Northern Storm ac-2

Home > Other > Northern Storm ac-2 > Page 52
Northern Storm ac-2 Page 52

by Juliet E. McKenna


  The cloud dragon finally dived towards the dark spiral and lashed at it with its massive tail. The whirlwind disappeared to reveal the fire dragon struggling feebly, battered into submission by windborne missiles. Its hide was dulled with dirt and blood and bruises and it barely had the strength to raise itself into a crouch. All it could do was peer upwards, ruby eyes failing in the gloom as it hissed pathetic defiance at its killer.

  The cloud dragon bated its wings and hissed back. Ice fell from the clouds around it—not the rare storm-born hailstones that occasionally offered these islands a puzzling portent, but jagged shards with razor edges raining down. They fell only on the fire dragon, pummelling it to stillness. The rest of the forest was untouched.

  Kheda watched. He couldn’t have moved if the murderous ice had been turned on him. Someone has to bear witness. Even if I can never tell anyone what I have seen.

  Satisfied, the cloud dragon turned to fly high into the sky, rising higher with every stroke of its wings. As it rose, the clouds parted before it, revealing a clear blue sky. As the creature shrank to a mere outline high above, the storm dissolved into rags of cloud that paled and disappeared faster than any natural change in the weather. The sun shone down, bright and warm. The cataract sparkled merrily, rushing noisily down the gorge.

  The fire dragon lay still, the fire in its eyes quenched at last. Steam rose all around it as the ice melted in the wounds torn in its flanks and belly. Dark-red blood, no longer bright with ruby radiance, flowed sluggishly to the ground and stained the forest floor an indelible black.

  Kheda watched and waited.

  Is it truly dead? How do I make sure? Hunters die every year when some jungle cat or whip lizard turns out not to be quite as dead as it looked. I don’t want to prod that and find it still has life enough to crush me in its death throes.

  He moved warily towards the frail vine and hakali-bark bridge, looking all around and holding his remaining sword ready.

  Was this bridge that wild man’s work? His and some more of the savages? What will they do now their dragon is slain?

  He froze as he saw stealthy movement on the far bank, beyond the ruin wrought by the dragon’s fall. Then indescribable relief flooded through him.

  ‘Risala!’ His shout sent lira finches fluttering up from the rock face behind him.

  She moved out of the shadow of a stubborn ironwood and waved. ‘Where’s Dev?’ she yelled. Kheda shook his head, unable to speak.

  Risala looked at him for a moment, then beckoned him on. ‘Over here.’

  Kheda took the bridge more slowly this time, stomach quaking at the thought of the yawning chasm below him. He kept his eyes fixed on Risala who looked back, unwavering, her hands held out to him. As soon as he was on solid ground, he ran, slipping on the broken leaves. As he folded her in his fierce embrace, she buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  Kheda gasped. ‘Ah, careful. I may have cracked a rib.’

  ‘Is that all?’ Risala looked up, her face smudged with dirt and her black hair tangled with leaves. ‘None of this is your blood?’ She pulled back and grimaced at the gore coating him.

  Kheda drew her close again. ‘There was a savage in the cave, guarding the . . .’ He stumbled over the words. ‘The gems that the dragon had gathered. It had made some kind of egg, that was central to its magic somehow.’

  ‘Is it gone?’ Risala looked up, eyes wide and fearful. Kheda nodded. ‘Dev . . .’ He swallowed hard. ‘Dev destroyed it and it destroyed him.’

  ‘Oh.’ Risala rested her head against Kheda’s shoulder. He stood still, taking comfort from the warm solidity of her body against his. The careless song of the cascade was joined by a few hesitant chirps of birds seeking and offering reassurance, crookbeaks and chequered fowl and the extravagantly tailed glory-cocks. The zip and churn of the forest’s countless insects resonated softly through the underbrush once again.

  This is life, this is reality. This is what I have been fighting for through all this nightmare of the unnatural and the impossible. This is what I want, for me and for Chazen.

  The aches in his back and side reminded him of the price he had paid.

  Let’s see the final balance settled.

