by Dante King
I held Ebon ready but didn’t strike, even though her neck was exposed and her rider was stunned.
“Hate!”
The word was spoken in a feminine voice and struck my mind like a salt-dipped whip. It had come from Silver. She was still in command of her thoughts, or at least some of them. The word seemed to explode from her mind like a grenade directed at the entire universe, rather than at me or anyone else in particular.
“Kill!”
I felt the thought wash over me like a sea of hot stones. I raised Ebon and caught a whiff of something familiar. It clawed its way into my nose, planted itself in my brain, and calmed me. The scent was both dangerous and familiar.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Yaltu standing in front of her seat. She had her concealing robe sleeves pulled all the way up to her shoulders. Her hood was off, and she looked like she was sweating. Pheromones, I realized. She was attempting to sway me, to calm me with her pheromones so I wouldn’t kill her dragon. Well, I had no intention of killing Silver. But I did want to kill the vrak who rode her.
I kicked off from the forcefield and landed a few feet from Silver and her rider, who’d recovered and was trying to get the dragon back into the fight.
The sound of clashing steel drew my attention to Reaver and Beatrix. My fellow Marine had acquired a shield from the cart and was using it to protect one of the black dragons, whose rider had been beheaded but stubbornly remained in the saddle. The crowd was muted as they watched the fights unfold.
The dragon Reaver was protecting lashed out at her, but she blocked the savage bite with her own shield. Beatrix stood with a warhammer raised in both hands, but took a few steps away, obviously confused. It wasn’t until she lowered it a bit that I could see the head of the hammer was glowing red. An energy weapon of some kind, perhaps?
While Beatrix blocked the dragon’s swings with her warhammer, Reaver snatched a pair of sabres from the wagon. The other black dragon had joined to harass Beatrix, her rider still very much alive.
“Hup, hup!” she barked as she approached the fight.
Apparently, gladiators had their own language. After delivering a vicious smash to the leg of the surviving rider, Beatrix took a knee.
Reaver used the woman’s shoulders to launch herself into the air, finishing off the guard with the shattered leg. On the way down, she threw one of her blades, and it buried itself deep into the shield of the guard riding Silver. The attack hadn’t killed him, but he reeled back in his saddle and howled at the impact.
Silver broke off from the fight and backed up at the command of her injured rider as he attempted to extract the blade from his arm. I approached at a trot. Once I was sure I was close enough, I sprinted the final 10 yards and hit the rider with a hard tackle. We crashed to the ground and slid for several seconds with me on top of him. When I raised my fist, prepared to pound the guard into a quivering pile of flesh, I realized he wasn’t moving.
When I stood, I saw that the guard had done an excellent job of strapping himself to his mount. So good, in fact, that the part which had been strapped-in, his lower part, was still in the saddle. A long string of bloody intestines still connected both halves, but he was clearly dead.
“What now?” Reaver called out.
“Corral the dragons!” I said. “Bring them in here. No killing!”
They went to follow my orders without hesitation. We executed a series of feints against both black dragons, who didn’t seem as aggressive when they weren’t being ridden. Whenever one of the dragons snapped or got too close, we would punish them with a slap to the face from our weapons. It wouldn’t truly hurt them, but it would sting a little.
A thundering noise brought my attention to the last threat. The gold dragon, who’d kept out of the fight so far, was charging. Her rider whipped her with a glowing chain and drove the poor creature forward. I could see smoke rising from her haunches and the wicked grin of her rider, who apparently thought I’d stand in one place and accept my fate.
I had other plans.
I waited until the last second, until I could see Gold’s eyes focused on me, feigned to my right, then took a big step to the left. As the dragon passed, unable to stop or turn quickly enough to attack me, I grabbed her rider by a foot and yanked him from the dragon’s back. He landed with a resounding thud.
He snarled a curse at me. “You will die, human. The king will—”
“Bullshit,” I said, just before I stomped his head flat.
