Valien lowered his head and thought of Rune.
I will not forget you, Rune. I will not leave you to a life of torture and darkness.
He had known Rune since the boy's birth. He had fought at his side, bled with him, killed with him. Rune had become more than just the hope of Requiem.
He is like my son, Valien thought. He is like the son Marilion and I never had.
"And I will save you," he rasped, voice too low for the others to hear.
The island grew smaller and smaller behind them, and Bantis began to sing and dance as he rowed, surefooted even upon the swaying raft.
He oared for a long time.
They traveled south until Horsehead Island dwindled to but a green smudge upon the horizon. The sun dipped into afternoon, casting silver light upon the sea. The water spread across all horizons, deep green and blue. Fish leaped every few moments, and a pod of dolphins swam in the distance.
Kaelyn leaned against Valien. "The sea seems endless," she whispered. "There is no pain here. No people to lead. No wars to fight. I can imagine that the whole world is like this. Blue and quiet and... simple." She looked up at him. "I wish he were with us. I wish he could see this water too."
Valien placed an arm around her. "They will not kill him. He's worth more to them alive."
A tear streamed down her cheek, and she closed her eyes. "That's what I fear. Those are the nightmares that fill me, even here, surrounded by this peace. Because I know, Valien... I know that death would be a kindness to him now. I can't even imagine what—"
Valien growled. He pulled Kaelyn's face up toward his. She opened her eyes and he glared at her.
"Do not think such thoughts," he said. "Do not, Kaelyn. They will haunt you. They will hurt you. We don't know that Rune is tortured. The dragon who captured him—the white one—was his friend. She is protecting him."
Kaelyn nodded and leaned back against him. "Maybe you're right. I pray that you are. I just wish we could be with him. Fighting for him. Saving him and everyone else."
"So long as I breathe," Valien said, "so long as I can stand and fly, I will fight. We hide now, but we will seek allies, and we will regroup, and we will not abandon Rune. We will not abandon Requiem. I swear this to you."
The sun was nearing the horizon, casting a golden path across the water, when they saw Maiden Island.
Valien now understood how the island got its name. It rose from the water like a woman lounging on her side, a forested hill forming her hip. A waterfall cascaded from a smaller hill like hair from a head.
"Welcome, welcome!" Bantis said, hopping around the raft. "Bantis led you to Maiden Island. To hope. To his army. Together we will fight, yes."
As they oared closer, Valien looked for signs of life but saw only seagulls and trees. The waves whispered across virgin sands. No huts, no smoke from cooking fire, no men or women to be seen.
"Bantis," Kaelyn said, "how many survivors did you say live here?"
He pirouetted upon the raft, nearly falling into the water. "Thousands! Thousands of survivors live here, yes. Bantis's friends. Bantis's son leads them, yes. Bantis lived here too. Bantis loves explosives. Bantis lives alone now."
They oared closer. Valien guessed the island stretched two miles long, maybe three. He still could see nobody. The shores were smooth. No trees had been hewn. No huts or tents rose. Valien let out his breath.
Crazy old loon, he thought. He's been alone too long. He invented himself an army of friends.
They let the waves carry them to shore, then walked along the sand. Cliffs rose above them, topped with palm trees. Pelicans and gulls flew overhead. Kaelyn chewed her lip as she walked, staring up at the trees, while Valien grumbled. No footprints marred the sand; Valien wondered if they were the first to ever walk here.
Yet Bantis ran ahead, eager as a dog released from a house, kicking sand and spinning in circles every few feet.
"Come, come! Follow old Bantis. He will lead you to them. Hurry, Vir Requis!"
Valien sighed. He looked at Kaelyn and saw her sigh too.
"Let's humor him," he said in a low rumble; Bantis was running too far ahead to hear. "We'll see what he wants to show us."
Kaelyn hefted her bow across her shoulder. Her cheeks were reddening in the sun, and sand clung to her clothes.
"Might be we'll find only thousands of skeletons."
"Or thousands of ghosts," Valien said.