  ‘Where’s Velindre?’ he asked at last.

  ‘Over there.’ Nestled in his arms, Risala didn’t stir.

  Kheda waited, eyes closed, for a long moment. He sighed. ‘Come on.’

  Risala reluctantly pulled herself free and, taking his hand, led him across the blackened scar sliced through the forest. Velindre lay curled like an infant in the shelter of an iron wood’s tall buttress roots. Like Risala, she was filthy from the detritus flung from the periphery of the whirlwind. Rips here and there in her tunic and trousers showed bruises darkening on the pale skin beneath. Her face was buried in her arms, hands clasped around her head, and she shook with silent sobs.

  Kheda looked wonderingly at Risala, who could only shrug helplessly in reply. He knelt and laid a careful hand on the magewoman’s shoulder. ‘It’s all right, it’s gone, it’s dead. Where are you hurt? Are you bleeding?’

  Velindre shook off his hand with a jerk of her shoulder and snarled something unintelligible into her arms. ‘Where are you hurt?’ Kheda repeated more forcefully.

  ‘I said I’m not hurt.’ Velindre startled him, pushing herself up from the ground to sit, loose-limbed in her soiled clothes. She scrubbed tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands, leaving dirty smears across her face. ‘Yes, it’s gone but it’s not dead. Don’t ask any magic of me till it is.’ Her voice broke into fresh weeping.

  Satisfied at least that she had no obviously life-threatening injuries, Kheda sat back on his heels. ‘The fire dragon, that’s dead, surely?’ he asked carefully.

  Velindre nodded, striving for some composure with visible effort.

  ‘The cloud dragon, that still lives?’ Kheda tried to hide his apprehension. ‘But it cannot last? You said so. It will fade? In a few days?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Velindre just about had her tears under control now. ‘I brought it here and made it a murderer of its own kind and now it will just sicken and die.’ Her voice was thick with self-loathing. With no notion of any possible consolation to offer, Kheda got to his feet. ‘Then Chazen will finally be free of the creatures.’

  ‘Then we had better let Chazen know.’ Risala was looking down the shattered slope of the forest. ‘They need to know the beast is truly dead.’

  ‘And the sooner the better,’ Kheda agreed, joining her to stare at the mined carcass of the fire dragon. ‘Well, they can come and see it with their own eyes, if they feel the need.’

  ‘Let’s just hope no one sees that cloud dragon in the meantime,’ Risala said tensely

  ‘We don’t need that complication, not after all the trials we’ve been through to get this far,’ Kheda agreed heavily.

  Velindre pushed past them both, tears still slowly running down her dirty face, intent on the massive corpse.

  They picked their way carefully down the slope after her. Sudden doubt assailed Kheda as they grew closer. ‘It is dead, isn’t it? Truly dead?’ He gripped the sword he held tighter still and realised with a shock that it was Dev’s blade he had picked up from the cavern floor, not his own.

  ‘Yes,’ said Velindre tersely.

  Kheda studied the dead dragon through the clouds of steam still wreathing it. It was immense, awesome even in death. Its injuries were appalling, seen close to. Splinters of ruby bone poked through the torn flesh of its ruined wings. Other lumps spoke of more broken bones, dark swelling spreading to force scales apart. Savage bites cut through skin and fat, muscle and sinew. Loops of crimson viscera bulged between the lips of a great rent in its golden belly.

  ‘It smells familiar somehow,’ Risala said with wonder. ‘How can that be?’

  Kheda thought for a moment. ‘That bite of quenched fire, it’s like a swordsmith’s forge, isn’t it?’

  ‘What are you p
lanning to do with it now?’ Velindre challenged.

  ‘Fire is the ultimate purification,’ Kheda began doubtfully. ‘I don’t like the idea of leaving it here to rot.’

  ‘You don’t think you can set fire to this, do you?’ The magewoman laughed without humour. ‘It won’t burn, you fool!’

  Kheda didn’t answer, seeing the iridescent carapaces of can-ion beetles already hurrying through the leaf litter towards the monstrous corpse. He watched as one reached a black smear of the fallen dragon’s blood. The beetle waved its antennae briskly and accelerated along the glutinous trail.