Gold was standing completely still, almost at the far end of the arena. I joined Reaver and Beatrix in driving the black dragons back toward Silver, who looked to be as tame as a puppy. From within the nearby stands, Yaltu stood with her arms out, working her pheromones.
Both black dragons, riderless and afraid, backed away from us. They must have had a limited supply of acid, because their spitting completely stopped.
“Destroy and kill,” said the one on the left, her voice entering my mind.
“Eat, destroy, kill,” the dragon on the right added.
Though I sensed fear and hatred from them, they weren’t attacking me, so I figured they were being affected by Yaltu’s pheromones. I slowed my pace, not wanting to completely corner the creatures before Yaltu could finish whatever she was doing. Their thoughts assaulted my mind, promises of vengeance and carnage.
Then, their chaotic thoughts cleared a bit, then a little more. They were overcoming whatever their owners had done to them in their experiments. The posture of the tortured creatures shifted as they stood straighter, taller, and more proudly than before.
The crowd continued its uncertain murmur.
Gold recovered, dragging her broken rider by a leg caught in her saddle. Beatrix spun with her glowing technological hammer in her right hand.
“Hold them here,” I ordered. “I’ll take Gold. Keep them near the woman in the stands.” I motioned toward the stands in a gesture that would be invisible to anyone except Beatrix and Reaver. “You see her? Yeah, that’s the one. Bring the dragons to her.”
Without hesitation, Beatrix spun back toward the black dragons and shook her hammer at one when the creature’s jaws snapped in her direction. I charged Gold and heard a few of the spectators cheer. They wanted blood, but so far, it hadn’t gone the way they’d expected. The few holdouts who were worried about getting their money’s worth cheered me on, probably hoping I’d split the enslaved dragon right down the middle.
As I neared her, Gold lowered her massive head to my level and opened her gaping mouth, metallic teeth glinting under the arena lights. I’d seen a dragon breathe fire before, but I didn’t see any plasma burning down her throat.
Gold’s diamond-shaped pupils bored holes into me. She had been too far away to benefit from Yaltu’s pheromones, even though I could smell them from here.
I had to break her free from the tech that was controlling her. I rotated Ebon in my grip, pressing the back of the blade against my forearm with the pommel facing the dragon. I wasn’t sure which piece of tech to target.
I kicked off the ground with one foot, cartwheeled in the air, planted a hand against a big tooth, and struck a piece of tech that had been implanted near her nose.
The device caved in, sparked, and its outer shell fell away, revealing complicated-looking circuitry. A moment later, the creature flung her tail and caught me in the ribs. The blow sent me spinning through the air. I hit the ground and rolled with the impact.
Rather than finish me off, Gold sprinted past me and crashed into the forcefield, causing it to bow outward. When Gold bounced off the field, the pressure of the elastic forcefield crushed the first row of stands in a ripple of yellow energy. Entrails and limbs showered the air until all that remained of the haughty spectators were broken seats, fancy clothing, and a modern art impressionist painting made of their blood and internal organs.
When I’d struck the piece of tech near Gold’s nose, I figured I’d made her insane.
“Flee!”
&n
bsp; The telepathy ground into my mind like a riot of fear and pain. No, I hadn’t made her insane, I’d made her afraid. She wanted out of the arena, even if it meant crashing into an impenetrable forcefield.
Gold staggered, falling in and out of the mind-control tech’s influence. She charged into the forcefield again, and a boom echoed from the spot as she was launched backward. The forcefield started to dissipate, until there was a gap of about twenty yards long.
“We need to go!” Reaver yelled as she looked up at the sky. It wouldn’t take long for the king’s skiffs to show up again and prevent us from escaping.
Gold stomped the ground in rage, then hesitated. She turned on me, bloodlust evident in her eyes, then cowered a moment later.
“Go, join the others!” I ordered.
Gold roared, a sound like the inside of an escape pod as it tore a burning hole through the atmosphere. If she charged, I was afraid I’d have to kill her to make her quit. Instead, she stopped, breaking the influence of the controlling restraints again.
