by Jim Melvin
“It’s not true,” Laylah said to Bhacca’s corpse. “You do have a soul.”
“You’re such a romantic,” the raven said. “But are you a survivor? If so, you’ll do what’s necessary. At noon, leave the tower and go to the sycamore. You’ll be watched, as usual, but it won’t matter. What happens next will be obvious, even to you. Stay put. Izumo and Lucius will find you when the critical moment arrives.”
And then the raven vanished.
Laylah sat on the floor for most of the morning, cradling Bhacca’s head in her lap. But the time finally came when she heeded Vedana’s advice. Laylah was a survivor. How else could she have endured an imprisonment that had lasted for decade upon decade?
Laylah lifted Bhacca’s slim body and carried it into the farthest corner of the closet. The newborn felt as light as a roll of parchment.
Laylah covered the corpse with the gown she had worn at the original banquet in the old palace. Then she wiped a few drops of blood off the floor with a towel and also hid the towel beneath the gown.
When she left her room, Izumo was pacing the hallway.
“There’s no need for concern, Dracool-Izumo,” Laylah said calmly. “Everything is in order. I wish to visit the sycamore on this fine day. Is it cold outside? Should I bring a cloak?”
“For a woman of your delicacy, a cloak might be appropriate, at least until the chill of the morning disappears,” Izumo said, playing along. “May I escort you, my lady?”
“That would please me.”
Though it wasn’t easy, the dracool managed to squeeze into the cage with her. He rode to the base of the tower and then left her at the swing. It was indeed a pleasant day, but the brightness of the sun made her dizzy.
The horror in Bhacca’s face consumed Laylah’s mind, and she fought back tears as best she could. Laylah didn’t want to attract too much attention. But now even the possibility of escape felt trivial. She had betrayed her longtime friend. Of what worth were her own desires?
Mala stood in the king’s bedchamber, trembling despite his best efforts to appear calm. Drool drizzled from the tips of his fangs, sizzling as it smote the stone floor. To say that Invictus was angry was a gross understatement. Before the sorcerer regained control, he could destroy anyone too near, just out of spite.
“The dragon has betrayed me. For that, he shall lose his life. But even worse: The Death-Knower may still live.”
Mala took a step back. “I don’t understand. How can you know these things?”
“Do not question me. Just listen. The dragon has been restrained and will be brought before the tower. I will destroy Bhayatupa in full view of my people. Find Lucius and order him to bring Laylah to the balcony. I want her to witness the demise of the dragon, as well. Maybe it will put moisture in her pretty little cunt.”
“It will be as you command, my king.”
“Yes, it will.”
Mala fled the bedchamber, ran through the catacombs, and thundered up the wide stairs. He came upon several members of Lucius’ personal guard, squeamish little men whom Mala could barely tolerate. When they saw him coming, they attempted to retreat down a hallway, but he screamed at them to stop.
“Where is Lucius, you worthless rats?”
They looked at each other, their faces panicked, but none dared speak. Mala towered over them, each of his arms as large as their entire bodies. One of the guardsmen finally stepped forward.
“The last I s-s-saw him, he was leaving Uccheda, as if on an urgent mission. He didn’t speak to me or any other.”
“What good are any of you worms? I should tear out your guts and feed them to one of the Kojins. Arrrggghhh! If you see Lucius, tell him to report to me immediately.”
Mala was too large to ride in the metal cages, so he raced up the spiral stairway that led to the rooftop of the tower, several thousand steps in all. He’d decided to go to Laylah’s room and escort her down to the balcony himself. Afterward, he would find Lucius and drag the former general somewhere private. There he would end the man’s pathetic life. Mala was finished with the little man, firstborn or no. Somehow he didn’t think Invictus would mind.
