His Final Secret

by M. R. Forbes

"Worm," Spyne said again.

  The painted man had been growing stranger and stranger the closer they had come to the mountains. It had started with an odd calm that had seen the man riding with his head up towards the sky, his eyes focused on the sun for longer than he believed any man could bear. He had gone this way for hours, letting his horse navigate the terrain, unresponsive to any of his companions' efforts to engage him.

  Then, when night had come, he had disappeared, vanishing from the camp. Spyne didn't normally care if he left the camp. He often went off to be alone. After his earlier actions, the General was concerned. Worm was the only man who could unnerve him, the only man who he feared. That made him his most valuable asset, and while he had always seemed to be hanging from the edge of sanity, this new activity couldn't have come at a worse time.

  "Worm," Spyne said a third time, circling around to the front of the man. Worm still didn't move, didn't react. His head stayed pressed against the back of his hands. He looked like a priest of Amman.

  Spyne licked his lips, considering what to do. If this were anyone else, he would have simply disposed of them already. He looked back at the camp again. He would kill Worm before he would let his men think him weak. Fortunately, they were out of sight, and none of them would dare to cross him unless it were an absolute emergency.

  He crouched in front of the painted man and began reaching forward to grab his chin and pull it up. He paused, feeling his anger flare at the fact that the action was making his heart race, his body shake. The explosive heat of his embarrassment rose into his face.

  He's a man. Just a man.

  He held his breath and forced his hand to continue forward.

  Worm's head lifted suddenly, his hands darting out to grab Spyne's.

  Spyne's eyes grew wide, and he tried to back away. Worm's grip was a vice, his strength unbelievable for a man of his size. He held Spyne in place, his eyes locking onto the General's before he shifted his grip and pulled him to the ground, rolling him onto his back like he was a baby, shifting his grip again and clamping a hand over Spyne's mouth. Then he used his other hand to put a finger to his lips. "Shhhh."

  Spyne had been preparing to fight back, his anger growing even hotter at the way he had been manhandled. He could feel his heart throbbing, his muscles clenched and jaw tight.

  He caught me off-guard. That is all.

  As angry as he was, he remained silent and didn't move. Worm used the finger to point towards the mountain, guiding his eyes up the slope, and then beyond it.

  Spyne's eyes landed on the dark shape of the dragon silhouetted against the illumination of the sky. Had it just crested the peak, or had it been resting somewhere up on the mountain? Either way, it was in the air now, circling.

  "Looking for something to eat," Spyne whispered.

  Worm nodded in response. Then he pointed at himself, and then the camp.

  "Yes," Spyne said.

  Worm rolled off him and darted towards the camp, staying crouched and silent. Spyne slowly maneuvered himself back to his feet, his eyes remaining on the beast. It wasn't the first of its kind he had seen, though he would have been pleased if it were. The Shifter's dragons had slaughtered so many of them, their armor impermeable to all but ircidium, their resistance to magic making it difficult even for multiple wizards to drag them down.

  He knew he couldn't kill it on his own, and if they were face to face it would devour him. Even so, he didn't fear it. This was a thing of the enemy, a creature dragged into this world from theirs. It was an opponent he understood. A thing that made sense.

  Unlike Worm.

  He stood motionless, watching while the dragon slowly descended along the side of the mountain, spiraling downward without making a sound. What was it doing there? Was it coincidence that its path had collided with theirs or was there something more to its presence?

  Worm found his way back to his side a moment later.

  "The men are aware?" he asked. Worm nodded.

  There was nothing else they could do but watch and wait. If the dragon saw them, if it attacked them, they would fight and most likely die.

  Spyne glanced at Worm. Could the diminutive painted man kill a dragon? He wasn't convinced he couldn't.

  "What were you doing, on your knees like that?"

  Worm shrugged, and then pointed to the sky.

  "Praying?" Spyne said. "You don't pray. And if you do, you don't pray to Amman."

  Worm shrugged again, smiling.