Warm thoughts flooded the arena grounds. The other dragons were calling to her. Yaltu still held her arms-out position, but her guards leveled their weapons and kept the audience at bay. They were armed with rifles and looked just as frightened as the dragons.
I followed Gold to the others as I kept Ebon ready, just in case she snapped and attacked anyone. But she made it all the way, lured and calmed by Yaltu’s chemical embrace. Then, Yaltu turned to one of the black dragons and whispered something. The dragon turned to her companions and began chewing on them—no—chewing on their tech. The black dragon made careful bites, and when each winced or tried to back away, she held on with her front claws, fearlessly holding them in place.
One by one, their true voices returned, except for Gold. Though their voices were all unique, Gold’s still maintained an artificial edge.
“Break the metal and the bonds,” a black dragon whispered.
“Kill… help… break…” Gold’s unspoken voice strained against an invisible force from within.
I wondered if her implants had been too deep or too extensive, but at least she wasn’t trying to kill me.
“Destroy the king,” one of the black dragons said.
“Kill and destroy them all,” the other added.
“Protect Yaltu,” the third said. “She has saved us. She must escape.”
They turned to Gold and waited for her thought to speak to them, but the only emotion Gold sent was sorrow. Her thoughts were full of pain.
“Gold,” I said, not knowing the creature’s real name. “Will you help us escape? I need to ride you to make it happen. Will you allow it?”
Though the dragon didn’t answer, she did flood me with the warmth of trust and thankfulness. Following that, she sent horrific images and pictures of what she wanted to do to the guards and spectators.
I chanced it and climbed onto the creature’s back. The golden dragon bucked a little but soon calmed as I stroked her back.
I turned to Beatrix and Reaver. “Climb on their backs of the others and follow me. Gold doesn’t want to escape. She wants to destroy as many guards as she can. She also wants to level the city if she can manage it. She’ll cover our escape, but you must stay close. The forcefield won’t be down for long.”
Both women nodded and carefully approached the black dragons. They allowed themselves to be mounted, though the one Beatrix was on seemed to feel a lot of pain as she did so. The dragon’s saddle had been permanently mounted to her body, and without the mind-numbing effects of the tech, she began to feel everything.
“Charge!” I yelled when they were ready.
Gold led the pack of dragons, and we passed cleanly through the hole in the forcefield before we crashed into the grandstands. I threw myself from Gold’s back as the creature plowed into the seating and sent the audience flying. Gold crushed a vrak guard with her massive maw, sent another flying with a savage swing of her tail, and barrelled through the crowd.
I spun and saw Reaver and Beatrix astride their dragons as they charged through the shattered shield. The dragons surged over the stands and turned the wood into sawdust under their massive claws.
“Heads up!” Reaver shouted as her dragon bounded toward me.
A second later, I caught Reaver’s offered arm and swung myself onto her mount’s back. I remembered Yaltu’s advice and clamped my knees against the black dragon’s flank behind Reaver.
Silver hesitated for a moment, looking between the black dragons and Gold as if she couldn’t decide what to do.
Skrew came out of the crowd like a hyperactive arrow and scrambled onto the dragon behind me. He clung onto my back, gripping me tightly with all four of his arms. The little guy probably looked like a horrified backpack.
“Jacob fight! Jacob win! Jacob flee!”
“Soon,” I said. “Where’s Yaltu?”
“There!”
A fight broke out among the crowd, and I saw a group of armed people shoving others away. I saw a woman needling her way through the masses and realized she was Yaltu. The scaled woman broke away from the terrified crowd and climbed onto the black dragon behind Beatrix. The screaming spectators crashed into one another, climbed over each other, and did whatever else they could to escape.
“Take back what was stolen from you!” Yaltu called to Silver, who gave her a quick bow and took off after Gold. They were targeting those who had brought them the most suffering, the gladiatorial guards. The audience fell over each other in an effort to avoid the brutal charge of the freed dragons.
