by L. L. McNeil
‘We’ve had a lot of Ittallan sign up, you know.’ Tacio said, wandering across to the lip of the pit. You’ve got four of those ready and waiting. The rest depends what they have left. It’s been busy these last few weeks.’
‘All at once, I suppose?’
‘Of course not. We’re not savages!’ Tacio grinned, his pointed teeth glistening in the darkness.
‘It is your time to show them.’ Vasil said.
A sudden wave of nausea built in his stomach, but Sapora drew his scimitars and approached Tacio. ‘You’ll be bowing to me before the night is over.’
‘We’ll see, Sapora. We’ll see.’
Taking a deep breath, Sapora stepped off the edge of the pit and dropped twenty feet to the bottom. The ground had recently been churned up; it was sticky and damp with congealed blood. The stench threatened to overwhelm his senses, but he remained focussed on the far wall of the pit.
‘The first of six rounds. Prince Sapora fights for his right to the Jade Crown.’
Sapora heard Tacio’s voice from somewhere above him, and moved across the floor of the pit to drier, firmer ground. One final test. He saw creatures waiting for him at the other side. A gila. An eagle. A great monitor lizard.
He heard a deep bellow from the darkness, and locked in on the noise. Definitely an Ittallan. Sapora took another step. Then another. This was all part of what had to happen. Another obstacle to overcome to obtain the greatness he desired.
When the bear lumbered into view, Sapora tightened the grip on his blades. One final test to take his crown and demand the respect he deserved.
*
The morning air was crisp and cool, the mountain below them covered in a fresh blanket of snow. Moroda looked out into the infinite whiteness, her breath forming in the air before her.
Everything seemed so surreal—in Niversai, the most snow she would ever see would be gone before the day’s end. Here, the world seemed so incredibly vast and open. She thought it was vulnerable, and mirrored her own feelings about the fighting to come.
‘Do you think there’s a chance Aciel will back down? Give up now his power has been lessened?’ She asked Morgen, hardly daring to hope.
‘You met him. What do you think?’ He replied, drawing shapes in the snow with his fingers.
‘No, I suppose not. Wishful thinking?’
‘Too right it is. He’s on the brink of bringing Linaria to its knees. Rest of the world probably doesn’t even know his strength has halved.’ Amarah said, sat away a little, her back against a rock.
‘I wish he would stop, too.’ Topeko said. He stood by the mouth of the cave, resting against the bare stone. ‘I fear your idea to restore the dragon’s power has not offered us any boon.’
‘Everyone wants something. Shame is we gave it to that damned snake and she flew off without a second thought!’ Amarah said.
‘I have not met a dragon like this before.’ Topeko said, straightening his robes. ‘I did not expect her to be so dismissive of us, after we spent all night to save her.’
‘Tough old bird. How long has Aciel been around now? She must’ve been waiting to die a long time.’
‘How did she survive without her stone?’ Moroda asked.
‘I don’t know, child.’ The scholar replied with a sigh. ‘Perhaps there is an explanation in one of the books you have. Perhaps she holds a magic deeper and greater than I realised or understood. Perhaps she was simply fortunate and slumbered, waiting.’
‘I don’t think she’ll be back any time soon.’ Morgen said, getting to his feet and dusting snow off his clothes. ‘It’s midday and there’s been no sign of her.’
The dragon had been gone almost four hours, and Moroda was beginning to give up hope of her returning that day. She hated to be negative, but she couldn’t ignore Morgen’s words. That, and as the day drew on, the temperature dropped.
‘No reason for us to stay here on this freezing mountain.’ Amarah said at length. The sky was overcast, fading between dirty white and dark grey, with the thin sun struggling to break through.
‘Hopefully Isa’s done her job and my warship is ready. Come on. We don’t wanna sit out here all day and freeze.’ She stepped onto the snow-covered path back down to where Khanna had been parked haphazardly the evening before.
Moroda heard Amarah, but remained where she was, watching the clouds darken and writhe in the distance.
‘Arillians.’ Kohl said, catching her gaze. ‘Not an attack… just their presence.’
‘Do the others have the… cold powers, like you?’ Moroda asked, curious.