Bantis scampered ahead, leading them toward a rocky hill. He raced up the slope, turned toward them, and gestured for them to follow. They climbed the Maiden's waist, moving between boulders, mint bushes, and rustling pines. Frogs trilled and herons flew overhead. The waterfall sang in the distance.
When they reached the hilltop and saw the southern sea, Bantis stopped walking and stretched out his arms. "Here! Here is my army. Meet them! Meet them!"
Valien looked around and saw only the trees, the frogs, and the birds. He grumbled and heaved the longest sigh of his life.
"Not skeletons," he muttered to Kaelyn, who stood by his side, chewing her lip and searching the trees. "Not ghosts either. He led us to an army of frogs."
She grinned and leaned against him. "I suppose we could unleash them in the capital. We'll teach them to swarm the emperor and give him warts."
Valien grunted, wiped sweat from his brow, and hefted his pack across his shoulders. "Come on. Let's go back."
He had taken two steps downhill when the forest leaped at him.
A hundred people or more sprang from the trees. They wore clothes of grass, leaves filled their hair, and mud smeared their faces. They bore what looked like miniature cannons mounted upon wooden shafts.
"Capture them!" spoke one, a tall man with blue eyes peering from a painted face. "Take them alive."
Valien growled, shifted into a dragon, and soared.
He shot through the trees. Kaelyn flew beside him, a green dragon, her wings bending the trees below.
A boom tore through the air.
Smoke blasted from one of the men's sticks. Fire blazed out. A projectile whizzed by Valien's head.
"I said alive!" shouted the tall man below.
Valien beat his wings, rising higher, and growled. At his side, Kaelyn sucked in her breath, and flames crackled between her teeth. She rose, then turned and assumed a swooping position, prepared to blast her fire downward.
"Kaelyn, no!" Valien shouted, flew toward her, and knocked her aside. Her flames cascaded down the hillside, missing the men. "They're refugees. They're frightened. They're—"
Metal creaked below upon the hill.
Men covered in leaves and mud raised metallic tubes and pulled levers. Grapples shot skyward, dragging chains behind them. Valien banked, but two grapples swung across him, then tugged down. Chains wrapped around him, and one grapple dug into his leg. He howled and dipped in the sky.
At his side, chains swung around Kaelyn too. She howled and drew more fire into her maw. When she blasted the flames downward, the men scattered and vanished between the trees. The fire crashed down against boulders. From the canopy, more grapples flew.
Chains encased the two dragons. They beat their wings, struggling to rise, but the chains tugged downward, and Valien glimpsed men turning winches.
Valien and Kaelyn, dragons of Requiem, crashed against the hillside. A dozen chains swung from the trees and crashed down atop them. Men cheered.
"Cursed be Requiem!" cried one man.
"For the glory of Tiranor!" cried another.
Men leaped onto their backs, and Valien howled and tried to shake them off, but the chains held him down. Arms reached across his head, fastening a muzzle over his mouth. He growled and blasted fire from his nostrils, but he couldn't free himself—not without killing the men, which he wasn't prepared to do. From the corner of his eye, he saw a dozen men muzzling Kaelyn too as she flailed.
"Death to Requiem!" they cried. "The dragons are ours!"
LERESY
He pulled her along the beach.
"Come on," he said and rolled his eyes. "Will you stop leaning down to collect seashells?"
Crouched in the sand, Erry glared up at him. Leresy held her hand, trying to tug her along. With her other hand, she lifted a large pink shell.
"This is a conch, you fool," she said. "This isn't an ordinary seashell. It's rare and— Ow! Stop pulling me."
He kept walking, squeezing her hand, forcing her to trail behind. She glared and spat and kicked sand.
"It looks like a damn seashell to me," he said. "Do you want to collect shells like a little girl, or do you want to find this big weapon the crazy old man talked about?"
"Collect shells."
He paused, turned toward her, and held out his hand. "Let me see."
She shook her head.
He grabbed the conch, wrenched it from her fingers, and tossed it into the sea.
"You bloody piece of pig shite!" she shouted and tried to kick him, but he held her shoulders at arm's length, and her short legs only kicked the air.
