Wrath of Dragons

by Scott King

  Keeping the construct intact took more effort than Kane would have thought. Whenever her mind wandered, the cobblestone walls waned and shifted back into those of her childhood home.

  Whenever the construct broke, Doug tried to dematerialize the unwanted bits, but he had no conscious ability to destroy or build anything. Sporadically, glasses of water, fruits, or other exotic foods Kane didn't recognize popped into existence, so Doug had some skill, but no way to intentionally direct it.

  Days passed, and they knew it was days because Yorndrak had a cycle where it shifted from lighter to darker tones. At night the void in the sky became blacker than the abyss while during daylight hours it took on a navy blue.

  They did not need to eat, drink, or sleep. Kane felt it was manageable, but as a week passed, she grew itchy for they had no sign of when their stay in Yorndrak would end.

  "Kane?" Doug's voice was followed by a thudding on the wall between them.

  "Go away."

  "Where do you want me to go?"

  Kane grimaced. It would be best to deal with him and nip this in the bud so she could go back to sitting in silence.

  One by one, Kane dematerialized enough stone blocks and the mortar between them so that there was a window to Doug's side of their home. "What?"

  "Can you shape shift?"

  "You know I can shape shift. I'm a shapeshifter. By definition, that means I can shape shift."

  He shook his head. "I mean here, while in Yorndrak."

  Kane hadn't tried. Her body wasn't real. She felt no physical sensation when touching things, like the floor or wall. She felt resistance, but not texture.

  Looking down, Kane saw that her body lacked exaggerated muscles and unnecessary curves. She ran a hand along her cheek, nose, and through her hair. Sure enough, her facial features were equally plain. She was in her natural form, and she didn't like the idea of Doug seeing her in this way.

  Picturing her cheekbones, Kane tried to raise and thin them out, but nothing happened. She imagined herself taller and with longer hair, and again, nothing happened.

  "Well," Doug asked, "can you shape shift?"

  "No," she said.

  "Drats." He looked through the glass ceiling to the magical sky. "I've been trying to turn myself back into a dragon. I thought maybe, for at least a little while, I could fly, but I'm not having any luck."

  "You miss flying?"

  "Feeling the wind rush around me. Seeing the sun creep up on the horizon. There is nothing like it."

  "The sense of peace is my favorite, especially at night when you can fly above the clouds and its only you and the stars above."

  Doug cocked his head sideways and smiled. "I hadn't thought of that. That you would know what it was like to fly or that you might understand what it would feel like to be grounded."

  "I'm special like that." Kane waved a hand, and the rest of the stone blocks in the wall melted, leaving an opening large enough for Doug to walk through.

  "When was the first time you flew?" Doug lay down on the floor beside her, with his hands resting on his chest.

  "The first time was more falling than flying."

  Doug laughed. "Fledgelings have a saying that goes 'You are doing it wrong if you don't fall.'"

  "Then I must have been doing something right. It took me hundreds of tries to learn how to fly. Shaping my wings, making sure I was aerodynamic and had enough thrust. It's not easy."

  "I guess I had it easy, being born with wings."

  "You have no idea."

  She expected him to say something sappy. To keep pestering her. To do something Doug-like. He didn't. He merely lay there looking at the stars.

  Although it curled her toes and made her stomach churn to admit it to herself, Kane thought, at least for a little while, it was nice not to be alone.

  It wouldn't last and she couldn't let herself get attached. The moment they were free of Yorndrak she would have to kill him. Not because she wanted to, but because their link was a weakness she couldn't afford.

  29

  In the Dark

  Ulesday, 42nd of Hearfest, 1162.111

  Alex had no trouble steering the barge. They encountered a few spots of white water, but those were only due to a sharp bend in the tunnel. She did grow bored. Doug slept. Carter slept. She stood and then sat in the wheelhouse, not knowing how far they were going or how many hours had passed.