‘No. They can all control the wind and lightning, in various amounts and strengths. But the ice touch is unique.’ Kohl replied, dropping his gaze as Palom shouldered past. ‘We best get on the way.’ He limped after the others.
Moroda had been about to ask after him, but stopped at Morgen’s sudden cry.
‘Moroda! Look!’ Morgen said, pointing into the distant clouds. ‘They’re coming back!’
Following his line of sight, Moroda squinted against the bright whiteness, when she saw a sudden flash of light. Blinking, she tried to find the same spot in the clouds again, when another flash of light caused her to look away.
‘Phoenix?’ She asked, shutting one eye and peeking out of the other, protecting her vision against the gleam of bright, yellow light when it appeared intermittently between clouds. Keeping her eye open until it began to water, Moroda finally distinguished the tiny, bright flame as the distant bird approached the mountain.
‘Yeah. Looks like this dragon’s power really is back, if the phoenixes have found her. At least you did some good, here. Even if she’s not grateful for it!’
Moroda held her breath, mind racing as she thought of how they could potentially track down one of the three remaining Sevastos. Time was against them, even with Aciel’s strength diminished, and she did not know whether a Sevastos would even help their cause, if they were to find one. The Archon earlier had been less than willing. What was to say a Sevastos would be any different? Wouldn’t one be worse?
Lost in thought, she followed Morgen down the trail, retracing the footsteps of Amarah and the others as they wound their way down the mountain to the small plateau where Khanna waited beneath a blanket of snow.
‘I dunno what we’ll find when we get back to Taban Yul.’ Amarah said as they boarded one-by-one. The steps on Khanna’s side were half frozen, and Moroda readjusted her grip to keep from slipping as she clambered on board.
‘I hope that warship is ready. I’ll have a fighting chance when Aciel comes. Khanna isn’t cut out for that kind of battle.’ She shouldered her scythe and swiped at the snow on deck as she spoke, nerves showing despite her fierce words.
‘I’ll fight with you on the warship.’ Palom said, breaking his silence.
‘We’ve come too far to stop now. We need to do something to help.’ Morgen added.
‘Before you return to the capital, please leave me in Feoras Sol. I wish to visit Sereth.’ Topeko said, as Amarah started her engines and unfurled her sails, great clumps of snow falling from them.
The sky pirate grinned. ‘Dunno why you’d wanna go to that damned hole in the ground, but if that’s what you want. Hah. I’ve always been one to do alright when things get rough. Let’s face Aciel and make him pay for everything he’s done—everyone we’ve lost!’ Pushing all three engines to full power, Khanna rose swiftly, shook off the last remnants of snow, and flew back to Taban Yul.
Chapter Twenty-Six
‘What? Why is Sapora not with you?’ Isa snapped immediately after Amarah disembarked. Amarah had flown Khanna to the palace docks in Taban Yul and found the princess waiting for them.
‘I hope you didn’t leave him on the mountain!’
‘No, princess. Though perhaps I should have.’ Amarah retorted. ‘He’s back in Sereth now, I’d guess. He said he didn’t want us to wait for him.’
Isa paused for a moment and Amarah took the opportunity to press forward. ‘My warsh
ip. Is it ready?’
‘Not yet. The final touches are still being made. Aciel himself is on his way to the city. He was spotted by one of our scouting parties just north of the city. Seems he’s burning everything with his wind and lighting, stripping trees and destroying the earth below. The whole city is on full alert.’
‘How much time do we have?’ Palom asked, pushing his way to the front.
Isa shrugged. ‘We don’t know. The Arillians rush forward in spurts then disappear, only to reappear at another village. Could be days, could be weeks. But soon. Definitely soon.
The scouts are trying to keep up with him and report back to what’s left of the Council. Seems like Aciel has a few warships, too. But if Sapora has returned to Sereth for his coronation, I will be able to get everything sorted much faster.’
‘How so?’ Moroda asked.
‘He will make me a queen. And instead of these useless councillors who dither and delay until the enemy is upon us, I will act. If I am to be queen, my city will stand strong and the people will stay safe.’
