“Gads, I’m strong! You must weigh over two hundred pounds.”
He eyed the next rock, floating fifteen feet away and five feet up. Nath gathered his legs underneath him and leapt. A second later, he landed and slid on the stone. The rock teetered. Nath flailed his good arm for balance and righted himself.
“Whew! I have this now … I think.”
He made the next leap. Three. Five. Ten more. Bounded from stone to stone like a black-scaled frog. The Floating City greeted him. Stark and Vast. A mountain in the air. Nath felt small. It’s much bigger up close.
Across one more chasm, a set of stairs was carved into the great rock, leading up into the city. So this is a pathway, after all. He judged the distance between him and the narrow steps on the other side. It was farther than it had looked from below, every bit of thirty feet. With a dragon latched onto his arm.
“This wouldn’t be hard if you just let go,” he said to the dragon. Its eyes were closed. “Enjoying the ride, are we?”
A chorus of roars echoed above in the towers of the city. The dragons were coming back from the chase. His mind raced, arguing with itself.
You have to do this, Dragon. You have to. But how? It’s too far. This blasted dragon is too heavy. Bayzog’s going to die if you don’t get moving. What choice do I have? I’ve done my best.
He slipped Dragon Claw out of his belt where he’d tucked it in earlier.
The dragon’s eye popped open.
CHAPTER 31
Faylan the satyr stood inside her tent, arms crossed over her chest with her bottom lip trembling. Her hooved feet had worn a track in the dirt floor where she’d paced for hours. Her brother, Finlin, was dead. The draykis, all of them, had been wiped out. And she’d have to answer to the High Priestess for it.
“But not just yet,” she whispered, resuming her pacing.
Everything had been going so well! She’d captured Nath Dragon, so she’d thought, and sent him straight to Selene. However, things had gone downward from there. The lock of hair from the man’s head had withered away, leaving doubt whether or not it was Nath Dragon at all. If it wasn’t, then certainly the report from Selene would not be good, but no bad news was forthcoming as of yet. However, she could feel trouble in her hooves.
“I hate dwarves,” she snarled. “And I’ll kill them all.”
It wouldn’t be easy. Now, with the draykis gone, the army she commanded had become loose in discipline. Many had deserted. Her authority had already been challenged before, but now she very thinly held command.
She did hold command of her army, though. Although she was a woman, she was still stronger and quicker than most men. A half-orc had died horribly under her hooves, making him an example to others.
A tall man in partial-plate armor stepped inside her tent. His hair was braided, and he had a dark and swarthy look about him. He brought his heels together and nodded.
“I’ve rounded up a few deserters,” he said.
“Hang them,” she said. She grabbed her girdle off the planning table and buckled it on. “Before the sun sets.”
He nodded and his eyes slid back and forth to hers.
“What is it?” she said, aggravated.
“The troops are uneasy and keep asking about our orders. They fear the craftiness of the dwarves, now that the draykis are gone.”
“The High Priestess wants the dwarves eliminated,” she said, toying with the gem amulet around her neck. “Tell them the death of the dwarves is their orders.”
He nodded, said, “Yes, Commander Faylan,” and disappeared through the tent flap.
Faylan rubbed the hair between her thorns. She’d lied about the High Priestess giving that order, but they didn’t know that. She fingered the amulet. So long as she had the object that helped control the draykis, she had some control. The soldiers didn’t know what it did, and for now that would be enough.
“Fear the dwarves?” she said. “There’s only a handful of them, and we’re a hundred strong. We’ll get them soon enough—ack!”
She jumped aside.
The body of the tall man in partial-plate armor burst through the tent flap and collapsed on the floor. He was dead.
She pulled out her knife and backed away from the entrance.
A scaly arm shoved the flap aside, and the hulking form of a draykis stepped inside. Its beady eyes glowed like emeralds in their sockets. Great leathery wings were on its back, unlike on other draykis. It glared at her and said, “The High Priestess demands a report.”