  When Carter awoke, he tried to estimate the distance based on how often Alex had needed to refill the oil in the lamps, but he couldn't settle on an accurate number. So travel became a matter of shifts, napping, eating, and waiting. It was the most peaceful time Alex had had since leaving Elene.

  They talked about lots of things because there was nothing else to do. It was interesting to hear Carter's thoughts on the world, considering he didn't know much about it. On the flip side, with all her schooling and training, Alex didn't know the first thing about stitching a wound or how to judge if crops should be harvested early.

  When talking grew old, she gave Carter basic fighting lessons in which she covered stances and making sure to protect the vital parts of one's body. When he was too tired or sore, they went back to talking or sleeping.

  Checking in on Doug became part of the routine. They moved the former dragon to the wheelhouse, and whoever was on duty also had the responsibility of regularly dripping water into his mouth.

  They explored every bit of the barge and found a stash of clothing. Most of it was far too small, but both Alex and Carter found travel cloaks that fit them. The fabric was different, none she had ever seen and it was perfect for rolling up in when she was tired.

  The days passed, merging into each other, but Alex was confident their time on the barge lasted under a week. The first sign that it was coming to an end was the noise.

  A distant, low hum echoed off the cavern walls, causing Alex and Carter to stop sparring and pay more attention to the river. For an hour they listened, its intensity growing.

  "That's different," Carter said.

  "With our luck it's bad different."

  The sound grew to a gurgling, and when they passed another S-curve in the river, the barge slammed to a stop.

  Alex kept her balance, using the wheel to brace herself, but Carter tripped then slid into the barge's low wall.

  "I think we hit something." He righted himself and looked downstream.

  Alex had done her best to keep the barge in the center of the river where the current flowed faster, and now she wondered if that had been a mistake. "What is it?" She hoped it wasn't some under water creature. She was not in the mood for dealing with some twisted monstrosity.

  "I don't know," Carter said. "I don't see anything breaking the surface."

  "Can you do anything? I'm turning the wheel, but nothing is happening."

  "Like what?" Carter shrugged. "There's..."

  The bow of the barge stayed where it was while the rest of the ship pivoted. A scraping vibration shook the entire deck.

  "Anything?" she asked.

  Carter drew an agyl as tall as himself. Its bright white light blinded her.

  "Watch it!" she yelled.

  "Sorry, but we need to see what's going on."

  Dotted along the river were rotted pylons and rusted pieces of metal. Farther ahead, stone blocks formed a dam. The blocks, easily the size of a cart, had channels drilled into them, that allowed the water to pass through, but otherwise obstructed the tunnel.

  "That has to be the way out," Carter said.

  Taking her eyes off the water, Alex looked up to see that the ceiling rose into a cone shape. A spiral roadway crawled hundreds of parses along the side of the cavern, funneling into a gorge in the ceiling. From it spewed a reddish-yellow glow. If they were lucky, it was sunlight and their way out.

  Storefronts and other crumbling buildings lined the spiral road. There were windows and doors, though from a distance, Alex couldn't tell if the windows had glass or any kind of covering.

&nbs
p; The base of the road formed at a beach on the river's bank. This place was another city, one as old as Agnar and the pylons and stones blocking the river must have been the remnants of a harbor. Someone back in the day had used the river to send goods, people, or whatever between the sister cities.

  "How do we go from here up to there?" Alex pointed to the top of the spiral road. "Can you lift us with a bit of magic?"

  "Unless you want to carry me along with Doug," Carter said. "That's way too far for me to lift us."

  "Then we will have to make it on foot." Alex climbed onto the deck railing and hopped to one of the grey stone blocks that formed the dam. She landed on a slimy surface. Her boots slid and flew up past her head, and she landed on her butt, sliding. Clawing with her fingernails, she snagged a crevice and stopped herself before she slipped off the other side of the stone block.

  "You ok?" Carter asked.