  You thought it would turn up its little legs and die, didn’t you? So the unthinking creatures of the forest will reduce this mighty tenor and spread its substance across this island, across this domain, if you don’t do something about it. Declaring this valley, this whole island, a place of ill omen isn’t going to suffice. But death changes everything, haven’t you always been told that? Is every mention of dragons fraught with ill luck?

  He cast his mind back to the endless tomes he had studied during the interminable wait for Risala and Velindre. Dragon teeth and claws are mighty talismans in some poems, aren’t they?’ He looked at Risala. She nodded slowly. ‘And scales and anything made of its hide.’

  ‘Talismans?’ Velindre looked up from studying the rugged spike at the end of the dragon’s tail. ‘To protect you? That might just work, you know,’ she commented with sour interest. ‘It would certainly give any other true dragon flying this way pause for thought, when it got a sniff of such a powerful rival sliced to ribbons.’

  She looked up at the sky, grimacing as she blinked away more tears. No dragon is going to want to meet whatever could do that. They’re not going to know it was all a sham.’

  Kheda looked at the green-hued flies buzzing through the air to cluster around the edges of the dead dragon’s wounds.

  So the insects are wiser than you. Spreading this creature’s substance through the domain could protect it. Death changes everything. What was once destruction is now a weapon in your hand, a defence.

  ‘Then let’s flay it and send some token to guard every village.’ Kheda looked dubiously at the mountain of reeking flesh rising before him.

  ‘That’ll be a long and filthy job,’ said Velindre savagely. ‘If you can find anyone brave enough to risk touching the creature, even now it’s dead.’

  ‘Then I’ll do it alone,’ Kheda shot back. ‘The blood and sweat and labour might even purify me. The stars above know I owe some mighty penance for bringing down magic on these islands in the first place.’ Even as he quailed at the prospect of such an undertaking, optimism rose in Kheda’s breast. ‘Do you suppose they’ll believe us, without coming to see this for themselves?’ Risala grinned unexpectedly, No one’s seen real dragonhide in time of memory. I think we’ll find people willing to come and lend a hand to win themselves a dragon scale of their very own.’

  ‘You’ll be keeping its heart for yourself, I take it?’ asked Velindre, an odd note in her voice. ‘I imagine such a ruby would be beyond price.’

  ‘What’s its nature now that the dragon and Dev are gone?’ Kheda asked her. He looked at Risala. ‘Is it talisman beyond measure or curse beyond bearing?’ Both women shrugged helplessly.

  Kheda frowned. ‘That wizard who led the invaders last year, he was wearing a dragonhide cloak, don’t you remember?’

  ‘The one Dev killed,’ Risala interrupted him. ‘I remember.’

  ‘So those savages, without blades or even clothes, do you suppose they know how to kill a dragon?’ Kheda wondered.

  ‘Where is Dev?’ Velindre rounded on Kheda.

  A chill ran through him despite the hot sun beating down. ‘He was burned, in the cave,’ he began incoherently.

  ‘And you left him?’ Velindre shot the warlord a furious glare before hurrying towards the frail bridge. Kheda shouted after her. ‘He’s dead. He must be.’

  His words echoed back from the cliff face. Velindre halted, looked at him and then continued on her path.

  ‘Come on.’ Risala looked at Kheda. ‘We owe him that much.’

  Finding himself at a loss for words, Kheda followed her.

  They caught up with Velindre at the entrance to the tunnel into the crag. She looked at them angrily. ‘I can’t even summon some magelight, not with all my power tied up in that dragon.’

  ‘Wait.’ Kheda looked around and spotted a tandra tree clinging to a rocky cleft a little way upstream. He drew his dagger and climbed up the rounded stones to cut a stubby branch and a plump seedpod. It was the work of a few moments to drive a slit into the soft wood and wedge in the black oily seeds along with the silky white fibres that had cocooned them.

  ‘Spark-maker?’ Risala proffered one and Kheda snapped the steel wheel with his thumb. The tandra fluff flared and the seeds sizzled, burning with an aromatic greenish flame.