Looking up at the towering figure, Faylan swallowed hard. Her fingers wrapped around the amulet.
“Watch your tone with me, Draykis.”
Its lips curled back over its fangs, and it stepped forward. Reached for her.
She summoned the amulet’s power.
It wrapped its huge clawed paw around her neck.
“Your amulet does not work on me,” it said, lifting her toes from the ground, “only on those under its enchantment. Where are they, Goat Feet?”
Faylan didn’t want to say. She’d rather die than admit the truth to the draykis. The High Priestess would kill her anyway. She croaked out unintelligible words.
“What’s that?” it said. “And bear in mind, your answer will bear your life or death, and the High Priestess demands the truth.” It released her.
She gasped for air and finally craned her neck upward.
I’ve no choice but to be truthful. I hate that!
“Dead,” she said, dejected. “Dwarves killed them … and my brother.”
“Dwarves?” Its knuckles cracked. “Dwarves killed all the draykis?”
“Buried them in a mountain,” she said. “It was my foolish brother’s fault.”
It swatted her across the face, knocking her into the table and sprawling her on the tent floor. Her entire horned head rang. She shook it.
“You are responsible for this,” it said. “Not your dead brother. Unfortunate for them.”
It came forward, flexing its layers of scaled muscles. Faylan had never feared death, or anything, for that matter, until now. At this moment, death felt inevitable. She raised her arms and prepared to beg for mercy, but how does one receive mercy from the dead?
“Get up,” it said. “We’ve work to do.”
“What?” She said, rising to her hooved feet, heart jumping.
“Selene is pleased with your prisoner,” the draykis said. “Come.” It disappeared through the tent flap.
It was him. It was Nath Dragon! I did it! She pumped her fist, held her chin high, and strode outside. Yes! She stopped in her tracks. A great shadow covered her. Her body trembled. Oh my!
A great bronze dragon leered down at her. Its great wings were black, and its dark tail swept the ground behind it. It was the one that had flown off with the cage that carried Nath Dragon in it. At least she thought it was. The winged draykis stood facing her, with its back to the dragon.
It could eat him in a single bite. Me as well.
Only the High Priestess had ever made her feel smaller.
“This dragon,” the draykis said, glancing back at the great creature, “the High Priestess has sent to assist you with things. Myself as well. And unlike the draykis, I don’t think the dwarves will be able to bury this dragon.”
“What kind of dragon is it?”
“The kind that crushes people.”
“Dwarven people?” she asked.
“Like eggs.”
The bronze dragon reared up its serpentine neck and let out an ear-splitting roar.
Ears covered, Faylan smiled.
CHAPTER 32
Dragon Claw in hand, Nath said to the dragon in his arms, “This would be easier if you could fly. Are you sure you won’t let go?”
The spiny-backed crawler’s eyes were wide and still.
Nath shook his head. Not so long ago, he had defeated a fully grown grey scaler and felt invincible. Now, he was humbled by a small dragon. It made him angry. Fueled his blood. He e
yed the steps and snarled.
“I can do this.”
He shuffled back to the farthest edge of the floating rock.
“If you aren’t going to let go, then don’t start moving now.”
Summoning his anger, pulling the dragon closer, and holding the ready dagger in his hand, Nath dashed over the rock, one step, two steps, and leapt with all his strength. He sailed through the air on target. I’m going to make it! A gust of wind knocked him off course. No! He collided with the rock to the right of the stairs.
But Dragon Claw bit into the stone, and with one dragon arm, Nath hung on, dangling over the river.
“Great Guzan!”
The steps were several feet away.
“Would you let go of my arm!”
The spiny-backed crawler didn’t respond. Nath knew dragons were smart, but he was convinced this was the stupidest one he’d ever met.
“An orc has better sense,” he barked at it.
Its teeth bit deeper.
“Gads that hurts! At least I know you’re listening.”
He looked down at the river. The only thing to do was start all over and hope he could somehow get this dragon off his arm.
