them would have been a pile of ash. The heart of the flame baked the earth to a glassy black char. Those nearest to its curling fringe had to dive to the ground for fellow soldiers to smother the flames.
Garr looped downward and delivered a blast of flame of his own along Boviss’s back. The flickering image of the rider rolled aside. With an elder dragon as a mount, he had room to leap and dodge without ever leaving the creature’s back. The magic that hid him made it confounding to track and target him. Shimmering afterimages lingered for fractions of a second after he moved. Garr’s flames, potent though they were, barely darkened the scales of the larger dragon’s back. Fire alone would do no damage to the creature at all. Dozens of archers firing hundreds of arrows made the air around Boviss too dangerous for Garr to venture near enough for an attack with tooth or claw. Though many of the exquisitely made arrows met their marks, most shattered and fell away. The peerless elf-made arrows barely bit deeply enough into the dragon’s scales to stick. It was no use. With the weapons available, they may as well have been throwing pebbles. Their only hope was to target his weakest points and try to last long enough to wear him down.
Boviss slashed his claws and breathed flame in sweeping swaths until the archers were too scattered to give him anything meaningful to target. He may as well have been a cat losing interest in the mouse he’d been batting about. Instead, he looked to Garr as he circled above and harried him with flame. Grustim held tightly to Garr’s back as he saw their target’s eyes lock on to them. A dragon with many targets could be evaded. A dragon with a single target was another matter entirely. Now that he and Garr had Boviss’s dedicated attention, the end could come with a single slash of his tail or snap of his jaws. Together, they were too inviting a target. Grustim leaned low.
“Lead him from the town. Whatever it takes, keep him from moving south,” the Dragon Rider instructed.
Garr rumbled in reply and hooked sharply around a column of flame hurled in his direction. Grustim took the moment and leaped from Garr’s back, sword in hand. He came down hard upon Boviss’s neck. The elder dragon growled in anger and reached up with his iron claw to rake at the unwanted rider, but Grustim nimbly evaded, sliding down the jagged scales of the beast’s neck. He charged at the flickering form of Boviss’s rider. Above him, Garr took full advantage of the distraction and slashed at Boviss’s face.
Grustim trusted his mount to do his job. He had his own target to worry about. The scaly hide beneath his feet quaked and shifted as Boviss spread his wings in pursuit of Garr. Though he had been trained since childhood to navigate the sky by dragonback, he had never had to cope with a beast of this size, and one so rigidly dedicated to Grustim’s death. The ground dropped away. He gripped a craggy split in one of Boviss’s scales tightly with his gauntleted hand. If he fell, Garr would not be able to catch him. Before him, moving with a confounding sureness of step, the flickering rider approached.
“I know what you are,” Grustim said. “I have seen your home and your people.”
“And for that, you must die,” Reyce replied, his voice ghostly and at the edge of hearing. “For my people to be safe, others must know only fear for what lurks to the north.”
The obscured form rushed at him, but Grustim rolled aside, keeping his grip with one hand and raising his sword in a preemptive block. A half-seen weapon thumped against his. A follow-up attack might have met its target, but Boviss pitched to the side to lash at Garr, and in doing so, nearly dumped Reyce from his back. Grustim used the moment Reyce took to recover to gain more solid footing. If victory was possible, this would be how it would be achieved. The malthrope was swifter, more agile, and had magic at his command, but Grustim had more experience doing battle while clinging to the back of a dragon. It wasn’t sure to even the odds,
but it was the best he could hope for.
#
Far away near the center of the isthmus, Ether stood at the ready. She was in her human form, as she’d become familiar with and comfortable enough in that form to expend very little effort to remain in such a state. This freed a greater proportion of her focus to scan the surrounding countryside for their prey. She knew their targets would help them soon, but for now they had to linger midway between Rendif and Twilus, both of which had targets and either of which could be the first to need defending. She was aware of the battle going on to the east. She could feel the power of the foes her friends battled. But this was not her first battle. It had taken longer than it should have, but she understood that even when circumstances seemed dire, the other Chosen often knew how best to divide their assets. That did not, however, make it simple to stand idle while she knew others were fighting.