  "Yes, but don't come this way." The rushing roar they had heard was the river falling to unseen depths on the other side of the dam. "There is a pit on this side."

  "Can you make it to the bank?"

  The stone blocks had a few gaps and cracks, but if she was careful, she could cross them. "I think so. Can you magic-up Doug and the supplies?"

  "I'm good for more than magic." Carter gathered together three of the woven baskets and married their contents.

  "I know. I saw how you treated Doug's wound."

  "Well, I'm good for more than magic and medical stuff."

  "Like rushing head first into something you shouldn't be involved with?"

  "Says the girl whose rashness got us out of Agnar."

  "Rash?" Keeping one foot firmly planted, she made her way along the blocks. "I thought what I did was pretty darn cunning."

  "Bova wanted to help us."

  "She might have wanted to help, but that didn't mean she could."

  "I think we should have taken her help." Carter stacked an overstuffed basket onto three bedrolls and then cracked his knuckles. He pointed, and Doug rose into the air, bumping his head against the doorframe to the wheelhouse. "Oops."

  "We want him to get better, remember?"

  "He's fine, I think..." He set Doug down by the bedrolls, took a moment to inspect him, and then nodded in approval. "We are golden. He's good."

  Alex reached the widest gap in the stone blocks. It was maybe two strides wide. She would have to jump it or let Carter lift her, though any extra exertion on his part wasn't good. He needed to stay as rested as possible to carry Doug at least until they could put together a makeshift sleigh or something.

  She jumped.

  Her toes touched down on the other side of the gap and the stone block crumbled.

  Letting momentum take her, she flopped forward, making her body as flat as possible. Her chest and hands crashed into the crumbling stone block while her feet dangled over the white water. Laying there, she could feel the stone cracking beneath her. She army crawled across the rotting stone, not daring to stand. She imagined this must be what it felt like to cross melting ice.

  Reaching the next stone block, she pounded it with a fist, testing it. It held strong and she slid her weight onto it. Standing, the rest of the walk was without incident, though she grumbled at Carter beating her to the rock beach.

  With a single word and flick of the wrist, Carter lifted himself, Doug, and their supplies the fifty or so parses. "We should camp here, or at least give me some time to recover."

  The start of the spiral road lay but five steps away, and the glow from the gap in the ceiling teased her. They were so close to seeing daylight again, but if Carter needed to rest, she couldn't argue. "That's fine. I was thinking we could make a hammock out of one of the bedrolls for Doug. Maybe together we can drag him instead of you having to magic him?"

  "That sounds good." Carter drew an agyl, lighting up the beach. The rocky walls lining the cavern twinkled. "What is that?"

  From the corner of her eye she saw a bit of movement.

  "Did you see that?" he asked.

  "No, what was it?"

  "Something small and quick."

  Carter put his back to her, and when he did, she saw a smooth lump on his neck. It matched the color of his skin, but as she stared at it longer, six limbs squished against a pod-like body became clear.

  "Ahhh." Carter swatted at his neck, and before his hand struck the lump, the creature had crawled out of reach. "Something cold."

  "Don't move."

  "What, why?"

  "Because there is something on you." Alex drew her short sword. Stabbing the thing would be too risky, considering how quickly it moved, but if she could get the blade underneath it, she might be able to pry it free.

  "Then get it off!"

  "What do you think I'm doing? Hold still." Feigning as if she would move in from the right, she instead went left and jammed the flat of the blade against Carter's neck. Too slow. The thing hopped out of the way.

  "What is it? It's so cold it burns."

  "It's the size of a frog, but smooth. It jumped off your neck and..."

  Doug lay sprawled on the beach. Six of the things clung to his arms and face.

  "Prösenta!"

  A blast of wind slammed into Doug. The egg-like centers of the creatures' bodies popped into the air, and two were thrown off. The rest held on with suction-tipped legs.

  Alex wrapped her forearm in her cloak to keep the things from sticking to her. Together with Carter's magic, they wiped the things off Doug.