  Spyne regarded him for a moment. He didn't believe the man was praying. Not at all. "If you ever touch me again, I'll kill you."

  A third shrug. Spyne clenched his teeth, every part of him wanting nothing more than to raise his sword and begin killing the surrounding trees to give his body the furious release it was begging for. It took all of his willpower to hold steady in the anger, to condense it and hold it back. His release would surely bring the dragon to him, and he wasn't ready to die just yet.

  He had a promise to keep.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Spyne

  They waited two hours. The dragon continued to circle, floating its way down the slope and drawing near, landing a mile away from them and perching on a large crag. It sat there for some time, head bobbing back and forth, searching for something. Then it lowered itself onto its belly and dropped its head. Sleeping.

  "Come on."

  Spyne and Worm headed back to the camp, careful to remain silent. The Historians were all there, crouched under trees in hiding, their small fire stamped out hours ago.

  "Is it gone?" Ollie asked.

  "No. It's between us and them," Spyne said. The dragon was in their way. He had no choice but to confront it if he wanted to reach the One Zero and the Whore.

  "What is it?" one of the new recruits asked. "I've never seen or heard of anything like it."

  "It doesn't matter what it is," Spyne replied. "Other than it's big enough to swallow you whole, and we need to get around it."

  The soldier's face paled. "General, why don't we wait to see if it will leave?"

  Spyne took three strides to the man, drawing his dagger, grabbing the man's head, and cutting his throat. He breathed out as the body fell, feeling some of his anger and tension ease.

  "That's what I think of cowards," he said to the others, his eyes passing over each of them. Ollie and Worm hadn't reacted. The newest Historians had all fallen back a step, and he could see that they were trying to determine their chances of survival if they attempted to run.

  He felt a hand tapping his shoulder and spun to face Worm.

  "What is it?"

  Worm pointed, not towards the dragon, but to the south. He wiggled his fingers. Someone is coming.

  "Historians, on your feet," Spyne growled, keeping his voice low. Who could be approaching them out here?

  The soldiers were on their feet in a hurry. Ollie was first, bow in hand with an arrow notched before the others had even gotten organized. He vanished behind one of the trees, in position to ambush whoever approached them.

  Spyne brought his sword to hand and started moving south, following Worm away from the camp. He cast his eyes to the mountain every few seconds, checking on the dragon. It was a dark mass against the snow, motionless for now.

  Without warning, Worm dashed to the left, a knife appearing in his hand. He drew back and threw it as he ran. Spyne followed the path, watching as it was batted away with a sharp clang that echoed into the night.

  "General Spyne, leash your pet," a smooth voice said. Spyne followed the ircidium blade to the face of his brother.

  "Worm, stand down," Spyne said, bringing the painted man to a stop. He glanced back to the dragon to see if the noise had disturbed it. It hadn't. "Thornn."

  They approached one another, extending their hands and locking them. Not that they were friends. Spyne had no friends. He respected his brother and the promise they had made. It was enough.

  "You're far from home," Spyne said.

  The two men
couldn't have been more different. Where Spyne was wild and powerful, with a massive build and ragged clothes, Thornn was controlled and sly, his dark ircidium chain armor sitting just so against his lean frame. His boots were polished, his hair cut short, his facial hair reduced to a thin, trimmed mustache.

  "I have my orders. You have yours," Thornn said. Even his voice was a direct contrast to Spyne's gravelly bass. He pointed towards the mountains. "I'm supposed to kill the dragon." He smiled.

  "Where are your soldiers?" Spyne asked.

  "I went over the Killorns with three hundred soldiers and four Mediators." He shook his head. "It killed all of them, ate half of them, and we barely put a scratch on it. They don't know how to fight dragons, brother. Not like the wizards of old."

  "You remember?"