"Call me what you like, soon I'll be pig shite with a weapon to take the throne." He spat. "You'll be thankful I let you trail behind me then. Now come along. This is where the old loon landed with his raft. Shift with me and let's find this damn Genesis Isle he came from."
She raised her hands to the heavens. "Damn it, Leresy, how are you going to find his island? Kaelyn said it's barely bigger than a rock, and there are about a million islands around here. The man was crazy! Cawing like a bird and dancing around. What weapon could he possibly have been seeking?"
"I don't know. We'll find out."
With that, he shifted into a dragon and took flight.
Damn, flying feels good, he thought.
That grizzled fool Valien had insisted nobody shift upon the island. The man was paranoid, sure that imperial dragons were scouting the sea and would see their fire. But Leresy knew his father. The old man had his prize; the boy Relesar was his.
Give the dog a bone to chew, and he'll keep himself busy, he thought.
He rose higher on the wind, inhaling the salty air. The southern sun, warm even in winter, heated his red scales. He sucked fire into his maw and blasted it skyward.
"Erry!" he cried down to her. The urchin still stood upon the beach in human form, scowling up at him, hands on her hips. "Are you coming, or are you going to stay and sulk like a baby?
She spat and shifted too. She soared as a copper dragon, eyes narrowed and fire trickling from her nostrils. They flew east, the direction Bantis's raft had come from. The sea sprawled below them, blue and green under a clear sky, and Horsehead Island—their home since fleeing Requiem—dwindled behind.
Erry shot up to fly beside him, snorted a blast of fire, and glared. "I can't believe you're still obsessed with your damn throne. I thought you gave that up when we moved here. What about all that sweet talk? Living on an island paradise. Forgetting about the war. Making love every day, eating wild grapes, and wearing grass like beautiful savages."
"Well, that was before I heard about this big weapon."
"And now I suppose if you do find some weapon, you'll want to fly back to Requiem." She growled. "Well, I'm not going with you, Leresy Cadigus. Not for any throne or palace or gold."
He hissed. "You'd rather stay alone on this island, a dirty and miserable outcast? You'll turn into another Bantis." He shook his head. "I'm not letting that happen to me. I'm not turning into some crazy-haired, wild-eyed old man. I'll find that old bugger's weapon and slay my father once and for all."
"Leresy!" She slapped him with her tail. "There is no damn weapon. The man is crazy. His weapon is probably just an angry sea sponge he thinks he can slay monsters with."
"A sea sponge with teeth can work," Leresy said. "I'll give it to my father and tell him to wipe his arse with it."
She sighed. "Always poetry with you."
He flashed a toothy grin and flew on.
Their island dwindled behind them, a patch of gray and green shaped like a horse's head. The sea stretched on. The world became nothing but blue—the sky above, the sea below, and two dragons in the middle. As they flew, Leresy found himself antsy. Back at the island, there were many distractions—swords to sharpen, huts to build, boars to catch, trees to fell, and Erry to bed. But here, trapped between blue and blue, nothing stopped his memories from resurfacing.
An image flashed before him, and Leresy winced.
Suddenly he wasn't flying over the sea but was back in Lynport. The barrels of gunpowder rolled. Blasts tore the door open, and outside, he saw them. Men torn apart. Limbs and heads severed. Men screaming, clutching at spilling entrails and stubs. Beras the Brute swinging his axe at Erry, and so much blood, and—
No. Leresy growled and blasted flames down into the water. No more memories. No more pain.
His heart thrashed, and he wondered if Erry was right. Why did he need to return? Why not leave Requiem—all that fire and pain—behind?
Or course, he knew the answer.
I've left Requiem. But she did not leave me. She will not until I can return and slay those ghosts.
He looked over at Erry who flew beside him, grumbling and muttering to herself. He didn't want to leave her. He didn't want to lose her. She was the only good thing he had left, but the ghosts of his pain tainted her too. When he looked at her, he still saw Beras with his axe.
So I will slay those ghosts, he swore, flames crackling inside him. For us.
