"DOES ANYONE ELSE HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY?" he bellowed as he strode through the blasted maze of the dungeons. He passed one broken prisoner after another, but none answered his challenge. He didn't expect them to.
But there was one dragon whom he thought might talk back to him. He had been saving this one for last, but perhaps now was the time. Perhaps now he would make the thing suffer and suffer, and finally die.
"WingTouch, I am coming to you!" he snarled, as he strode across the blackened floor of the Dark Vale.
* * *
The attack had come as a sharp spasm of pain, deep in his kuutekka. FullSky knew at once that he had been discovered. It was all he could do to hold fast to the Dream Mountain long enough to cry out a farewell; then he let go and fell back through the underrealm, a spark fleeing from a fire into darkness.
The underrealm was a thunderstorm exploding with battling furies of wind and fire, blackness and light. He glimpsed the eye of Tar-skel in the storm and streaked past it, a speck driven by the wind. The eye was flashing in every direction, and FullSky felt the razor-sharpness of its vision, taking in all of the world. FullSky felt a burst of hope, because the Enemy's angry searching spoke not just of arrogance and power, but of worry, and—could it be?—of fear.
And then the eye flashed upon him, and FullSky knew that the Enemy had identified him as the one who had saved Jael, who had transported her to the Dream Mountain, out of reach. You! that flash of recognition seemed to cry. Yes! he whispered back, fleeing even faster down the thread of the underrealm. For a terrifying moment, he thought that the eye would strike him down right here in the midst of the storm. Instead, he felt the eye suddenly shift away—drawn perhaps by something more urgent. The Enemy had greater concerns than a single dragon kuutekka, even one who had angered him. Jael, perhaps? Was she doing as FullSky had urged?
He was not free of the Enemy's wrath, however. The underrealm was full of the Nail's servants, and FullSky felt a searing blast following him down the thread. A watcher, probably summoned by the Nail, was in pursuit. He dodged frantically, jumping from one thread to another. As he approached the lower clouds, he saw two other watchers speeding across the clouds to intercept him. A heartbeat later he reached the clouds, and skipped across two threads, shirting through the pathways of the web, fleeing for his life through the turbulent concealment of the clouds. He knew he could not escape for long, but for the moment, he was still free. FullSky streaked inward toward his own body, lying broken in the dungeons of the Dark Vale.
Fire erupted around him as he reentered the underwebbing of the dungeons. The place reverberated with the screams of aroused prisoners, and he darted frantically through the glowing caverns of fire, hoping for just a little more time, struggling against the inner pull drawing him inexorably back to his body. Nothing awaited him there except pain and death, but perhaps there was yet something he could do here.
Though weary beyond belief, he continued through the undercaverns, searching for his brother. Everything looked different now; fires blazed in all directions, and he sensed a growing intensity in the torment, and he sensed the presence of the human enemy, Rent. There was terrible suffering here—even more terrible than before. He felt the captives' desperation and pain feeding the flames of the sorcery. He felt their awareness of the battle in the sky, and of the appalling losses of the dragons.
If only he could bring them hope!
But perhaps he could. How many of them knew that Jael was alive and powerful, and that the Enemy had suffered his own losses today? He prayed that there was one being still alive who had kept the spark of hope burning even here. WingTouch! he called. WingTouch! Are you alive?
If only his brother had even a speck of underhearing!
And then he heard the answer, crying out through pain: FullSky? Is it you?
He spun and saw him—a shadow-thing flashing and shuddering. His brother was so close, he could almost reach out and touch him now; and yet, without that answering cry he might have missed him altogether, so chaotic was this place of fire and misery. WingTouch! he cried, and then realized that his brother was not alone. The underweb around his brother shook with flashes of rage, and that rage wasn't from a dragon, but from a human. Rent was attacking his brother!
FullSky darted close, hoping that Rent's attention was drawn away from the underrealm. He examined the binding spell that held his brother cruelly captive—twists in the very earth, holding him immobile. But FullSky saw that the weavings were somewhat weakened, as the great web had been weakened. FullSky had little strength left, but it was enough to reach into the weaving and loosen the bonds holding his brother prisoner. The spell seared his kuutekka, and he knew that a cry of alarm was going up somewhere as his efforts were felt. WingTouch, you are almost free! Be ready to leap!
FullSky? whispered his brother.
Jael lives in the Dream Mountain! Jael lives! Tell the captives! Tell them they must hope! FullSky gasped, the fire in the binding nearly killing him. And then it was torn loose, spinning away from WingTouch with its flaring heat. WingTouch, go! You are free!
* * *
WingTouch had been shaking with such rage at his tormentor that he could not even speak. Even the earth was quaking. Rent's hands wielded lightning like a whip, lashing it across WingTouch's back. He shuddered each time, yet each blow strengthened his resolve not to surrender. He knew he could not survive much more of this. Above him, the dragons battled drahls and sorcery. Before him, Rent shrieked with laughter as he hurled lightning, crying, "They die, dragon! Your brothers die!" Crack-k-k! "All of them, one after another, they die!" Crack-k-k! "There is no hope for any of them now! Their efforts are useless, futile, stupid!" Crack-k-k!
