SongWeaver
Page 24
But in those centuries of confinement, I did learn one thing, Tanith Ven. I learned that you mortal sheep will say anything to save your own wretched skin.
He was right. Ven could hear it in the dragon's words, the thoughts that drummed through his head in time with the pounding ache. Who was he to question this great creatures majesty, his fierce intelligence, his indomitable logic? What right had he, a lowly killer, remorseless and cruel, to try to stave the will of one so high above him? He hung his head in shame, unable to face the majesty of the being who towered before his own useless form.
He should save X'on the trouble and kill himself. Just take the blade he was so proud of, the instrument of death to which he'd clung so desperately, and run it through his own bowels. His head pounded. It was one way out, after all. There was no shame in admitting he had been bested. He was already bleeding, and starving, and weak. What use was he, confronted with will of a World Shaper? Without thought, held a hand up to his ear to try to staunch the blood that gushed as he tried to find a single reason to continue his own miserable, selfish life.
That's when he made the connection.
His eyes lit with fury as he once again stared up at his accuser.
“All my headaches…those were your fault! You’re full of goatshit, you manipulated me!” he screamed, his head abruptly clear. “All this time, you've rigged events in your favor! You had your thumb on the scale! You forced me to get over Jakat’s death, just like you forced the Shifter to attack us! Just like you forced all those others! The Chimera in the bar! Drednam! The giants!” His eyes widened. “After Jakat, I was miserable! I was done…I was going to leave your quest, and you changed my mind for me! You interfered with your own experiment! You didn’t test me, you led me around like a marionette until you got the response you wanted!” Something else clicked, something X'on had said a few minutes before. “You wanted to judge someone as you had been judged, right? Did something tamper with your results, too?”
The dragon roared, a sound that bounced and echoed through the caverns. It was primal, guttural, and very, very real – the first actual sound X'on had made since he'd returned to his dragon form. Then, with impossible speed, Torox’on Dothdoroki, the great Golden Dragon, raked a single claw across Ven’s back, slicing through his winter cloak. Ven howled in shocked agony as the stubs of his wings were shorn neatly from his shoulders.
My gift to you, Tanith Ven, the dragon bellowed in his brain. Blood was gushing from Ven ears now, a steady pulsing torrent that matched the recursive pounding in his head and the beat of his heart. That is your prize. That is your reward--an end to your deformity, and your suffering.
Ven wailed again, a wordless cry of undiluted pain. The dragon glanced around, then flicked an object towards Ven. It thudded into his chest, knocking him back on his tail. Ven looked down to find the Book of Words cradled to his chest.
Keep the book, as well. A minor trinket, of no more use to me. I no longer wish to foul my tongue with the bitter taste of mortal language. Use it… use it to tell your precious Humans I will murder them first.
It turned its back to Ven, then added, You are no longer welcome in my home. Leave. Now.
A blow of invisible force struck Ven. It knocked what little air he still held from his lungs, shot him off his feet and sent him flying to the outskirts of the cave’s entrance. He was freezing now, the icy powder in the air whipping up around him, his vision blurred from pained tears, his chest hoarse and scratching for air, his shoulders a symphony of torment. He began, slowly, to pull himself along the icy ground, his only thought to get up, and away, and out. His tail was broken clean in two places; he barely felt it, the pain from his other injuries overwhelmed it. He barely managed to claw his body away from the cave before he collapsed.
And lying there in the snow, his body curled fetally around the Book, his blood freezing in spider-webs across his back and face, Ven heard the deafening beat of the dragon’s wings as it rose into the air to judge the world.
Derek Moreland