For such a large creature, Mala was quick, and he charged up the stairs ten at a time. The ceiling of the stairwell was twelve cubits high, just tall enough for him to run without having to duck his head. Though he was supernaturally strong, he still had to rest several times on the way up, the heavy chain weighing him down like an anchor. When he finally reached the 50th floor, it took him longer than he liked to catch his breath. Then he pounded down the empty hallway to Laylah’s room. No chambermaids were about, which struck him as odd. Either they had hidden when they heard him coming, or they were already aware of the spectacle in the valley and had left their posts to claim prime viewing spots.
Laylah’s door was closed.
“Queen Laylah, the king summons you,” Mala said, still breathing heavily. “Open the door and come with me . . . now!”
There was no answer, which enraged Mala even more. He bashed his fist against her door, expecting it to be latched. Instead, it swung open and banged against the wall. He lowered his head and peered inside. The bedchamber appeared empty, but something didn’t feel right.
“Queen Laylah, are you here?”
Silence.
Mala entered the room. To hell with permission. Why did Invictus stick to that stupid promise, anyway? The ceiling was tall enough for him to stand upright, except for several annoying chandeliers. Nothing seemed out of place, but he could smell something, and it took him a while to identify it—a faint but undeniable residue of demon magic that reminded him of Invictus, but not quite. Laylah’s smell was different too. This was someone else . . . and then it came to him.
Vedana!
Mala started to rush out to tell Invictus, but then decided to search the rest of the room before departing, just in case there were any other important details to report. He stooped and passed through the doorway into Laylah’s wide closet. At first he saw nothing unusual, but his superb sense of smell again told him there was something more here. He crawled to the corner where a gown was laid neatly on the floor. He flung it aside, revealing the corpse.
Though Mala had seen the newborn with Laylah countless times, he couldn’t remember her name. She lay on her back, fully clothed, her eyes closed and lips slightly parted. A splotch of blood stained her face. Mala dabbed it off with a thick finger and licked it clean. Then he leaned over her and smelled her mouth and armpits before rolling her onto her stomach and sniffing her anus. He could sense internal ruin. This was Vedana’s work, all right.
Mala had to force himself not to take a bite out of her. Even dead, she looked so tasty. But his king would want to examine the newborn while her body was in one piece. A pity.
A short while later, Invictus stood in the closet and spoke to the corpse. It was the first time Mala had witnessed such a thing, and he found it quite amusing. And what Bhacca’s dead body said to the sorcerer filled the ruined snow giant with even more pleasure. Lucius was revealed as a traitor—as Mala had long suspected. And Bhacca’s corpse also mentioned the dracool named Izumo. It would be sweet to see both of them suffer.
Rather than rely on the clumsiness of newborn soldiers, Mala sent wolves, witches and Mogols in search of Lucius and Izumo, and he dispatched Urbana and a crew of vampires to find Laylah. The queen’s punishment would be ongoing imprisonment. But the firstborn and dracool would suffer far worse fates. If Mala was really lucky, Invictus would allow him to eat them. Lucius was scrawny, but the dracool would be delicious.
Dragon
16
From where she sat, Laylah had a wide view of the valley. She could see throngs, numbering in the tens of thousands, gathering near the base of the tower. The only other time there had been so many was when the man in the wagon was brought to Avici. Something significant was about to occur, but Laylah had no idea what it might be.
While she puzzled over this new development, the
raven appeared again and perched on a branch not far from where she sat. Then it cocked an eye toward her. When it spoke, it made no audible sound. But Laylah heard the words within her mind.
“Little one, you’re about to witness a spectacle never before seen in the history of Triken,” the silent voice proclaimed. “The greatest of the great will be humbled. And Invictus has chosen the wrong day to make an example of the dragon.” Then the raven took flight.
As if in response, a blaring of horns sundered the air, prompting a slew of cheers.
Laylah could not overcome her curiosity. Abandoning the swing, she joined the masses. Instantly, golden soldiers, druids and vampires, all of whom seemed to appear out of nowhere, encircled her. In addition, at least one hundred dracools circled the skies. Laylah searched frantically for Lucius or Izumo, but too many people surrounded her, making it difficult to identify individual faces. She was so boxed in, she could not even return to the swing.