So desperately did WingTouch want to be free and at his brothers' side, even if in death, that he almost did not hear the voice that cried out from within his own mind. It was the voice of his other brother, the voice of FullSky! WingTouch, you are almost free—!
Crack-k-k!
It seemed impossible that this was anything but a nightmare—and yet when he heard FullSky cry out again, Jael lives! and Go! You are free! he felt an astonishing release that almost made him forget the agony of Rent's punishment. The rock had melted away from his feet, and the sudden freedom was almost more painful than the imprisonment—and he sagged for a moment, unable to move. He glared up at Rent, who was prancing about on the rim of the chasm, and he hoped that Rent would not notice his release.
He was astounded to see the human spin away with a shout of anger.
Trembling, WingTouch bent and stretched his legs—slowly, to avoid attracting notice—and then flexed his wings a little. Every fiber of his body screamed with pain; but if FullSky had freed him, he could not let mere pain keep him here. And where was FullSky? He tried to reach down into the underrealm to search for his brother, but it was beyond him; all he could make out was a hazily glowing place full of shadows. FullSky? he whispered. There was no answer.
* * *
FullSky felt his brother's astonished disbelief, and the shuddering movement of WingTouch stirring from his shackles. Then a blast of fire hit him, knocking him brutally away from his brother. FullSky felt a moment of triumph, even in the pain and disorientation. A guardian appeared before him, striking furiously, then another. He was surrounded by fire. He felt his kuutekka slip back into his broken body, his strength gone at last. But he had freed his brother . . .
The underrealm shimmered and faded, and he opened his eyes with a gasp of pain. He peered up blurrily from the scorched crater in which he was chained—into the eyes of two drahls who were hissing their freezing breath at him, who had already torn and bludgeoned his body near to the point of death. As he struggled for breath, he heard a bellow of rage—human rage—and he heard the voice of Rent, screaming, "He is the one who did it! He is the one!"
For an instant, FullSky thought that Rent was enraged because he had freed WingTouch. Then he saw the blazing fire in the eyes of the drahls and he knew,
somehow, that he had been condemned by Tar-skel for a far greater crime. Rent appeared over the rim of the crater and screamed: "He took her to the Mountain of Fire! He's the one! KILLLLL HIMMMM!"
There was nowhere for him to flee now, and no strength left to resist. And yet, as the freezing fire blossomed over his helpless body, he felt an astonishing upwelling of joy. It carried away the pain like a stream of cool water; and when he felt his body shudder and die, he knew that the pain was ending forever.
His last thought as his awareness slipped from him was how welcoming was that stream of water, bearing him away to the Final Dream Mountain.
* * *
WingTouch heard Rent's scream—"He's the one! Killll himmm!"—and realized at once whom the demon meant.
WingTouch threw himself into the air, beating his aching wings. He did not quite become airborne, but he made it to the outcropping where Rent had stood just moments ago, and he clambered toward the sound. Deep in his throat, his own fire was burning to life. A dozen stumbling steps brought him to a sight that made him halt in horror: Rent bellowing down at the mangled form of a dragon, frozen where two drahls were still blowing their killing breaths upon it. In the instant that WingTouch recognized the dragon as his brother, FullSky turned to clear glass and vanished. Rent crowed in savage triumph. Then he turned and saw WingTouch.
Motionless, WingTouch met the human's gaze with cold fury. "You have killed my brother!" he whispered, and drew a deep breath around the fire in his throat.
"You!" Rent screamed. "How did you—"
WingTouch exhaled. His breath caught the human in a splash of fire and smoke, flames gouting around the demon's head and body. The human stood wreathed in flame, and his last agonized cry, "—get freeee—?" was a screech that rose into the air like the fire and smoke that were consuming him. It took only one breath. When the smoke cleared, the human's charred corpse remained crouched in its position of surprise and fear.
The ground shook with another quake, and the two drahls that had just ended his brother's life stared up at him with eyes suddenly full of fear. Were they afraid of him because he had just destroyed their master? Did they know how wounded he was? He incinerated them with one long breath.
WingTouch turned around slowly, gazing in astonishment over the ruins of the earth that were the dungeons of the Dark Vale. Overhead, he could hear the sounds of battle. He could hear the cries of dragons here in the dungeons, and he felt their hopelessness like a weight upon the air. He could not free the others as FullSky had freed him, but perhaps he could give them something to rejoice about. What was it FullSky had told him before he died?
Jael is alive in the Dream Mountain . . .
Yes.
Lurching into the air, heedless of the screaming protests of his body, WingTouch began flying low over the dungeons, bellowing out the news.
"ALIVE IN THE DREAM MOUNTAIN! JAEL IS ALIVE!"
