Nightfall

by Den Patrick

  ‘This concerns your recent conversation with the Emperor,’ said Zima.

  There was dreadful stillness about him that put Ruslan on edge. The Boyar drew a short knife from the sheath at his hip and began to sharpen it slowly with a whetstone. The sound scratched its way across every polished surface in the room, including Ruslan.

  ‘I can’t very well do the Emperor’s bidding,’ replied the Boyar, ‘if my own aide doesn’t know what I’m trying to achieve.’ He curled his lip in irritation, an expression he usually reserved for incompetent servants back in Vend. Ruslan blinked in surprise. The Boyar’s anger was a welcome change to the pall of despair that had hung over him, but to talk in such a way to an Exarch was unwise in the extreme.

  ‘Very well,’ said Exarch Zima and stepped towards to the chair opposite.

  ‘I did not give you permission to sit,’ said the Boyar. Zima stiffened, paused, then took a step back and folded the fingers of his good hand into a fist.

  ‘Do you have anything to report?’ said the Exarch in a quiet voice loaded with impatience.

  ‘I have barely had a week since with my audience with the Emperor.’ The Boyar continued sharpening the knife. ‘He has asked me to find a needle in a proverbial haystack, or more accurately a needle that doesn’t wish to be found.’

  ‘The Emperor doesn’t care for proverbs,’ replied Zima smoothly. ‘Only results.’

  ‘I am completely ostracized by the court, my contacts here refuse to return my messages—’

  ‘The ruse of your disgrace is necessary to lure Steiner Vartiainen out of hiding.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t seek me out?’ asked Boyar Sokolov with a despondent tone. He ceased sharpening the knife for a moment and his eyes lost their focus.

  ‘Are you reneging on the scheme so kindly offered by the Emperor?’

  ‘Perhaps the Okhrana have had more luck than I in finding the needle?’ The Boyar resumed his maddening scrape, scrape of the whetstone on the short blade.

  ‘The Emperor set this task before you and for good reason,’ added Zima.

  ‘The Emperor set this task before me because he killed my son, and that makes people think I might join the rebels.’

  Zima tilted his head to one side as if thinking this through. ‘Strange. I had thought the task some form of penance for your son’s treason.’ Ruslan couldn’t know for sure on account of the mask, but if he had to guess he would have bet a month’s wage the Exarch was smiling.

  ‘We both know Dimitri was innocent. He wasn’t clever enough to get wrapped up in such intrigue. The Emperor knew it and more to the point I know it.’

  ‘And yet Dimitri still lies dead by the Emperor’s hand,’ replied Zima, not bothering to hide his gloating. Boyar Sokolov clenched his jaw and stopped sharpening the dagger, looking up from the blade with eyes full of murder. ‘I wouldn’t chance it if I were you,’ said the Exarch calmly. ‘You’d be dead before you’re out of the chair.’ The Boyar put away the blade and took a deep breath. The Exarch turned and made to leave before hesitating by the door. ‘I don’t care about your injured pride, Augustine, or your grief, or the grand storied past of the Sokolov line. Find Steiner Vartiainen and set the trap.’ Exarch Zima threw open the door and was swallowed by the dark corridor beyond. Ruslan closed the door quietly and sighed with relief.

  ‘Pompous ass,’ grunted the Boyar as he stood up from the chair and approached the window.

  ‘There could still be a chance to avenge Dimitri,’ said Ruslan quietly. ‘There could yet be a way to preserve the Sokolov line.’

  ‘Do you really think the same thought hadn’t occurred to me while I have been rattling around this gilded cage?’ The Boyar looked at him but there was no hatred in his eyes, just the heavy look of sadness that had haunted him all week. ‘To double-cross the Emperor with his own scheme. Now that would be something for the history books,’ he said, forcing a smile Ruslan was sure he didn’t feel. ‘Shall we venture out into the city?’

  ‘You want to start searching for Steiner today?’

  ‘You heard the Exarch. He wants results. I don’t doubt I am being watched.’ Sokolov sighed. ‘I must do something. And soon.’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ replied Ruslan on instinct. The Boyar led the way into the street that he had been so fascinated by and shielded his eyes with the flat of his hand. Ruslan wasn’t surprised. His master hadn’t set foot outside the suite in almost a week; no doubt the light was hurting his eyes.