‘Isa… princess…’ The raven had appeared, wringing his hands and looking paler than usual. His robes were bunched up around his neck, his black sash in disarray.
‘Another attack?’ Isa asked. ‘Where was it this time?’
‘Cora Keb.’
Isa narrowed her eyes. ‘How many dead?’
‘Still unknown. At last count, it was approaching two hundred.
‘Where is that? Is that near here?’ Moroda asked, panic rising.
‘About eighty leagues away. North of here. Along the coast.’ Isa said.
‘It is big trading city,’ Palom said. ‘Second in size to Taban Yul.’
‘Supplies for the capital usually come from there. He’s trying to turn this into a siege. Make it so we can’t leave. Starve us out.’ Isa growled, her pupils shrinking in her obvious rage.
‘Good plan.’ Amarah said.
‘And whose side are you on?’ The princess asked.
‘My own. But right now, I fancy my chances better with you.’
‘Princess Isa, the Council wishes to gather to continue with preparing for the city’s defence.’ The raven said, shuffling closer.
‘Alright. I’m on my way. I presume the guest suites are still available?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Good. If you are on our side, Amarah, get yourself and your friends settled and armed. The battle is coming to us. I’ll send for you when the ship is ready.’
Moroda could hear her heart thumping in her chest as Isa followed the raven out of the hangar. This was it, then. A great battle on the horizon and no dragon to speak of.
‘It is best I show you now Topeko has gone.’ Palom said, stepping forward.
‘Show us…?’ Amarah tilted her head.
‘I had some things left here in palace the night we got to Taban Yul.’ He said, strolling down the corridor. ‘Now we have real need of it. Your gift, Amarah, is one such thing. Come to the rooms now and I will show you. It will help us.’
*
Blood trickled down Sapora’s arm, but it was not his own.
The bear that had stood tall and formidable only a few minutes before now lay gasping on the edge of the pit, its throat slashed open. As it died, it transformed back, but Sapora paid the Ittallan no mind—the Gila was already lumbering towards him. At six feet long, Sapora could see it weighed a fair amount, and what it lacked in speed, it made up for in power. He widened his stance, ready, when from the pit’s other side, the giant monitor lizard trundled forward, too. The lizard was more than twice the size of the Gila, its bulk shaking the pit with each step. Both flicked out their long forked tongues as they approached.
Sapora gripped his scimitars, planning his next move. The thick hide of the lizards would render his weapons ineffective, and if he was caught and pinned by one, he’d be finished off pretty quickly.
The monitor lizard charged at him before he had time to think. Sapora darted back, using his speed to get him out of trouble before the monitor’s attack could connect. He heard jeers above him as the onlookers voiced their excitement and annoyance, but drowned it out.
The Gila lunged, it’s flat, wide head suddenly at his side.
Sapora slashed down with one blade, deterring it more than harming it, and leapt back again. His feet were slow on the soft, damp earth, and he cursed Tacio for making him fight in the smaller pit. Behind him, the monitor hissed, and he whirled round and stabbed at its nose. Another glancing blow. But he overreached, and the great lizard opened its jaws and clamped down on his wrist.
Sapora dropped his blade at once and brought his other hand round, plunging the scimitar in the soft flesh of the monitor’s ear, just behind its head. The great lizard roared and released his wrist, toppling over with a crash. Sapora darted forward to pick up his blade, losing his footing on the sticky round and landing face-first in the dirt.
The Gila was on him in moments, pinning him down with its strength, jaws open as he bit down. Sapora lifted a knee, digging it into the Gila’s belly, while he held its throat away with his good hand. Sapora grimaced as drool spilled from its open mouth, laden with venom, but he was unable to push the creature off him or attack with his wrist bleeding.
The stench of the creature made it hard to focus, but he would not let the Gila—no, Tacio—beat him. He had first claim to the Jade Crown and he would not give his brother the delight in seeing him ripped apart by an Ittallan. Overhead, sniggering rippled through the crowd, fuelling his anger. With a hiss, Sapora transformed.