“Do not attempt to flee,” Urbana snarled from behind her. “After all these years, we know your tricks, you horrid little bitch.”
“I just want to see what’s going on,” Laylah said. “Is anything wrong with that?”
“And where is the mistress of the robes?” the vampire said. “Doesn’t Bhacca usually join you on your walks?”
Laylah’s heart skipped a beat, but she tried to appear calm. “Unlike you, she has important tasks to perform.”
The horns sounded again, this time much nearer. The reverberations drew Laylah’s attention back to the commotion. Still surrounded, she fought her way to the crest of a small hill, and from there could see the broadest causeway of Avici. Upon it came the great army of Invictus, the breastplates of the golden soldiers gleaming beneath the blazing sun. Mala strode at the front, his golden chain glowing brightest of all. The army included druids, trolls, Stone-Eaters, witches, ghouls, vampires, wolves, Mogols, Pabbajja, wild men, dracools and several Kojins. There were other monsters, too, some of which she had never seen before. One beast stood almost thirty cubits tall, three times Mala’s height, and it had three bulbous heads. But all of this paled in comparison to what she witnessed next.
More than fifty cave trolls, each almost as large as a Kojin and magically altered to endure sunlight, pushed and pulled a massive stone platform that rolled on iron wheels. Bhayatupa lay imprisoned on its flat surface, dozens of magical chains pinning his head, neck, torso and tail to the stone. The dragon’s wings, which when extended were more than one hundred and fifty cubits from tip to tip, were lashed against his sides. Large golden spheres had been stuffed into his nostrils. The beast seemed barely able to breathe, hissing through the gaps between his fangs.
Without warning, a voice exploded from above, and all heads turned toward the looming malice of Uccheda. Invictus stood on the balcony, his robes swirling in the early afternoon breeze. When he spoke, all could hear. “There are traitors among us.”
“Yes!” the throng shouted in unison.
Bhayatupa growled.
“The dragon has conspired against my realm.”
“Yes!”
“He attempted to free one of my prisoners. But of course, he failed.”
“Yes! YES!”
“I say to you, my loyal subjects, any who stand with me will thrive!”
“YES!”
“And any who stand against me will perish!”
“Yes! YES!”
“Behold, Bhayatupa! All have trembled before him. Until now.”
“YES! YES!! YES!!!”
Laylah watched Bhayatupa struggle, with all his ancient might, against his restraints. But the power of Invictus was apparently too great even for the dragon.
Mala laughed. “Our king has spoken,” the Chain Man said, in a voice that also boomed throughout the valley. “Bhayatupa is a traitor. Of that, there is no doubt. But there is more.”
All went silent.
Invictus chuckled. “Yes, General Mala . . . there is more.”
Guards dragged two figures—mere specks in comparison to the dragon—to the front of the platform, wrapped in chains. They struggled mightily, but their efforts were futile. Lucius and Izumo were put on display.
Stunned, Laylah collapsed, but Urbana caught her with steely arms.
“You won’t want to miss this, little one,” the vampire said.
Bhayatupa again heaved against the chains, like a mountain trying to tear itself from the ground. But the more the dragon struggled, the tighter the restraints became. Watching all this, Laylah knew she was doomed. Vedana had been lying the entire time. Nothing could free Laylah from this nightmare.
Just then, Invictus, always in command, always in control, let out a yelp, and his magically amplified voice leapt across the valley, suddenly high-pitched and frightened.
“What is it?” he screeched. “What is happening to the sun? Someone . . . help . . . it hurts!
Laylah looked skyward. A shadow had emerged over the western edge of the round yellow orb of the sun. She doubted most have noticed this unusual event—at least at this early stage—if Invictus had not reacted so intensely. To her surprise, her brother turned and fled through a doorway into the tower, trailing fire and smoke.
The momentary silence that followed was as profound as death—then came hysteria, as if acid were raining from the skies. From above the tumult thundered an even greater sound—an enraged growl that swept over the valley like a tidal wave.