  ‘Do you see that?’ asked the Boyar. Ruslan followed the direction of his gaze.

  ‘Is it the dragon?’ Ruslan tried to make out the form that glided above the distant horizon of the city. ‘I heard a rumour that Bittervinge, father of dragons, has returned from death itself to wreak his vengeance on the Empire.’

  ‘Or perhaps the Emperor never killed Bittervinge in the first place,’ muttered the Boyar. ‘Another lie in a series of lies that has helped hold the Empire together these seven decades.’

  ‘We should return inside, my lord. It’s not safe.’ But the Boyar didn’t move.

  ‘If that’s Bittervinge,’ he said, pointing at a dark winged shadow in the skies to the north, ‘then who or what are those?’ Three other dragons flew up from the south, powering towards the father of dragons on majestic wings, each a different hue to their kin, each appearing to bear a rider on its shoulders.

  ‘We should return inside, my lord,’ said Ruslan, unable to think of anything else to say at such a sight. ‘This is madness.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Kimi

  The appearance of dragons over Khlystburg both confused and terrified people, but more confusing still was the simple truth that three of the smaller dragons carried riders. None knew who these mysterious individuals were at first. Speculation was rife regarding what they wanted and why they fought the father of dragons. Word spread over the coming weeks that none other than a Yamal princess was leading the defence of Khlystburg, which captured people’s imagination then, just as it does now. Few could predict then the fate that awaited Kimi Enkhtuya, or the tale of her exile and subsequent journey across the dead lands of Izhoria.

  – From the memoir of Drakina Tveit, Lead Librarian of Midtenjord Province

  ‘The size of that bastard,’ muttered Kimi as she leaned closer to Namarii’s neck. Ahead of them, on the horizon above Khlystburg, was a dark silhouette that filled her with dread. The wind whipped at her and made a flag of her cloak as Namarii surged through the skies. The buildings rushed past, perhaps fifty feet below her boots, and screams sounded everywhere. The people of Khlystburg ran along the streets, desperate to reach the outskirts of the city.

  ‘This was not how I had envisaged today would go,’ she shouted. Stonvind and Flodvind flew either side of Namarii, almost wingtip to wingtip. Tief and Taiga nodded gravely. The plan had been simple: they were testing the defences at the Imperial Palace, trying to get a feel for how many Vigilants were protecting the Emperor. Soldiers they could deal with, but Vigilants were a different issue. However, what awaited them in the skies above the capital defied belief.

  ‘Is it …’ She could barely believe she was asking the question. Bittervinge was an old terror born from myth, a memory from nightmare, a tale from legend.

  The so-called father of dragons. Namarii snorted a plume of smoke that Kimi had come to recognize as a sign of displeasure or dismissal. Tief scowled at the people below.

  ‘They’re going to get eaten!’ he bellowed above the wind.

  ‘Let’s provide a distraction,’ shouted Kimi.

  We are here to kill the Emperor. Kimi could feel the displeasure radiating out of Namarii, or perhaps it was just the heat.

  ‘These people need our help!’ shouted Taiga, and Kimi couldn’t disagree.

  Bittervinge dived upon the fraught and teeming city streets, snatching a pair of people into his mouth. He had swooped into the sky again before anyone could react. One person slipped from his fanged maw just heartbeats later, only t
o fall to her death. The other disappeared down the dragon’s throat. Flodvind released a roar, though Kimi couldn’t tell if it was in irritation or challenge.

  ‘How are we going to do this?’ yelled Kimi as Namarii drew ever closer to the jet-black dragon glittering in the afternoon sun.

  I have questions. Kimi could feel the tension in Namarii’s shoulders. The motion of the dragon’s flight was different, not the sinuous grace she had known during the last week.

  ‘Well, I don’t have any questions,’ replied Kimi. ‘Can we just kill him?’

  Bittervinge caught sight of the three young dragons and perched on the side of a stone sentry tower, which shook and groaned under the creature’s weight.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ shouted Kimi.

  Who can tell? But I intend to ask.

