Witchbreaker (Dragon Apocalypse)

by James Maxey

  “Sort of. It’s more like body surfing, only the waves are invisible. Once the wind gets this bad, you ride where it takes you.”

  “When your mother wakes up, will she calm things down?”

  “Maybe a little. But we’re close to the city of Kaikou, at the mouth of the Ookawa river. That’s where the cloud giants’ hurricane ships anchor when they need to take on supplies. They slow their winds when they’re over the city, but even at their lowest speed it’s like being caught in a tropical storm.”

  “Hurricane ships?” Sorrow said. “Do you think Levi will be there?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I didn’t really get to talk to him much, but he seemed nice enough. How did he wind up getting involved with the Storm Guard?”

  “It’s really more a matter of getting involved with a cloud giantess. Tempest forces all the cloud giants to serve in his military, even though they’re by nature gentle creatures. But when you live on clouds, and the dragon who has absolute control over clouds asks you to do something, you do it.”

  Cold rain began to spatter against Sorrow’s wings. Worse, Sorrow had gotten used to Gale keeping the ship reasonable steady. Up here in the rigging, the pitching and swaying of the ship left her stomach lurching.

  “It might be time to go below deck,” she said.

  “Aw, it’s just a little water,” said Jetsam. “I need to stay on watch until Sage wakes up, but you go on down.”

  Sorrow climbed carefully to the deck. The rigging grew increasingly slick as the rain set in with a vengeance. She wasn’t completely vulnerable to the elements. Bigsby had modified the cloak he’d made for her. It didn’t fit over her wings, but it served as a hooded shawl that protected her shoulders and head. Still, even with her head covered, her body was quickly drenched. She saw Rigger at the wheel, standing beneath a canopy made of a loose sail stretched between taut ropes that shielded him from the rain.

  He shrugged as he watched her shivering and said, “There’s room for two.”

  She tried to shield herself with her wings as she traversed the rolling deck, but the wetter they got the colder she felt. Her teeth were chattering by the time she made it under the canopy.

  “Who says you don’t have sense enough to come in from the rain?” Rigger said.

  She studied his face, unable to tell if she was being insulted. Though Rigger was only two years older than Jetsam, his thin face was marked by worry lines. He held out a steel flask. “Take a swig of this to warm yourself.”

  “I don’t drink alcohol.”

  “It’s only tea. I can’t keep it in a cup or it would slosh out.”

  She took the flask, grateful for the warmth as she wrapped her fingers around it. She took a sip and nearly spit it out. It was unbearably bitter. “What is that?” she managed to ask despite the numbness spreading across her tongue.

  “Just tea. A few cloves as well.”

  “It doesn’t taste like tea.”

  “You’ve probably had the dainty version where you steep the leaves then drink the runoff. I crush the dried leaves into a fine powder before mixing it with the water. It gives it a little kick.”

  “Kick is right. My mouth feels numb.”

  “That’s the cloves. They deaden my ability to taste anything.”

  “If you don’t like the taste, then why—”

  “Because it keeps me alert. When I’m hooked into the ropes, it’s like my fingers are hundreds of yards long. I’m touching every part of the ship. I feel so much that it’s easy to get distracted. The tea helps me focus.”

  Sorrow nodded. She had to admit, a single mouthful had certainly made her feel more awake. Sorrow gave the flask back to Rigger, who took a long swig before slipping it back into his pocket. His face showed signs of strain as he pulled the ropes wrapped around his arms.

  “Is it tough sailing in weather like this?”

  “Are you just making small talk?” he asked. “You can’t possibly think that there’s anything easy about sailing a ship this size by myself. It’s difficult even in good weather.”

  “Maybe I am just making small talk. We’ve been at sea together for months since I first met you aboard the Freewind, but I don’t think we’ve even talked for ten minutes.”

  “That’s because I’m always working or sleeping. Did you know when I was born, the Freewind had a crew of forty-three people? My aunt Rosemary’s family lived on board then. She has eleven children, and four of them were married by the time I came along.”

  “And the war drove them away?”