17
Bhayatupa bellowed in triumph.
The bottom left portion of the sun had begun to darken. He had witnessed this phenomenon many times in his long life, but had paid it little heed. Now, apparently, it really meant something.
As if in response to the sorcerer’s strange behavior, the chains binding him had begun to weaken, the will that engorged them fading until they became mere metal, no longer imbued with the supernatural might of a Sun God.
As he pressed upward, the metal stretched, making a strange whirring sound before finally beginning to crack. His anger had made him strong even by his standards.
Snap. Snap! SNAP!
The chains fell away.
On his hind legs, Bhayatupa rose to his full height and spread his wings wide. Golden spheres—their magic also removed—blasted from his nostrils and punched holes in Uccheda’s side with the force of boulders cast by trebuchets.
“Adho Satta! Who will protect you now? You dare to chain me? To drag me through the streets like a dog? I am Bhayatupa, you fools!”
All were stunned into silence, watching his movements as if hypnotized by a gigantic snake. He had to strike fast, before they regained their senses. So he scanned the throngs for the most disgusting fool of all.
Then he spotted his target.
Shocked, Mala stood motionless, but for reasons different than anyone else’s.
For the first time since the conflagration had changed him, the chain encasing his torso and thighs went cool. The blessed relief from the constant pain unnerved him. He barely noticed the deathly silence. But he did notice the chaos that followed—as if the doors of hell had burst asunder.
Bhayatupa had broken his bonds.
Yet Mala could not seem to shake his disorientation. The sudden elimination of pain confused him. For a moment, he considered tearing the chain off his flesh. The thought was strangely tempting. But then the dragon pounced with amazing speed, lifting Mala in his jaws. The chain, though lifeless, was still physically strong. And it saved his life. Without its presence, the dragon would have bitten him in half. Instead, Mala was flung into the air—and he fell a long way, crashing upon a horde of screaming civilians, crushing them.
Then all went dark.
As the shadow of the moon consumed the sun, Bhayatupa roared with delight.
The Chain Man lay still, crumpled in a heap.
Then the dracools, mortal enemies of the dragon for countless millennia, swept down from the sky. Some snapped at Bhayatupa’s eyes, while others attempted to land on his ba
ck, where they could pry open a crimson scale and claw at the soft flesh beneath. These tactics had worked against other dragons, but never against Bhayatupa. He’d devoured hundreds of dracools in his lifetime, and these were no match for him.
Red fire poured from his mouth, consuming half a dozen, and his huge tail whipped back and forth, snapping dracools out of the air and sending them tumbling to their deaths. Within a moment, ten had perished, and the others were forced to flee.
Fools that they were, not all of Invictus’ army were afraid.
The three-headed giant stomped forward, wielding an axe the size of a small tree. Several Kojins pounded their chests. The cave trolls, too stupid to be fearful, tore up chunks of the stone causeway and hurled them at their foe. Even the witches, wolves, druids and Stone-Eaters joined in the attack.
However, except for the dracools, none of Bhayatupa’s enemies could fly. With one great sweep of his wings, he rose into the sky and then swooped down and landed on the shoulders of the giant, which he dwarfed like an eagle perched on a toddler. Bhayatupa chewed off the middle head. Black blood spurted like a geyser.
The two remaining heads howled in agony.
A boulder the size of a wagon smote Bhayatupa in the ribs, causing him to lurch sideways and tumble off the giant’s back onto the ground. Instantly, the witches, druids and Stone-Eaters swarmed upon him. Red flames spurted from the witches’ eyes and corrosive acid from the druids’ mouths, but Bhayatupa’s crimson scales were barely harmed. The Stone-Eaters vomited a scorching liquid similar to Bhayatupa’s own fire, but this also did little damage.
Bhayatupa raised his head and spat again. Several monsters were incinerated. Then he sprang into the sky and, facing the sun, saw that the shadow had now halfway obscured it. Later he would consider how this event had impacted the sorcerer, weakening him, but for now Bhayatupa had no time to ponder such things.