“I hope you like water. You’re about to get a snout-full of it.” He shook his mane. “If only I had wings.”
He slackened his grip.
The dragon grrrr’d.
“What?”
The dragon’s long tail stretched out, wrapped around the top post of the stone banister, and pulled them toward it. Nath could feel it taking some weight off him.
“You’d better not let go now, Crazy Dragon.”
Nath jerked the blade from the rock and used his arm attached to the spiny-back to swing over to the stairs. He jabbed the blade into the rock, steadied himself, and crawled up from there.
“Thank Guzan!”
He gritted his teeth. The pain in his arm was killing him, but at least his arm was still there.
“I don’t guess you’re going to let go now either.”
He swore it shook its head.
“Fine.”
Nath gathered the dragon in his good arm again and started up the stairs, but the dragon’s tail was still tethered to the post.
Nath wanted to scream but didn’t.
“You really do want me to kill you, don’t you?” He sat down on the steps and slid Dragon Claw through his belt. “This is ridiculous.”
It seemed the dragon was intent on doing its job and alerting its masters to his presence and that no method of coercion or compassion was going to change its mind. Nath logged through his memories. Dragons had weaknesses. He didn’t know them all, but he knew many. He poked at it. Tried to tickle it. Pried at its jaw with his claws with no avail. Stout as stone, the dragon didn’t move. It just breathed softly through its nostrils. In and out. In and out.
“Hm,” Nath said, grimacing. The dragon was wearing on him. The shard in his ribs throbbed, too. “Let me try this.” He covered the dragon’s small nose holes up with his fingers.
The dragon’s glittering eyes widened. Dragons could hold their breath a long time, but not forever. They were nose breathers, too. Exhaling through the mouth would bring forth a breath weapon of fire. Nath was mindful of that.
“This might take hours,” Nath sighed, eyeing the sky.
Dragons glided above, returning to their roosts in the towers, out of sight. Nath remained crouched in the stairwell. Stay focused. For Bayzog, remember.
The spiny-backed crawler flinched. Its jaws popped open.
Nath jerked his arm away.
Yes!
The dragon filled its lungs with air, and a stream of hot flames shot out, blasting into the rock.
Nath leapt away from the scorching heat and bounded up the stairs. The dragon scrambled after him, claws scraping over the stones. He whirled to confront it.
It lunged.
Nath leapt over its head, snatched its tail, and dragged it down the steps.
“I’ve had enough of you!”
With a quick powerful jerk, he slung the dragon by its tail over his head and into the open sky. One wing spread wide and flapped feverishly, but it didn’t slow. It spiraled downward and plunged into the water with a small splash.
Nath hated to do it. He’d hoped to make an ally of the dragon, but that plan had failed.
They can be stubborn things.
He checked his throbbing arm.
Deep teeth marks gashed his flesh. Blood seeped onto his scales. He could barely move his trembling fingers.
“At least I still have my arm.”
He lumbered up the steps and made his way into the city. It was desolate. Dark and dreary. The deteriorating buildings blocked the light of the setting sun and cast enormous shadows throughout the city. The winds howled through the streets like banshees. What was once magnificent was now cold and unwelcoming. A foreboding feeling overcame him. Nath stepped into an archway, concealing himself from the skies.
I’m here. Now what?
He pulled Fang out. The metal was cool and welcoming. He slipped Dragon Claw from his belt and held both weapons out before him. He could barely move the arm that held the gleaming dagger.
“I’ve a feeling I’m going to need both of you.”
He slid Dragon Claw back inside Fang’s hilt and removed a vial from his jerkin. The yellow liquid sparkled with energy. He had pulled off the cork and put the vial to his lips when he stopped himself, replaced the cork, and tucked the potion back inside his jerkin.
Closing his hand in and out a few times on his bad arm, got up and started moving.
“I’ve handled worse.”
