“I may very well. It is my intention, you know. But don’t forget, he may kill me.”
“Pa, I’ll have to help him.”
“I’ll understand if you do. He’s your mate after all. Your ma would do the same for me. But I hope you don’t. You’ve always been too willful, Chloe. That doesn’t mean you and your child should die.
“And you, Peter,” Charles continues. “Please convince my daughter to stay out of this. It’s time now for us to end this. Show yourself, boy. Don’t make me come searching for you.”
“I’m not your damned boy!” I say. “Search whenever and wherever you wish. My father taught me long ago that only a fool fights at his enemy’s convenience. I’ll show myself when and where I please.”
Charles says nothing.
I tear off another morsel of meat, push it toward my bride and say, {I think your pa was right. I should fight him alone.}
{I’m not going to let you face him without my help. I can’t sit in safety and watch you go to your death,} Chloe says.
{Look at yourself. You’ve lost too much blood. By the time you’re healed, Derek will be too. I should fight your father before he has help.}
{You were talking about getting guns from the arms room. I’m well enough to pull a trigger.}
I shake my head, bite off more meat, force my body to mend as quickly as it can. {Face facts,} I say. {Your father has to be waiting for me somewhere nearby. The arms rooms’ doors are outside, on the veranda. I don’t know if I can reach one without him seeing me. If I do reach one, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get any rail guns loaded and ready before he attacks. And even if the guns are loaded I don’t know if they’ll stay dry enough to fire in this storm.}
{So you think I should stay here and wait while you may go to your death? Don’t you realize what your dying would do to me?}
{Of course.} I sigh. {But now that we know your father doesn’t want to kill you, it would be foolish for you to risk your own death. We have to think of our daughter — and of Henri. At least if you survive, they’ll have a mother.}
Chloe says nothing. We feed in silence, only stopping once we’re gorged. Lassitude overtakes us and we lie for too long, half dozing, side by side.
A loud crash comes from the floor above and I sit upright, wondering what might have been shattered, what could have broken to make noise penetrate the stone walls around us.
“Peter, I’m tired of this!” Another crash breaks the calm quiet around us. “Show yourself soon or I’ll destroy everything in your house.”
“What’s the matter, Pa? Can’t find us?” Chloe mindspeaks.
I wince at the crash that answers her. {Good, why don’t you taunt your father more. Let’s see if he can break everything I own,} I say.
My bride’s eyes twinkle. {Okay,} she says, then mindspeaks, “Please, Pa, don’t do anything to the dining table. Peter and I love it.”
Charles doesn’t answer, but a few minutes later something large slams into the floor above us. I wince at the thought of the massive oak table dropping three stories to the stone floor of the bottom landing.
Chloe stifles a giggle. {Sometimes he’s so predictable,} she says.
{I can see why he may have thought you were difficult,} I say.
My bride nods.
{You know I’m going to have to go soon.}
Chloe lays her tail over mine, strokes me with it. {Not yet.}
I lie back down, nuzzle the back of her neck. {If I could, I’d stay here with you for days,} I say. {But if I go soon, while your father’s still inside, I may be able to get in position to surprise him.}
“PETER, YOUR BOAT WILL BE NEXT!” Charles says.
A laugh erupts from Chloe. “IT’S NOT EVEN OURS!” she mindspeaks, then giggles.
Something else breaks overhead and I can’t resist laughing too. Then we both go silent, ignoring the noises, paying no attention to Charles’s angry outbursts, stroking each other, not as a preliminary to sex, but as an acknowledgment of the pleasure we take from each other’s presence.
Chloe stretches, looks around the chamber and lazily motions to the steel door nearest to us. {Is that the door to the treasure room?} she mindspeaks.
{Yes.}
She points to the other steel door, across the chamber from us. {Then what’s that door lead to?}
Bolting to a sitting position, I stare at the ancient steel door, the aged, rusted locks and the equally rusty chains that protect it. {I’ve never been inside,} I say, remembering my father’s words. {Father said I should only open that door if there’s no other hope. I think this qualifies.}
Standing, I walk to the door, examine the locks and chains and reach up and run my right foreclaw over the stones to the right of the door.
Chloe sits up and stares at me. {What are you doing?}
Stopping at the third stone, I tug on it. It moves and I pull on it, work it out and put it on the floor. {Father told me there’s a chest inside. With some sort of weapon. I’m getting the key.} I reach into the cavity, feel a small wood panel, slide it out of the way and find a thick, rusty key. Taking it out, I show it to Chloe. {See.}
She gets up, hobbles toward me as I attempt to put the key in one of the ancient padlocks. At first, it doesn’t fit. I hit the lock with my claw and rust falls away. I strike it again, knock off more rust and then try the key again. It slides in and, after a little initial resistance, it turns.