  Rigger shook his head. “Ma tells people it was the war, but, really, it was me. Once she discovered I was all the crew she needed, she quit having to compromise and cooperate with other Wanderers in order to keep her ship in business. I kept taking on more and more responsibility, wrapping myself in more and more ropes, not completely understanding how tied up I was becoming. Everyone else on this ship gets to dream about one day leaving and starting a life their own. I’m bound to this ship until Ma quits, and that’s not going to happen.”

  “You might be surprised.”

  “Nothing surprises me any more,” said Rigger.

  “Haven’t I heard you proven wrong after saying that?”

  “On the small scale. On the large scale, my life is depressingly predictable.”

  “If you feel that way, why don’t you quit? I understand how another ship might not be eager to take on Mako, but any captain would have to instantly recognize your worth.”

  “I wouldn’t go to any ship that wouldn’t hire Mako,” said Rigger. “And, while I gripe about mother’s unwillingness to compromise, I couldn’t work aboard a ship that transported slaves. Also, while another Captain might welcome me, would another crew? I suspect my presence aboard a ship might cause some resentment. My magical gift might be useful, but I don’t pretend that I’m not a freak. Everyone aboard this ship is. So, my perfect job would be upon a ship that was anti-slave, welcoming to freaks, and where no one resented my talents.” He managed a grim smile. “I know of only one ship that meets these criteria, and I already have a bunk there.”

  SORROW RETURNED TO the hold and sat in the dark and relative quiet, to be alone with her thoughts. Of course, her hope was for the exact opposite, which was to find company in her thoughts, via the link Avaris had told her would be established once they traded eyes. Since embarking for the Isle of Storm, she’d tried meditating several times daily, in hopes of quieting her own thoughts enough that Avaris could be heard. It hadn’t worked yet.

  It wasn’t working now.

  Hours passed before Gale and Mako could be heard in the hall, returning to the deck. Sorrow gave up on her futile attempt at finding Avaris within her own skull and decided to join them above.

  “Can I go get some sleep now?” Rigger asked as his mother approached. “I should get a little rest before we hit the eye. We’ll be needing to adjust the sails then.”

  “I’m afraid there’s no time for that,” Sage said, calling down from the crow’s nest. “You don’t need magic to see that we’re coming toward the eye of the storm now.”

  Sorrow looked forward and could see the sky brightening in the distance. Gale guided the buffeting winds to the tail of the ship and pushed it toward the light. A few minutes later, the wind calmed and the rain gave way to sunlight. The eye of the hurricane was an almost perfect circle of calm several miles across. Ahead were two stone mountains, rising at steep angles toward the heavens. In between the two mountains was a valley cut through by a broad river. The banks of this river were thick with thousands of almost perfectly square buildings with roofs of woven bamboo. Roads rose up from the city, winding along the steep mountain cliffs, disappearing among the clouds. To Sorrow’s surprise, rope bridges ran from the mountains out into seemingly thin air. Men moved along the bridges, guiding large goats harnessed to carts piled high with barrels and baskets. They vanished into a dense bank of roiling clouds that seemed to hang in a stationary position above
the city.

  “By the winds!” Rigger said, his eyes growing wide. “That’s Levi’s ship! The Thunder!”

  “Wonderful,” Gale muttered.

  Sorrow stared at the heavens. “How can you tell? They look no different from any other clouds.”

  Sage traced her fingers in the air. “See those wispy white clouds? Kind of like little squiggles? They’re the ship’s markings.”

  Sorrow tried to follow Sage’s gaze, but it was hopeless. All she could see were clouds.

  By now, word had somehow spread below deck that Levi’s ship had been sighted and all the Romer children came up top. Brand and Bigsby followed close behind.

  Slate was the last to come on deck, shielding his eyes as he studied the city. They were close enough now that Sorrow could make out individual people. The city resembled an anthill in its frantic activity. Every street and alley was thick with men and women carrying loads back and forth.

  “Why do they all look alike?” Slate asked.

  “By law, all the citizens dress identically,” said Rigger. “Male or female, they all wear gray pants, gray shirts, sandals and straw hats. Both sexes wear their hair in the same ugly bowl cut.”

  “It’s worse than just clothing,” said Gale. “Everyone here looks alike, at least within age groups. They practice infanticide against any child born with a visible flaw, even harmless birthmarks.”