In one hand, she held a small bundle of twine cut into short lengths, the threads prepared by Deacon. The other was clenched into a fist as she did her best to set aside the urge to hurl herself into the distant fray. Shah hung in the air before her, darting to and fro, scrutinizing Ether from all angles.
“You look so human, but you are not human,” Shah said.
“That is correct,” Ether said.
“You can take any form. Even the form of wind.”
“That is correct…” Ether said, her patience already nearing its end.
“That must be wonderful…” Shah said, twirling about. “We fairies already feel as one with the wind, but to be the wind…”
“I have a task, fairy. It will be trying enough without your distraction.”
“Yes. Yes, you are right.”
Shah flitted up and stood upon Ether’s shoulder, face serious and eyes scanning. Now and again her wings stirred the air. To a casual observer, it may have seemed like an idle motion, but Ether could feel a weak swirl of magic each time she did. It was more akin to a scent hound stirring up the dust to catch a better scent.
“You are dedicated to this task.”
“Yes I am, Ms. Ether.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s what we must do.”
“But it is not your task. If I understand correctly, to the elves you are merely a tool. And a tool not intended for this task.”
“I’m not doing it for them,” Shah said.
“Surely you do not owe your allegiance to Myranda.”
“She’s a lot nicer than them. I’d rather listen to her than them. She’s a friend of the fairies.”
Ether shook her head. “Myranda seems to have no trouble gathering new allies…”
“She’s nice. And she does good things for the right reason,” Shah said. “I haven’t really had the choice to do anything since I volunteered to be a messenger. It’s nice to be able to decide to do something nice.”
“Even if it means risking your life? And fighting against your own?”
“Myn and Garr will fight other dragons for what’s good. And they are friends of the fairies. I think, if you know what you are doing is right, and you know what someone else is doing is wrong, then sometimes you have to go against them. Even if they are like you.”
“So you help us in this simply because you are permitted to choose, and you wish to make the moral choice?”
“I suppose.”
“You do not fight for glory? For wealth?”
Shah shook her head. “After this, I just want to go home to my grove.”
“I imagine you find fulfillment in your family, as so many—”
“Ms. Ether, now you are the one who is being distracting.”
Ether’s expression hardened. She tightened her grip around the twine.
“And please be careful with those strings,” Shah said. “Mr. Deacon worked very hard on them, and we will need them if we want to do our job.”
“I will not be lectured by a fairy. I have existed—”
She stopped suddenly, and both she and Shah turned to the east. There was nothing to see, but fairy and shapeshifter alike knew that there was something there.
“I felt it. The way the air moved. There is a fairy there. Only a fairy moves the air like that,” Shah said.
“Yes. It is time.”
Ether shifted to wind. Once immersed in the element that formed her, she could feel every motion that stirred it, like the whiskers of a cat brushing against a doorway. The fairy, reading the breeze with her wings, followed the same clues. A single but very definite curl of wind told the tale of a fairy darting to the south. Ether launched forward, dragging along the bundle of twine. Behind her, Shah rode the currents Ether stirred up. Ahead, a tight point of focused wind swirled about a tiny, unseen form skimming low to the ground. The first of the fairy assassins.
She was heading east, to the city of Rendif. The D’Karon magic must have not only hidden her but also given her speed, as she was streaking at an astounding speed. Ether had to work to keep pace, and if not for her ability to hitch a ride, Shah would have fallen behind. Ether gathered her will and tore across the sky. By the time she closed the gap, they were approaching Rendif. Ether could feel the distant burn of the assassin’s gem and realized getting much closer would not only cause her further pain but would fuel the enemy fairy’s magic as well, potentially giving her the capacity for far greater acts of enchantment.
“Shah, you need to separate that fairy from her gem,” Ether said.
“Me!?” Shah objected. “Those fairies are trained to fight. I’m just trained to fly fast!”