***
This enormous floating rock was more of a graveyard than a city. Skeletons of fallen warriors were scattered throughout, decorated in death, weapons, and armor. Doors creaked and groaned. Shutters banged into the buildings. The wind howled like ghouls, stirring the fine hairs on Nath’s neck. He stayed under the porches, awnings and overhangs, walking on cat’s feet with every step. He knew that the dragons above, wherever they were, had eyes and ears just as sharp as his.
Nath stood inside the great stone archway of a cathedral. The great wooden door with brass fixtures was closed. He tugged on it, but it didn’t budge. He’d been in and out of dozens of buildings already. Most all of them were open. Doors busted down. Windows shattered. Walls burned to the ground. It looked like war had run roughshod through it.
He combed the hair out of his eyes with his wounded arm. The pain wasn’t as bad, but his frustration was getting worse. Whoever mined the jaxite had to get here somehow, but he’d yet to find a single stairway down. Certainly there had to be a tunnel of some kind near, or something.
A dragon’s roar rang out above. It was followed by another and another. They were talking to one another. Bickering. Bragging. One had consumed more golden hornets than the other. Dragons liked to do that. Boast to one another. Nath was glad to hear it. They aren’t on to me yet. A good thing.
He pressed his ear to the door. Maybe only the dead are inside. He heard nothing. He’d never been in a city so quiet before. The normal sounds were gone: rat claws scratching over wood or stone, a cat mewing, birds roosting in rafters and spires. Nothing ordinary was there at all. He pulled his ear away.
This is maddening. There has to be some living thing here, mining.
He looked down the streets. They ran over a mile from one side to the other. The buildings numbered in the hundreds, the streets in dozens. Nath never had a problem finding a needle in a haystack, but now he couldn’t find anything.
I wish Brenwar were here. He could find a hole into the ground blindfolded. He shook his head. He’d been mean to Brenwar. Difficult. Disrespectful. He never thought about it much, but recently he’d come to realize why. Brenwar was a constant reminder of his failure to please his father. The dwarf knew everything. His triumphs. His failures. And Brenwar himself was sort of a father-figure to Nath as well. He’d not only failed his father,
but his friend too. He opened up his hand and rubbed the white scales in his palm with his fingers. They hadn’t gotten any bigger or smaller. No change at all.
Am I doing anything right?
Sheathing his weapons and then clenching his fists in frustration, he stormed down the steps and into the street, where he kneeled down and put his ear to the ground. Minutes passed, but the only thing he heard was his breathing.
Gads!
He wanted to scream. Even with all of his powers, he felt helpless. There was nothing to see. Nothing to fight. No one to talk to. Building by building, door by door, he searched one street at a time. Stopping. Looking. Listening. Sometimes he jogged. Sometimes he sprinted, dashing from one cover to another from the eyes above. He didn’t sense that the dragons had any idea he was here, but he did feel something. An unsettling presence that tightened his shoulders.
Someone has to be here doing something. Keep searching, Dragon. Keep searching. Hmmm. Maybe I need a better look at things.
Earlier, he’d noticed bell towers that stood dozens of feet tall. Most cities had them in Nalzambor. They were a message system that could be heard from one side of the city to the other. The rhythmic ringing of the bells could bring cheer or spell doom. Nath headed for the nearest one he had seen, an enclosed stone tower about ten feet wide, with a single door that led inside. It was open.
At least I won’t be running into any pigeon hawks in there.
Inside he went and headed up the wooden steps that hugged the wall of the stone bell tower. Everything was pitch black above, but he could make out the outlines of the wall. The steps creaked a little under his weight. He stopped. Lifted his foot and tried another step. It was more solid. He continued his ascent, some steps groaning, others not.
Just keep moving. The dragons shouldn’t be able to hear you over all these high winds. Or through these stone walls.
Platform after platform, he headed toward the top. The only things he sensed were his wounded arm and the shard in his ribs.
Truly a sad thing when only pain will keep your company.
Strife In The Sky (Book 7) Page 11