  “Thank the divine author that I come from a more civilized society, where flawed babies are sold to carnivals instead of being killed,” said Bigsby.

  “Why would people live like this?” Slate asked.

  “While the destruction of newborns is inexcusable, other aspects of the life here strike me as superior to life elsewhere,” said Sorrow. “All the citizens are provided with matching clothes, identical houses, and equal shares of food. It’s a society without wealth or poverty. It’s far more fair than the feudal system of the Silver Isles, where a handful of families control the majority of the wealth.”

  “They may be equal, but they have no individuality or freedom,” said Jetsam, hanging upside down in the rigging. “They’re kind of anti-Wanderers.”

  “And Tempest is their king? They’re ruled by a dragon?” Slate asked, sounding distressed.

  “Tempest is their god,” said Rigger. “From birth, they’re ingrained with his philosophy. The lone raindrop is powerless, but a storm can wash away mountains. The people believe their lives only have meaning as tiny parts of a larger whole.”

  “But, to have no hope of advancement or growth...” Slate said, letting his thoughts trail off.

  Rigger said, “They aren’t completely without hope. Men can increase their status by joining the Storm Guard and rising in military rank. Women can serve in the shrines built to Tempest, and some go on to great honor as stormcallers.”

  “Speaking of which,” said Sage, who was listening above, “we’re about to have company.”

  Two ships were approaching, both packed with armed men. Unlike the gray, loose-fitting clothing worn by the townsmen, these men were dressed in tight black coats lined with brass buttons. Golden lightning bolts decorated their shoulders. They wore leather bucklers on their forearms and swords that hung from their waists to their ankles.

  “Are we in for a fight?” Sorrow asked.

  “I’m sure this is just a routine inspection like we faced in Port Hallelujah,” said Brand. “Despite the uniformity imposed on the citizens, Kaikou is actually a fairly cosmopolitan port. Most of the world’s iron is shipped out of here, so they’re welcoming toward people visiting for business. Even among dragon worshipers, money trumps philosophy.”

  Gale nodded in agreement. “Also, the city makes a lot of money from the steady stream of pilgrims visiting the Temple of the Book. We’ll tell them that’s why we’re here. They’ll name a docking fee, we’ll pay it, and that should be the end of their interest in us.”

  “I should get below deck,” said Sorrow.

  “That would have been an excellent idea about thirty seconds ago,” said Sage. “Judging from the way the stormcaller on the lead ship is holding her spyglass, she’s just spotted you. We’ll have to tell them that you’re a half-seed.”

  “Not that they’re fond of half-seeds,” said Mako.

  “Things will work out,” said Gale. “Everyone keep their mouths shut and let me do the talking and we’ll be done with this in moments.”

  Slate crossed his arms and glared as Gale ordered Rigger to trim the sails, allowing the ships to pull alongside. Gale had Poppy and Cinnamon lower rope ladders to give the boarding parties easier access. She donned her captain’s hat and buttoned her coat, standing beside Rigger with her arms clasped behind her.

  Eight soldiers climbed aboard, four from each ship. They stood at attention beside the ladders as a woman climbed up from the ship on the starboard side and a man who was obviously an officer boarded from the port. The officer’s uniform was identical to those of his men, save for three golden lightning bolts on each shoulder and a sword with a decorative scabbard, inlaid with blue stones forming a stylized dragon. The stormcaller wore black robes, and if Gale hadn’t informed her that stormcallers were women, she wouldn’t have known. The black robes hid the shape of her body, and her face was concealed behind an azure dragon’s mask. She carried a three-foot rod carved from clear quartz crystal that glowed with an aura separate from that of the woman.

  “Captain,” the uniformed man said, bowing toward Gale. “Welcome to Raitingu. I’m Inspector Rim. My companion is Stormcaller Lotus. Please order all your crew and passengers to the deck.”

  “We’re all accounted for,” said Gale. “No one is below.”

  “Truly?” Rim asked, his eyebrows raised. “Such a small crew for a ship this size?”

  “Our crew was once larger,” Gale said. “We’re doing what we can until I recruit more.”