  The sentry tower overlooked a market square which emptied itself in a panicked stampede. Bittervinge extended his long neck and snatched up a straggler as if they were no more than a sweetmeat. The person had time for one last scream before three savage bites ended their life. Namarii circled while Stonvind and Flodvind settled on rooftops across the market square from the father of dragons. There was a great deal of snorting dark smoke and flexing of claws from the younger dragons, while Bittervinge chewed slowly on the human he’d snared just moments before.

  ‘My conversations with Veles always ended poorly,’ said Kimi, noting how much larger Bittervinge was compared to Stonvind and Flodvind. Namarii swooped in and landed cat-like on a townhouse that overlooked the market square. The tiled roof groaned under the weight but the building stayed firm, much to Kimi’s relief.

  I have questions. I will have answers. Namarii folded his wings with a quick snapping motion. Bittervinge turned his gaze on Stonvind first, who flared his wings in response and raised his chin. Deep gouges appeared on the rooftop as Stonvind growled and made clear his intentions.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ whispered Kimi.

  Bittervinge is trying to dominate us with the force of his personality. Stonvind is letting him know he will not be cowed or make a show of subservience.

  ‘And your mother too!’ shouted Tief, dropping his trousers and baring his arse for good measure.

  ‘Goddess help me,’ muttered Kimi as she pressed one hand to her eyes.

  Bittervinge turned his dark gaze on Flodvind next, seemingly rebuffed by Stonvind. The azure dragon looked to Stonvind, then to Namarii, snubbing the father of dragons with casual indifference. Bittervinge climbed to the very top of the sentry tower and flared his wings, then released a gout of fire into the sky with a terrible sound like thousand scrolls being torn apart. Flodvind responded by tapping one scythe-like talon against the rooftop, a curiously human gesture signalling her boredom. Bittervinge turned to Namarii last and long silent moments crawled by. Kimi was sure some message was being passed between them.

  ‘What’s he saying?’ she whispered as the two dragons locked gazes.

  He is not using words; rather he is trying to intimidate us with his size and his presence. But I have something more powerful than both of things.

  ‘What?’ whispered Kimi, unable to drag her eyes away from Bittervinge.

  My anger.

  Bittervinge flapped his wings, which Kimi took for petulance or irritation.

  Are you such dumb beasts that you make no effort to offer me fealty or even greet me? Are you such callow and timid creatures that these humans ride you like cattle? The father of dragons projected his words into the minds of all present and Kimi gripped on to Namarii a little tighter and gritted her teeth. The words were akin to the chiming of a great bell in their quiet minds. Taiga had clapped her hands over her ears on instinct, though it would do her no good. Stonvind, Flodvind, and Namarii stared down the black dragon on the sentry tower with unflinching gazes.

  Answer me! thundered Bittervinge, casting his words with such force that Tief flinched in his saddle.

  We owe you neither answers nor fealty nor greeting. We owe you nothing. It was Namarii’s words sounding in Kimi’s mind now, measured and even. It is you who will answer to us. You who left us to rot in the dark place beneath Vladibogdan. It was once your nest. I detected a scent on the island, but never the dragon who had made it their home. Now I see you, I smell you. You have been alive this whole time and you never came for us. Now you will tell us why.

  Namarii finished his demand with a low growl that caused Kimi’s legs to vibrate and a surge of alarm run up her spine. Bittervinge responded with a terrible grinding sound, and though he cast no words using the arcane, Kimi knew it to be laughter.

  Dragons are their own masters. A dragon is not to be rescued. I would never dream to swoop so low as to rescue a dragon, any more than I would expect to be rescued myself.

  It was then that Kimi understood why Namarii had such trouble with the concept of loyalty or friendship.

  ‘Not much of a father, is he?’ she whispered to Namarii.

  You and I have much in common in that respect. Kimi blinked in surprise at Namarii’s reply, then wondered just how deeply he had listened to her thoughts while they had flown together. Flodvind and Stonvind cast furtive looks at one another but said nothing.