  Thornn was solemn. "He had to give that back for me to fight it. Not that it helped. Oh, the Mediators did their best, but they don't ever need the power their forebears did. They don't know how to summon it or control it. So, I've been reduced to tracking and seeking a way to disable it on my own. An impossible task I believe, but there are no farspeak stones remaining in Elling province. The rebels destroyed them all, thanks to Silas Morningstar. I can't ask for reinforcements."

  "Talon," Spyne said, correcting Thornn.

  "Yes. Our traitorous brother. I suppose you have tracked him here?"

  "No. My orders are to capture the Whore and a One Zero that has traveled with them from Genesia."

  Thornn drew back. "A One Zero?"

  "Yes."

  Thornn's eyes shifted as though he were looking off into the distance. Spyne knew what he was really doing.

  Remembering.

  "What is so important about a juggernaut?" Thornn said at last.

  Spyne growled in frustration. "I don't know. Those are the orders. I don't need to understand to follow. We've tracked them to the old reactor, but now that beast of yours is sitting in the middle. Do you know why the dragon is in my way?"

  Thornn was silent, his eyes down while he considered. He raised his head. "Yes, since you mentioned the reactor, I think I do. The meat of this world, the flesh and blood and bone, it can barely sustain a creature like that. The food it needs can only come from one source."

  "The reactor. Yes, I already know that. And the Whore is a Cursed. She could start it up again if she wanted to. At least, she could if there weren't a sealed ircidium door in her way. That's not what I'm asking you, Thornn. I want to know why that dragon is sitting there, as if it knows she's inside, and it's just waiting for her to start it up?" Spyne's voice raised as he spoke, from a soft growl to a harsh whisper.

  "And you think I should know that?" Thornn asked.

  "You've been tracking it."

  "That doesn't make me its sire. Clearly, it can sense food in there for it. I suspect it won't leave the area until it is near to death."

  "That could be some time."

  "Yes."

  "I need to get into that reactor. Now."

  "Perhaps if you ask it nicely. You've always been so charismatic."

  Spyne stepped forward, reaching out for Thornn's neck. The other General backed away.

  "Careful, Spyne."

  "I won't be mocked."

  "I was joking with you. I know how you can get inside, but you may not be able to get out again."

  "I'll deal with that after I deal with the One Zero. What's your plan?"

  "How many men do you have?"

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Spyne

  It seemed illogical to Spyne that they should make the attempt to get around the dragon in broad daylight, but according to Thornn's observance of the creature it would be slower to wake and more lethargic while the sun was up.

  That didn't make its mere presence any less intimidating. While Spyne wasn't afraid of the beast, he was wary of it. If he died and the One Zero escaped, there was a very real possibility that the promise would die with him.

  He couldn't allow that to happen, and so it was that he found himself crouched behind a large rock not fifty feet away from the dragon with Ollie, Worm, and two of his least cowardly recruits.

  "Is everyone in position?" he asked Ollie.

  The Historian grunted affirmation. "The signal should come any moment."

  Spyne cast his gaze to the other side of the dragon, to where Thornn and the remainder of his soldiers were waiting.

  "A diversion," Thornn had said, promising him that if he allowed him most of his soldiers he could lure the dragon away and give them time to escape up into the mountain. All it had taken was a second promise to assist his brother in killing it once the juggernaut and the Whore were under control. It was a promise he didn't hesitate to make. It was part of the reason he was still alive.

  How he plans to survive the dragon's wrath is a mystery to me.

  He kept his eyes glued to Thornn, who was speaking to the soldiers. They spread apart while he watched, moving down the slope in even distances, with Thornn closest to the creature. Once they had all paused in their individual retreat, the General reached into his pocket and retrieved something from it. He looked up at the sky, and then shifted whatever he was holding. A bright beam of light struck the ground in front of them.

  "I suppose that's the signal," Ollie said.

  "Get ready to run," Spyne whispered.

  Thornn shifted his hand, and the light moved from the ground to the dragon. He held it steady so that the light was aimed directly into its eye.

  "Crazy son of Heden, isn't he?" Ollie said. "What's he doing, anyway?"

  They watched while he held the glass steady. A few minutes passed.