  “What’s the purpose of your visit?” Rim asked.

  “This man is on a pilgrimage,” said Gale, nodding toward Slate. “He carries the mortal remains of his father to the Temple of the Book.”

  Rim looked at Slate. “You would sail all this way to dispose of a corpse? He must have been a very important man.”

  “Important to me,” said Slate.

  Rim walked closer to Slate. Slate was once again dressed in his glass armor, which Sorrow had repaired after they returned to the ship.

  “This is unusual armor,” he said. “Are you a soldier?”

  “A knight,” said Slate.

  Rim ran his fingers along the glass scales. “Is it dragon hide?” he asked.

  “Just glass,” said Slate.

  Rim looked skeptical. He turned back toward Gale. “Unfortunately, it’s illegal to transport a corpse to our land. We must confiscate the body.”

  “Illegal?” said Gale. “Since when?”

  “Kaikou is a city of half a million people,” said Rim. “Corpses can spread illness.”

  “Getting your drinking water from the same river you dump your sewage into might also cause a few sniffles,” said Rigger.

  Gale shot a glance at him.

  Rigger shrugged. “Sorry, that just came out.”

  Gale sighed. “We’re but humble Wanderers, Inspector, ignorant of your laws. If there are permits required to transport a coffin to the Temple, we understand. Would a fee of fifty moons acquire the necessary permissions?”

  Rim chuckled. “Fifty moons? This man’s dragon-hide armor is worth a hundred times that. A thousand.”

  “What if we give you the armor?” Gale asked, aware of its relatively humble origins.

  Lotus interrupted, shaking her head. “Inspector, the knight speaks the truth. The armor is not dragon hide.”

  “You’re certain?” he asked, sounding disappointed.

  “The claw of Tempest caressed my cheek at our wedding,” said Lotus. “I’m intimately familiar with dragon skin. This man does not possess it.” Her masked face turned toward Sorrow. “This woman, however, do
es. Look at her wings.”

  Rim looked at Sorrow. “What manner of beast are you?”

  “Just a half-seed,” she said.

  “There are no dragon half-seeds,” Rim said. “The fetus would be fatal to any mother.”

  “What if my father was human and my mother was a dragon?” Sorrow asked, knowing Rim would probably find the answer insulting. She respected Gale’s desire to talk and bribe their way past these guards, but her gut level hatred of men trying to exercise authority over her was nearly impossible to suppress.

  He nodded toward his men. Two of them flanked him as they approached Sorrow. On an unseen signal, all three men drew their swords.

  “I apologize for the woman,” Gale said. “Her half-animal nature has left her dimwitted. Please ignore her babbling.”

  “Remove your hood,” Rim said, as he fixed his eyes on Sorrow’s face.

  Sorrow smiled as she obeyed. The look on Rim’s face as he spotted the nails on her scalp was quite satisfying.

  “Witch!” Rim shouted. In unison, he and his men drove their swords into her belly. Luckily, her command over iron made her skin even better than dragon hide against their blades. The swords folded limply against her stomach.

  “Down!” Lotus cried as the three men stood gawking at their ruined weapons. At her command, they threw themselves to the deck. Lotus pointed her crystal rod at Sorrow and shouted, “Khong!”

  Sorrow spread her wings as brightness flared within the crystal, but suspected she wasn’t going to get out of the way in time.

  Slate threw himself in front of her as a loud CRACK filled the air. An arc of brilliant white light sliced into Slate’s armored chest, vanishing as quickly as it struck. In the aftermath, Slate looked none the worse for wear. The stormcaller raised the glass rod toward the sky and began screaming out a prayer. Poppy dropped down from the riggings, balanced on the woman’s shoulders for a heartbeat, then vaulted to the deck as the woman shot toward the clouds, her prayer changing to a shriek. Her azure mask and the crystal rod clattered as they fell to the deck.

  Sorrow blinked and suddenly there were dozens of Storm Guard spilling over the rails. Rigger grimaced as a score of ropes snaked toward them. The soldiers proved remarkably coolheaded in the face of such a strange assault and deftly leapt over the dancing hemp, slicing ropes with their swords as they charged toward Slate and Sorrow.