Undoing that lock, I use it to bludgeon the others, knocking off rust, loosening their mechanisms. They too click open and I pull the chains off the door, swing it open.
The room is empty except for a small wood chest left on the stone floor, near the back of the room. I go in and carry it out.
{That’s going to have to be a mighty small weapon,} Chloe says.
I lay the chest on the ground, stare at it. {It barely weighs anything,} I say.
Chloe opens the chest, takes out its entire contents — two small wood boxes. One has a painting of a large fire-breathing dragon on it, an X etched beneath it. The other has a painting of a smaller dragon.
My bride opens the first box. It holds twelve glass vials, seven empty, five filled with a green fluid. {Oh, my,} Chloe says. She opens the second box, once again finds twelve vials, four empty this time, eight filled with an amber liquid. {Oh, my,} she says again. {Do you think this could be what I’m thinking?}
She closes the boxes and I study the two dragons on their covers. Chloe puts her finger on the larger, fire-breathing dragon. {I think that’s the image of a Zal warrior. } She moves her finger to the image on the other box. {And that’s an Undrae.}
{Father said this came from an ancient war, before the time of humans,} I say. {You think this is the potion you told me about? The one the Undrae used to fight the Zal?}
Chloe nods.
I open both boxes, take out a full glass vial from both. {No wonder Father said this was dangerous,} I say.
{Remember, if you take it, you only have twelve hours. If you don’t drink the antidote by then} — Chloe points to the amber liquid — {you’ll die.}
33
Chloe’s color still hasn’t returned. Every movement she makes causes her to wince. It will take hours more before she can mend all the damage to her body, before she regains most of her strength. I don’t want to leave her, not yet, not ever.
Another crunch of something breaking above resonates through the house and I look at Chloe. {I need to get ready for him outside,} I say.
My bride nods.
{Do you have any idea how much potion I should drink?} I say. {How long it will take to act?}
{No,} Chloe says. {All I know is that Undrae warriors took it to grow as large as the Zal.}
{How large was that? Twice as big? Three times?}
She shrugs. {No one ever said. Look at the pictures on the boxes.}
I hold them up and compare them. The picture of the Zal warrior is no more than half as large as the Undrae. But was size dictated by the amount of
potion taken? Could too much potion prove fatal?
In the absence of any answers, I can only act from my own guesses. I thin my body, shrink my size so I can haul two sides of beef at the same time through the passageway to the outside door. {To grow that much must require a tremendous amount of energy,} I say to Chloe. {I’m going to put this meat outside, so it will be there for me after I drink the potion.}
{Why don’t you take the potion first?} she says.
I shake my head. {We don’t know how quickly it acts. If its effect is immediate, I’ll grow too large for the passageway. }
Leaving the two vials with Chloe, I carry the meat to the door. The winds outside have intensified and I have to push my shoulder against the oak door, use all my strength to force it open. Wind lashes at me as soon as I go outside. Rain slams against me. I calculate it must be near midnight now, the storm building toward its full strength.
The wind tries to tear the sides of beef from my grasp but I manage to hold on to them. I carry them to the dock, lay them down near the foot of the veranda stairs, where the storm’s fury is partially blocked. Then I return inside for the vials and to say good-bye to my wife.
{Stay here with me,} she says.
I shake my head. {You know better than that.}
{We could go away together. Forget about my father and Derek.}
{I’d no more run than your father would. If I did, I wouldn’t be the man you married.}
{But we haven’t had any time.}
{We’ve had enough to make me sure I love you,} I say.
{And I you. Wait at least until I’m strong enough to help.}
{No,} I say, stroking her face with my foreclaw. {Don’t forget. I have the potion now. If anyone will have an advantage, it will be me.}
{If it works. It must be older than the millennium.}
I laugh. {A fine thought to send your husband as he leaves for battle. It will work and I will be back.}
Chloe presses the side of her face against mine and we stay that way for a few moments before I break away, take the vials and head for the door — and for the storm that waits for me outside it.
34
Wind pummels me, rain blinds me as soon as I emerge from the house’s protection. I shift my body back to its normal full size and feel my way through the bushes, turning to where I left the meat, not twelve paces away. A lightning bolt cuts its way through the sky overhead, illuminating the night for an instant. The flash shows the image of the large dragon nearby, hunched over a side of beef, feeding.
Dark returns almost instantly, but too late to prevent my discovery. “Peter. How good of you. I came out to begin destroying your boat and I found you set out this food for me. How kind of you to make yourself so available too,” Charles says.
“Are you finished destroying everything in my house already?” I say, holding both vials in one hand, trying desperately to remember which one is which. In the dark, in the rain, it’s impossible to tell green from amber. “I’d hoped you’d be busy a little longer so I could eat before we began.”