  You did not know of my incarceration on the island of Arkiv. Bittervinge had toned down the power of his projection, so the words were the soft peals of wind chimes. How could you? Trapped beneath Vladibogdan as you were. I suspect there is much you do not know, that you do not understand. Very well. Bittervinge flared his jet-black wings until they were fully outstretched, casting a dark shadow over the market square below. I will be your teacher. Throw off these weak humans and join me. We will dine on the fat continent and make every last human endure a life of suffering.

  Now it was Namarii’s turn to make that awful grinding laughter, and Bittervinge startled at the mockery of it.

  These weak humans slew Veles, replied Namarii.

  These weak humans fed us in the darkness below the island, replied Flodvind. They showed us kindness in a place of despair.

  These weak humans have borne their own incarceration, added Stonvind, his words sounding like rocks sliding down a mountainside in Kimi’s mind.

  Bittervinge shook his head and folded his wings. And you had it in mind to come here, to Khlystburg, and tear down the Emperor who did this to you?

  ‘I seek vengeance!’ shouted Kimi. ‘For what was done to me and my people. I will face the Emperor and end his eternal rule.’

  Brave words for one so young, but what do you know of vengeance? For seventy-five years I have waited in the Great Library of Arkiv. Every day was a torment to me, and now I am free I will sate myself on the souls of Vinterkveld’s people. I will devour them completely, and then, when I have decimated the population and regained my strength, I will face the Emperor.

  ‘We can’t let him do that,’ whispered Kimi to Namarii. ‘We’d simply be swapping one tyrant for another.’

  A winged tyrant, no less.

  Namarii beat down with his wings and sprang into the air. Stonvind and Flodvind followed his lead a heartbeat later. Bittervinge launched himself from the sentry tower. The building sagged and collapsed in a cloud of stone dust as the father of dragons took to the sky. Tattered and ancient black wings beat the air as the younger dragons flew higher still.

  This may hurt. The sound of rocks on mountainside again. Stonvind closed his wings against his sides and dived at Bittervinge. Tief made a noise that was somewhere between a battle cry and a drawn-out yell of alarm. The father of dragons responded with a gout of bright orange fire and Stonvind banked and turned, catching the blast on his breast. The dark grey dragon raked at Bittervinge with all four claws before speeding away, leaving bright gouges and shredded scales in his wake.

  ‘Attack!’ said Kimi, frustrated by Namarii’s caution.

  In time.

  No sooner had Stonvind departed than Flodvind pounced, landing on the father of dragons in mid-air, her claws seizing the black dragon’s shoulders
as she clamped her maw around the dragon’s head.

  Fools! Witless fools! raged Bittervinge. Flodvind released a blast of fiery breath, scorching the father of dragon’s obsidian scales. Bittervinge struggled to stay aloft, writhing to be free of the azure dragon’s claws. Kimi could almost sense the black dragon’s surprise as Flodvind released him and flew away, but not before Taiga swiped at him with her sickle, opening a cruel wound in his wing.

  Now we strike, Your Highness.

  The father of dragons turned to pursue Flodvind and failed to see Namarii closing in. Kimi held on with all her strength and instinctively closed her eyes. She was almost shaken loose as the two draconic bodies slammed into one another. Bittervinge spiralled downward and Kimi wondered if he might crash into the city like a downed kite. Flodvind and Taiga, Stonvind and Tief all stared, daring to hope the father of dragons had met his end, but his black wings spread wide and Bittervinge pulled out of the dizzying dive. He glided low over the city, speeding over the rooftops, heading north to the plains.

  ‘We should go after him,’ yelled Tief.

  No. Namarii hovered above the city for a moment. We have driven him off, denied him a source of food. He will remain weak for a while longer.

  ‘But he’s wounded!’ replied Tief.

  As is Stonvind. And you were fortunate not to be immolated. Namarii descended once again.

  The sight of three dragons descending from the skies caused another mass panic in the west of the city. One by one the great beasts landed in a wide square and chased off any soldiers foolish enough to stand their ground. Kimi had suggested they land nearer the docks and Namarii had seen the sense in her suggestion.

  ‘We should have gone after him,’ shouted Tief the moment all three of the dragons and their riders had their feet on the ground. He was red-faced with anger and exhilaration and Namarii stared the man down with a stillness that Kimi found disconcerting.