  He realised that the two women were looking at him. ‘Let’s go.’ Holding the torch carefully before him, he led the way into the blackness.

  They halted in unspoken apprehension where the tunnel opened on to the vast cavern. The light of the torch reached out into the darkness and struck a myriad sparks from the dull stone walls. ‘Jewels.’ Risala picked at a diamond glint. ‘Buried in the rock.’

  If I hadn’t managed to hide, they’d have cut me to pieces. ‘Resources to help rebuild Chazen,’ commented Velindre dourly. ‘They’re yours if you want them.’

  ‘Leave them,’ said Kheda abruptly. ‘Remember what Dev said about jewels tainted with ill luck and enchantment.’

  Never underestimate the wisdom of a dying man’s words. ‘You can’t leave them here.’ Risala retreated from the glittering wall. ‘Some fool will come and dig them out.’

  ‘Is this Dev?’ Velindre had advanced across the cave floor and was looking down at a hairless blackened body, flesh shrunk to a semblance of charred leather. The wizened head gaped in a silent scream, clenched fists drawn up as if the corpse still sought to fight the hideous death visited upon it.

  Kheda approached, glad of the tandra seeds’ aromatic smoke wafting around to mask the stench of death. ‘This was the wild man who was here.’ He raised the torch and looked across the cave. ‘He was tending that, I suppose. Dev said it was an egg.’

  ‘An egg?’ Risala echoed, disbelieving. The great ruby was still there on its bed of jewels. It was dull and blackened, its surface opaque with a dull haze of cracks. The sapphires and emeralds around it had been reduced to no more than glistening dust. Glistening dust mingled with pale-grey ash. That must be all that’s left of him.

  ‘Dev brought down some fire of his own on it.’ Kheda struggled to explain. ‘He killed the magic within it but the fire burned him, too.’

  ‘Fire is the ultimate purification,’ Risala murmured as she bent to retrieve Kheda’s fallen sword from the floor.

  Does that mean the taint of Dev’s presence is lifted from Chazen, all that he did, all that he was? Velindre walked slowly over to the lifeless dragon’s egg. She crouched down and laid a hand on it. Kheda shivered at the recollection of Dev doing almost exactly the same thing.

  ‘I want this,’ the magewoman said softly. ‘You promised me payment for my services to you. I want this.’ No!’ Kheda’s rejection echoed harshly round the cavern.

  ‘You can give it to me or I will take it.’ Velindre stood up in one fluid movement. ‘My magic will return and I won’t be accepting any food or drink from your hands till it does,’ she added with a harsh smile. ‘I want this and I have earned it. We’ve earned it, Dev and me. What stain would that leave on your future, Chazen Kheda, to dishonour our bargain like that? When he has died in your service, wizard or not?’ Remember it’s not only dying words that hold wisdom but chance truths spoken from the most unlikely sources.

  ‘Why?’ Kheda cleared his throat. ‘Why do you want it?’

  ‘That really doesn’t concern you,’ Velindre said softly, looking down at the lifeless egg. She g
lanced back at Kheda and the torchlight reflected in her dark eyes. ‘Here’s something for you to think about. You want to show all the people of your domain that the dragon is truly dead. That’s all well and good as long as they don’t ask too many awkward questions about how it died. How will you answer those? Can you offer any other explanation besides the cloud dragon killing it? What then? Everyone will be as terrified as before, or more so. And your rule will have been cursed by two dragons, not just one. Believe me—I can make sure that everyone sees this new calamity flying above your islands.’ She smiled eerily in the flickering light. ‘Or you can tell everyone honestly that this new dragon slew the old beast. Then you can bring everyone to see you kill that foul and dangerous creature yourself. You would never have killed that true dragon with your feeble steel but I can give you more than a fighting chance against the dying simulacrum. Wouldn’t that be purification enough for you? What wouldn’t such a mighty deed do for your rule over this domain, Chazen Kheda? Give me this egg and I will give you that dragon.’

 

‹ Prev