  "What were they doing to him?" She asked.

  "From what I felt on my neck, I think they were eating or drinking his body heat. Sucking it up like pasta."

  "We can't let that happen again. You take watch that way, and I'll watch..."

  The rock walls along the beach shifted from a midnight black to a bright blue. Hundreds of the creatures skittered back and forth while more descended from the glowing cavern above.

  30

  Evacuation

  Ornsday, 4th of Winewen, 1162.111

  Gideon had no control over the crowd. He knew that, but he wasn't ready to give up. He could still end this in an orderly manner. The palace had been easy to evacuate. All nonmilitary personnel were ordered to leave, and they left. Trying to clear out the rest of Elene had been a disaster.

  Shop owners and residents whose families had resided in Elene for generations didn't want to leave, and the refugees felt a false sense of safety in the city. The mandate from Edgar had been clear and warned the people of the coming army. Still they refused to go. The people did not want to believe that an army of dragons was on its way, and so what should have been an orderly evacuation was on the verge of turning into a riot.

  Gideon stood in one of the smaller city squares watching two soldiers, with swords drawn, break into a potter's store. Behind him, the crowd hissed, and several threw chunks of hardened food.

  "Enough!" Gideon shouted so everyone in the square could hear. "You know me. I would not be here if this was not dangerous!”

  "Gorph licker!" An elderly woman with thin eyebrows threw a glass bottle at Gideon. It struck him in the chest, bouncing off his leather armor, and shattered on the cobblestone. "I don't pay taxes so you can force me from my home!"

  "If you stay you will die," Gideon said. "The dragons will see to that!"

  "Lies! There is no dragon army." The woman yelled, making a guttural sound, and those around her did the same, showing a force of solidarity. "A plague upon the king and his spoiled daughter!"

  A soldier wearing armor a size too big, tapped Gideon on the shoulder. Speaking low, he leaned in close. "There is a problem in the potter's shop."

  "What?" Gideon asked.

  "Two teens attacked Goderik."

  "How bad did he hurt them?" Dead teenagers would be a fuel to send the crowd into a full riot.

  "He didn't," the soldier said. "The teens ran a spear through his shoulder. They said the next one to enter the shop will get it through the heart."

&n
bsp; "I'll deal with it. You deal with this." Gideon nodded to the crowd. "Keep them calm and in no circumstances use any kind of violence."

  The soldier thudded his chest.

  Gideon entered the potter's shop. It was dark. The windows were boarded, and a single agyl lamp lit the room.

  Two teens sat behind a pathetic attempt of a barricade made from tables that had been turned over, baskets, and wooden crates. "Leave or we'll kill you." It was a girl who said it. She had fair skin and couldn't have been a day over twelve.

  "I've done it before." A boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, held a Kelsam spear. It was an ornamental piece. Its metal cap and tip were polished and sharp, but it would break against any real weapon.

  "There is no need for anyone else to get hurt," Gideon said.

  "We agree," the girl said. "Leave and we won't hurt you."

  "The king has ordered–"

  "He ain't our king," the boy said. He had a western accent that Gideon hadn't picked up on at first. These two weren't Elene locals.

  The dragon attacks hadn't spread past the Freelands. Depending on where exactly the children were from, they may not know about the dragon attacks. From their clothing and the meat on their bones, they surely weren't refugees.

  "Where are your parents?" Gideon asked.

  "In Yorndrak." The girl spit on the floor. "May The Silver Lady bless them."

  "Quiet," the boy said. "We don't have to answer to him."

  Although the children had dismantled the shop to make their barricade, they hadn't wrecked anything. No broken ceramics or pottery lay on the floor. What they had done, they had done with care.

  "Last warning. Get out." The boy tightened his grip on the spear. Clay had caked beneath his fingernails.

  "Who else is here?" Gideon looked toward the back of the shop where a set of stairs led to the second story.