Chapter 42: Dragon Rigger
The one shall fall and the realm shall tremble.
And the beginning begins anew.
But the beginning would be, must be, for the Nail of Strength.
* * *
In the place where darkness coiled about itself in patterns of masterful deception and power, he who was called Nail of Strength noted the passing of his servant Rent. The human had been useful enough; but his pride had grown too great—and his desire, not just to serve, but to be the Nail of Strength, had become all too evident. And still he had failed in the task to which he'd been entrusted. And so the Nail had changed the terms of his gift of body to his servant, and withdrawn the shield of invulnerability that Rent had grown to take for granted.
The manner of Rent's death was left to chance, and chance had wasted no time. Rent's terror, and the pain of his passing, were as useful as any dragon's in fueling the fire of the web-sorcery.
And the web was growing.
The web was strong.
The web would pierce the boundaries between the worlds and draw them all, all of the universes, into the power of the one called the Nail.
The darkness coiled about its center of power, and brooded. The darkness, even in its certainty, felt fear. There was still the problem of "the one."
How often had the Nail tried to convince himself that the prophecy was meaningless! But he knew; he had seen the ancient vision himself, through the eyes of a servant; he knew the window into space-time that the draconae had seen. He knew the truthfulness of the vision and the words that had sprung from it. And he knew, most of all, how diabolically ambiguous those words were! And so he had woven his web of power carefully, with exquisite care, around such portions of the vision as could be clearly understood.
And yet, even now, as the Words unfolded, so much was unclear.
Plotting in his place of strength, the one called Strength had built his plan around the fall of the rigger. But by giving her life rather than having it struck from her, she had sidestepped his plan. And for all that, she yet lived, reborn in the Dream Mountain, thanks to the infuriating treachery of the dragons! But the Nail of Strength remained the Nail of Strength, and the dragons fought their losing battle, isolated from their sustenance of lumenis, and from their mates in the Mountain of Fire. The prophecy might be muddied, but the victory would still be his.
Now, however, the plan must be changed. It angered him not to wield the power of the Mountain of Fire; but since the draconae, with their petty defenses, continued to resist, he would crush them. The power of the Deep Caverns ran strong in him now; and once he had reached out beyond this realm, there would be no limits to the new sources of power.
He had been pleased to use the dragons' despair to strengthen his plan. But that time was past, and a new time had come. Time not just to humiliate the dragons, but to destroy them.
* * *
As Jael reached out from the Dream Mountain, she felt perilously exposed, even with the power of the draconae helping to keep her kuutekka tight and strong. She felt as if she were stepping off into space from a dizzyingly high mountain, with untested wings. She could see the structure of the Enemy's web with greater clarity than ever—a vast glistening spiderweb enclosing the sky. She could see its power surging from the Dark Vale where the Enemy kept his prisoners and servants in thrall, and from another place called the Deep Caverns.
It was hard to envision how such power could be defeated. And yet, in places, it was somewhat weakened—even in the Dark Vale, where the dragons' spirit had been bolstered by the news that she was here. Her very presence strengthened the dragons and weakened the sorcery! She felt awed and humbled; she could only trust that she could find a way to complete the task. She had unraveled a small part of the Enemy's skein of sorcery; she must somehow unravel the rest of it.
In the Dark Vale, the dragons continued to fight a desperate battle; and yet, perhaps not so desperate as they believed. Could the dragons see what she did—that the Enemy's illusions made his forces seem far greater than they were? They could still be defeated; but first she must collapse the illusion of invincibility in Tar-skel's sorcery. First she must join together the power of the draconi and the draconae.
Riggers can change things, Kan-Kon had reminded her. And who knew it better than she who had defeated Tar-skel once before, at the Black Peak—where she had undone the Nail's plans to hurl Highwing to his death in the static realm, where she had broken his terror by joining rigger and dragon together? Even now, that tear in the sorcery remained unrepaired. She meant to strike there, at the Enemy's weakness; she meant to join once more with a dragon.
(Hawww, yessss!) hissed Ed, urging her on.
Come to meet me, Windrush! Come to the Black Peak! she whispered again and again into the winds of the underrealm, as she flew toward that place of smoldering magic.
* * *
Surprise twisted through the center of the darkness like a draft of cold air, fanning the inner flame to a dark, angry heat. * She dares, then, to challenge me where she fancies she won a great victory! L
et her do so. Let her flaunt her pride and her arrogance. The victory is mine. It is already mine. *
* * *
The Dark Vale was a place of chaos and noise and the stink of death. The dragons fought with renewed spirit and determination, but always the Enemy seemed to have the greater numbers and strength, as though he had a limitless army of drahls to expend in the killing of dragons. Still, the fury of battle did not keep Windrush's heart from leaping when he heard Jael's voice in his underthoughts. Come to the Black Peak! Join me there, with all the dragons you can bring!
Dragon Rigger Page 44