“They are free,” Yaltu said. “For better or not, they are free.”
“Then let’s get the fuck out of this city!” Reaver yelled.
Now, we just had to fight our way out of Brazud.
Simple enough.
Chapter Thirty
Beatrix took the lead on her dragon since she knew the city better than any of us. After emerging from a covered breezeway between two buildings and clearing the arena complex, Beatrix’s dragon made a hard right turn and almost threw Yaltu from the first dragon. Beatrix caught hold of the dragon-tamer’s arm with her tentacles and pulled her back into place.
“Destroy!”
The word pinballed between the dragons. It was primal. Any intelligence they once possessed had been destroyed by their implants. The only thing keeping them from attacking us was Yaltu.
I scanned the complex for hostiles and heard a high-pitched whirr behind us. I couldn’t see them, but I figured the king’s skiffs had just showed up to the party.
Around a second corner, our dragon overshot her turn and tried to compensate, but with so much weight on her back, she wasn’t going to make it. Luckily, there was a metal light pole nearby. I grasped the dragon tightly with my legs and hooked the pole with my right arm as we passed.
The dragon’s feet left the ground and waggled helplessly in the air as we made the hard right turn. I let go, and after sliding for a foot and a half, the dragon quickly recovered, and we were back on course. The feat hadn’t been too difficult, but I felt like I had a rug-burn on my arm from the friction against the pole.
Without wings to fly, the black dragons bounded over smaller objects and darted around larger ones. I held on to Reaver with one hand and the back of her saddle with the other. I shifted my grip again and again while Skrew jabbered nonsense in my ear.
We reached a wider street, and the swarms of people dove for cover. Washing lines, archways, and stretches of electric wiring threatened to tear us from our mounts as we barrelled down the streets.
Beatrix’s dragon slowed so that we could come astride her.
“Where are we going?” Reaver asked the other woman. “Do you have a plan?”
Beatrix looked to me before shrugging. “We will head toward the wall. Hopefully, these things can climb as well as they can run. If—”
The noise of vehicles thundering overhead cut her off, and I looked to see two guards riding hoverbikes racing toward us from b
ehind.
I tossed Ebon from hand to hand and cut through guylines and signposts to keep our pursuers from catching up. The bikes seemed to be courier vehicles—fast but unarmed. The guards, however, had pistols and were giving us hell.
The first went down when I cut a washing line above my head. The other got tangled up, spun around a dozen times like a jump-rope, and drilled himself into the ground in an orange explosion.
Yaltu almost collapsed out of the saddle again, and I realized that we were working on borrowed time. Our mounts were following Yaltu’s directions, but if she passed out, and her pheromones stopped working? Then, the dragons would see us as the vrak riders.
More whines announced the arrival of another squad of hoverbikes.
“We need to find a vehicle!” I called to Beatrix. “We can’t ride these dragons forever!”
“I know where one is,” she yelled above the din of the pursuing enemies. “The city guard’s barracks! Come on, dragon, move!”
Up ahead, some vendors had strung ropes between their stone stalls to create a kind of covered path. Lights hung from the ropes and suggested that there was a feed of electricity running through them. There were dozens of cords, all begging to be cut.
Skrew started to slip off the back of the dragon, obviously distracted by something, and started to pull me down with him. I turned, unsure if I wanted to save him or strangle him myself, but it gave me the opportunity to take another look at the guards who were chasing us. They held halberds, pointed directly at us.
“Skrew is going to dieeeeee!” he screeched almost directly into my ear.
I pulled him back onto the back of the dragon, and the beast staggered in the opposite direction. I was forced to stick my foot out to keep the dragon from crashing into a ramshackle apartment building we were passing. I had expected the shock of the impact to hurt, but it felt no different than falling from three yards and onto my feet.
The hoverbikes continued pursuing us, and they didn’t see the path of the ropes and wires crisscrossing between buildings. The flailing supports snapped into the guards and ripped them out of their vehicles.