‘Seems like he is a true Naja, father.’ Tacio said as the enormous cobra wrapped himself around the great lizard. ‘Even has your markings, see? On the front of the hood?’ Tacio was more interested in rearranging the long, silver chains that dangled around his neck than seeing the end of Sapora’s fight. ‘Still taking him a while, though.’
‘Hush, Tacio. This is his chance. Your time will come in due course.’
Tacio rolled his eyes. ‘If he succeeds, I doubt that. He’s just as bad as Isa.’
The crowd grew as more and more Varkain approached the edge of the pit, all calling down insults and praise, both.
Sapora’s coils covered the Gila’s mouth, forcing it shut, as he smothered it with his weight. He squeezed, cutting off the air to the Gila, and suffocated it.
‘He is doing well. I know you cannot bear to admit that.’ Vasil said.
‘We’ll see. Three more rounds to go. Great numbers always break them.’
They looked down as Sapora released the limp Gila, but remained in his cobra form. Across the pit, a gate opened, and from it poured twenty men and women. They were a mixture of ages in various forms of dress; some had armour, some had weapons, some had shields.
‘Thralls always love a go at freedom.’ Tacio grinned, caressing the jewelled rings he wore. ‘Let’s see how he handles them.’
*
On the outskirts of Timin Rah, Topeko hurried along the tunnels. He was escorted by one of the Cerastes on guard in Feoras Sol. She had been most unwilling to permit him into Sereth, but after he produced a black onyx with Sapora’s seal engraved, she relented.
It had been at least eighteen years since he had last visited the Varkain homeland, though under vastly different circumstances. When he was last in Sereth, the Crown Prince lived in Val Sharis with his infant sister, both far too young yet to transform, and King Vasil’s third child, a pure Varkain, had just been born. Topeko had come to pay his respects to the new child, and though everyone had behaved as if all was well, it was clear that strong emotions simmered among both Ittallan and Varkain. When he grew, Sapora would have first claim to the Jade Crown by right of age, but there were many who believed the newly born Tacio had better claim to the throne than the half-breed Sapora.
Vasil had conquered the Ittallan by force only a few years prior, yet retreated to his dark tunnels to allow the Ittallan to rule themselves with their own Council, so long as they paid homa
ge to him. His takeover had been so vicious that by the time anyone realised what was happening, it was all over. An uneasy truce grew between the Imperial allies of Corhaven and Val Sharis, and the Varkain of Sereth.
In his prime, Vasil had been formidable. Topeko had been in awe of the Varkain when he met him, and was thankful he had brought such a large gift to remain in favour with him. Vasil had led an assault on the palace in Taban Yul and taken it in a single night of bloodshed.
While in the palace, and on subsequent visits, Vasil and his Cerastes dined in their balls, drank of their wine and ale, and lay with the men and women of the court. Sapora and Isa were born to two such women, and though Sapora’s true form was a Naja—a cobra—befitting his royal lineage, Isa could only transform into a wildcat, like her mother. The laws of the Varkain forbade her from entering Sereth, leaving her to be raised by the Ittallan who never quite saw her as one of their own. All three of his children had a lot to live up to, with the elder two having the odds very much stacked against them. Sapora, in particular, had something to prove, and it was most apparent now he was on the cusp of becoming a ruler.
‘Looks like you’re right about Sapora’s return.’ The Cerastes said as she led him down the winding tunnels, suddenly darting down another to the left or right. Still tired from his evening’s work with the dragon, Topeko lagged behind, and the Cerastes stopped to wait for him. She flicked out a forked tongue and tasted the air as they reached a large cavern where many tunnels joined. ‘Fresh kills. There are no fights planned. It must be Prince Sapora.’
‘Am I too late?’ Topeko asked, panting.
‘You may not be. Quickly. Come.’ She checked a tunnel and darted off, and Topeko hurried after her as quickly as he could.
*
Corpses littered the pit, the floor swimming in blood.
Sapora had lost one scimitar, but he still had one strong blade to see him through the last two rounds of his final test. There was no food or water between bouts,; no resting or chances to re-arm himself.
This was a brutal fight to survive, a fight to claim his crown. His wrist throbbed from the monitor’s bite, and he bore wounds of the fighting he had endured, but Sapora remained on his feet, determined.