“I shall help you, but I mustn’t get any closer, or she shall only become stronger,” Ether said. The shapeshifter separated a single thread from the tangle caught up in her windy torrent and offered it to the little creature. “Now go.”
Shah nodded shakily, taking the thread and working her wings for all she was worth. Though she did not share the same speed enchantment that fueled the assassin, her own gifts of training and breeding more than made up for the difference with Ether pushing her along from behind. Now that their quarry was aware she was being followed, she took evasive action. The nimble creature wove between tree branches, dipped under carriages, rushed through tall grass and among leaves. Shah, to her credit, stayed on the assassin’s tail. Ether found herself having to scatter and loop around as they squeezed through progressively tighter gaps.
The people of the village recoiled and jumped as what appeared to be a single messenger fairy rushed by amid an impossibly strong gust of wind. The battle at the edge of the city and the sight of the approaching golem had already caused its share of chaos, but an invisible chase served to elevate the hysteria considerably.
The fairies zigged and zagged their way through the city until they reached the outside of the elven equivalent of a large and stately manor, no doubt the home of this assassin’s target. Spurred forward by the realization it would soon be too late, Shah finally overtook the other fairy, snatching at her feet. They physical contact caused the stealth spell to falter slightly, offering the slightest hint at their foe’s form. The warrior fairy pivoted and drew one of her poisoned thorns, slashing at Shah. The messenger was swift enough to dodge the first attack, but only just, and she was entirely unprepared for the second. Ether threaded her will into the air between the two creatures, churning it with a potent gust that forced the two apart. Even that short burst of magic within range of the assassin’s crystal gave her a surge of speed.
For the better part of a minute, Ether did her best to help Shah without empowering her opponent. It was a bit like combat by proxy, her contribution limited to shoving and tugging the opponent out of position. After too many close calls, Shah finally found herself in position to strike. She looped the thread around her opponent’s waist and hastily pulled it tight. Once the thread was cinched into place, the same enchantment that kept Shah and Freet immobile and asleep within their cases fell upon the assassin. She plummeted to the ground like a puppet with her strings cut.
“Qui
ckly. Destroy the gem,” Ether instructed.
Shah tore the little crystal from the harness affixed beneath the fairy’s wings and darted high into the air… but once it was in her grasp, the same enchantment that had affected the fairy fell over her. She vanished from view. As the spell lingered on the fallen fairy, Ether could see neither of them any longer.
“Ms. Ether!” came Shah’s voice from thin air. “I can see her now! She’s faded and dull—and so is everything else—but I can see her.”
“The spell must allow those to see others it affects,” Ether said.
“Sh-should I break the crystal still?”
Ether considered the question. Having the working of D’Karon magic so near to her was like having a hot coal pressing against her… but there was value in its effects.
“No… Keep the gem. If it will allow you to see the others, and perhaps help you to match their other feats, then for now we can use it.”
“It… it won’t wither me like it did to the Bramblebreeze fairies, will it?”
“The gem won’t drink your strength. Mine is far more abundant.”
Ether looked down. Her target was finally sharpening into visibility, sound asleep on the ground. She shifted to her human form again and picked up the sleeping fairy. A few deft tugs tightened the enchanted cord to ensure she would not accidentally be awakened. As the poisoned thorn could not very well be trusted to be left about, she plucked it from the ground and, with a thought, incinerated it.
She looked about. The sudden appearance of the sleeping Bramblebreeze fairy, the disappearance of a messenger fairy, and a blustery patch of wind turning into a human had attracted a crowd of bewildered onlookers.
“Come. We need to move quickly,” Ether said, once again shifting to wind. “There was only one target within this town, but many elsewhere. The other fairies will have to pass nearby. We may be able to catch the next one quickly.”
“You aren’t just going to leave her here, are you?” Shah asked, eying the sleeping assassin.
“She is our enemy. If I had my way, I would have incinerated the creature along with her weapon.”
The Crescents Page 28