They flew until they saw a group of islets ahead, a dozen or more rising like a spine ridge, leafy with palms. The two dragons made their way forward, and Leresy lowered his altitude.
"I told you," Erry said, "damn too many islands here. How are you going to find the right one?"
He glided toward the first island. "Well, Bantis said he was digging, so we find the island with the big hole."
The first island he flew over seemed a poor candidate—nothing but palm trees upon a cliff. The second was barren, a mere pile of mossy rocks. He had flown over ten islands, and his wings were aching with weariness, when he saw the distant patch of green.
"There's another one there, farther off," he said. "Erry, come on."
She panted. "Can't we land on one of these? My wings hurt more than a mare in heat locked up with stallions."
"We'll rest once we find what we seek."
His own wings ached, and every breath felt like a saw in his lungs, but he forced himself onward. The sea streamed below. The distant islet lay miles away from the others, an isolated rock no larger a humble house. When he flew above, he twisted his jaw into a grin.
"Here we are. Genesis Isle."
A rocky hill rose upon the island. A hole had been blasted into the hillside, forming a cave. Rocks and dust littered the slope. Leresy glided down and landed upon the shore.
Erry landed beside him, shifted back into a human, and plopped herself down onto the sand. She lay back, closed her eyes, and let the waves wet her toes.
"Bloody stars, I'm tired. I'm going to lie here while you go searching for your toy."
He shifted back too, reached down, and grabbed her hands. "You're searching with me. We'll lie on the sand later. Both of us."
She gave him a sidelong look. "Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you? Bet you're after another treasure here. An island all to ourselves..." She reached down to his breeches, teased him with a caress, then slapped his face. "But since you tossed away my conch, no treasure for you today."
He sighed, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her after him. "Help me dig."
She growled and cussed but followed. They climbed the hillside between boulders and fallen trees. Items lay strewn across the slope, gray with dust. Leresy saw a wheeled cannon, a few shovels, and barrels of gunpowder.
"Hello, what are you then?" he said and leaned down by a fallen tree.
He lifted a shaft of sanded wood the length of a sword.
A metal pipe was mounted upon it. A trigger, like that of a crossbow, fit his finger.
"Is this your secret weapon?" Erry said. She leaned down and lifted another one of the contraptions. "What is it? It looks like a crossbow, just without the bow."
Leresy hefted the device, sniffed at it, smelled gunpowder, and smiled.
"Very nice," he said and caressed the wood. "Very good work that Bantis did."
Erry glowered, holding her own shaft. "Leresy, are you going to tell me what this is?"
He pointed the muzzle at her. "Can't you see? It's a hand cannon."
She glowered and shoved the barrel aside. "Well, don't point that thing at me then, you dolt! Who the Abyss heard of a hand cannon? Cannons are, well... they're bloody huge."
"Not this one." Leresy pointed it skyward and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. "Not loaded. I reckon you place miniature cannonballs into it, then go shooting down dragons."
"Leresy!" Erry stamped her feet and tossed down her own hand cannon. "The muzzles on these things are tiny. I can barely fit my finger in. How will a cannonball this small kill anyone?"
"The same way a crossbow bolt does. With a lot of speed and power." He grinned. "But this weapon here, my darling... I wager it has more power than any crossbow. Why use a string when you can use gunpowder? Let's see if we can find some rounds."
He kept climbing, moving between the rocks and fallen trees, searching for the miniature cannonballs. He wanted to try this weapon. Instead he found another strange object, one whose purpose he could not determine.
"Hello," he said, placed down his hand cannon, and lifted the new contraption. "And who are you?"
It looked like a scroll formed of tough, hardened leather bolted together. A round, wooden lid sealed each end of the tube. When he unscrewed the lids, he revealed glass circles like the bottoms of jars. Leresy had never seen anything like this.
"What is it?" Erry demanded and reached out for it. "Give it here."
He stepped back. "No touching." He brought the contraption close to his eye. "Let's see then. A cylinder of boiled leather, glass at each end. A container? Maybe the ammunition is in here."
A Memory of Fire (The Dragon War, Book 3) Page 3