  "I don't think this is-"

  Ollie stopped talking when the dragon's eye opened, a massive slit that filled with gold and black.

  Thorrn's head turned, glancing his way. The dragon's head lifted and turned towards the General, it's mouth opening and revealing its powerful jaws and teeth.

  "Run," Thornn shouted, turning and dashing down the mountain.

  The dragon let out a roar, bringing itself to its feet, reaching forward on its neck and opening its mouth. A gout of flame pierced the air, reaching for Thornn's back. Missing.

  "Move, now," Spyne said, turning and running along the side of the creature.

  It didn't notice them, bringing heavy limbs forward and giving chase to the fleeing soldiers. It was on the first in line within seconds, jaws grabbing the man and pulling him in. His screams were short-lived.

  Then Spyne was running, moving opposite Thornn and the soldiers, heading up the mountain towards the reactor. He passed within feet of the dragon's tail as it lumbered forward, spreading its wings and preparing to take to the skies. Another quick scream suggested it had caught a second soldier.

  How is Thornn evading it?

  He could no longer see the General, but he was certain the man was escaping. Thornn was too cautious to set a plan in motion that would get him killed. Especially to help him.

  He charged up the slope, picking his way past brush and boulders, ascending as quickly as his legs would allow. Worm kept pace easily behind him, a smile on his face as he climbed, his breath remaining calm even as Spyne's grew ragged, and Ollie and the soldiers struggled to keep up.

  The ground shook around them as the dragon raced down the mountain, and then stopped altogether when it took to the skies. Spyne dared to pause then, turning back to see it diving down and scooping up another soldier in a massive claw, which it brought up towards its mouth.

  Where was Thornn?

  He found him further down the mountain, already well ahead of the final soldier in line. He was running towards the trees, near where he had confronted Spyne in the night.

  The dragon screeched and snapped at the soldiers, scooping them up and into its mouth, eating them in one bite.

  "General," Ollie said between heavy breaths, trying to get him to continue the climb.

  "Go. I'll catch up," he replied.

  Ollie continued while Spyne
watched Thornn. He saw the man reach the trees.

  Then he vanished.

  Spyne blinked his eyes. Had he just seen what he thought he saw? Thornn had vanished, as though he had entered a time distortion without having one created by a Shifter or a wizard. He shook his head. That couldn't be possible. Could it? He should have been able to slay the dragon on his own if he had such power.

  A dull thump echoed across the sky as the dragon pounced onto the earth. Its head weaved while it searched for Thornn, unable to find him.

  A hand gripped Spyne's shoulder so tight that it hurt. He was drawn from his search, his eyes finding Worm. He had told Worm if he ever touched him again he would kill him. It was obvious the painted man knew it was a threat he couldn't make good on.

  Spyne looked back once more to where the dragon paced the ground, confused at the loss of its morsel. It had eaten the rest of the soldiers, leaving him down to four men.

  One of them was Worm.

  It would be enough.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Eryn

  They stood in a line in front of the ircidium door. Six one zeroes, plus Oz, who looked out of place with its dented, rusted armor and missing limb next to its nearly pristine counterparts.

  "It is prepared," Oz said.

  Eryn could feel the juggernauts in her Curse, and she signaled to them to remove the door from their path. They moved forward as one, reached out with their arms and pressing them against the door. Then they set their huge feet and pushed.

  The door didn't open right away, not even with the massive effort and power from the juggernauts. Steam poured from their mouths and their mechanical innards whined and groaned under the stress though they didn't complain and didn't quit. They continued pushing, even as a sharp pop caused one of the creatures' arms to hang limply from its side, and another started to smell as though it were on fire.

  "Keep pushing," Eryn said out loud, watching the scene. "We need to get in."

  One of the juggernauts responded by failing completely, smoke billowing from its head. Oz grabbed it and threw it out of the way, replacing it in the line and adding its muscle to the rest. The door began to creak, and she saw that it was starting to swing open.