Charles Blood laughs, tears a huge chunk of meat with his teeth. “Come join me, boy. Feed as you wish.”
“And you, of course, will back away, leave me enough room to be able to dodge your attack.”
“Possibly yes, possibly no.” Charles laughs again. “You’ll have to decide if the food is worth the risk.”
“I thought you believed in being sporting,” I say, transferring one vial into my left foreclaw. Deciding to chance it, I hold it up to my face.
Charles says, “But not on being foolish.”
Another flash of lightning lights the island and I see Charles has changed his position to a crouch, like a cat ready to pounce. Thunder rolls over us and a second flash makes the amber fluid in the vial in my left hand momentarily glow yellow. I gasp, throw it toward the bushes and leap into the air.
“Peter, leaving so soon. Is it something I said?”
The wind catches me, throws me up, drops and tumbles me. I try to gain altitude, fumbling with the cork stopper sealing the vial of green potion, as I beat my wings, straining to fight the wind, but finding myself flying sideways.
“Isn’t this a grand night?” Charles says, passing me in the dark, slashing out, missing any vital part of me, engaging only the tip of my tail, ripping it.
I bellow, as much from the surprise as from the pain. Enough, I think. I put the vial to my mouth and bite down, ignoring the pain of the broken glass as it cuts into my lips and tongue, swallowing every bit of the potion.
It tastes rancid, spoiled, like fish oil left out in the noon-day sun. My stomach revolts and I struggle to keep it down, gulping air, swallowing rainwater to dull the taste.
Nothing happens. My tail still throbs. The storm still batters me. The wind still pushes me where it wishes. Even worse, I know Charles Blood is somewhere in the night, close, waiting for another opportunity to strike.
I work at gaining altitude, search the sky at every burst of lightning. See nothing.
The air around me crackles with static electricity and I prepare for yet another lightning bolt. It shoots through the air so near to me that I can feel its heat. Its brief light reveals the beast hurtling toward me from above.
Folding one wing, I tumble out of his path. I fold my other wing after he passes and plummet after him, falling a thousand feet in seconds, catching him, ripping through his back with my rear claws. Roaring, I finally spread my wings and shoot away from him.
He bellows, soars off in the other direction into the dark.
Once again, I beat skyward.
“Well done, boy. I’m impressed. Nobody has ever been able to stand up to me. Not that you won’t lose eventually, mind you. But it seems we’ll both have fun tonight.”
“You think this is fun?” I say.
“Bloody good fun. I haven’t had such a good row since I fought to win Samantha.”
Another lightning bolt illuminates the world, but I see nothing. Charles hits me from the side, folds his wings over mine and sinks his teeth into the back of my neck as we fall. Howling, I thrash and twist to break his grip. His claws dig into my side and I twist even more, ignoring the pain as talons rip through my flesh, finally grabbing his side with one of my foreclaws, slashing through it.
We hit the water, Charles on top of me, and the momentum of our fall carries us deep below its surface. The older dragon kicks free, swims away.
Pain rages through me. Unable to move at first, I can only drift upward as quickly as my buoyancy takes me. I slowly force my muscles back into action, barely paddling until my lungs begin to burn, taking stronger and stronger strokes after that.
Breaking through at the crest of a wave, I gasp a breath, then another. My heart pounds so much that I fear heart failure. I breathe in again, tread water as one wave after another lifts and drops and tosses me.
I doubt whether I can survive another attack. The pains from my wounds sicken me and leave me weak. My heart hurts. My lungs beg for more air. My muscles ache. My stomach churns and rumbles and begins to burn. How can I hope to face Charles again?
My head throbs with each beat of my heart. As many gasps as I take, my lungs still beg for more air. I’ve never felt this way, no matter how injured. I consider mindspeaking to Chloe, saying my last good-byes.
My entire stomach and chest feel as if I’ve swallowed hot coal. I open my mouth and a small flame shoots out. I gasp, swallow a gulp of salt water to diminish the heat. It doesn’t help. But my pains begin to diminish, replaced by the familiar pangs brought on by growth.
I flex my wings in the water and smile at their new strength. I stretch my shoulders and growl in pleasure at their increasing bulk. The potion! I think. Finally, it’s begun to work. I burst out of the water, take to the sky and roar out a challenge.
“Peter? Is that you?” Charles Blood says. “Are you ready for more already?”
I’m amazed at the strength I feel coursing through me, the size I’ve grown t
o, the fact I’m still growing. My blood pounds in my veins and arteries, my lungs pump great quantities of air. Heat continues to grow within me. “More than ready,” I say.
This time Charles chooses to attack from below. I see him coming, do nothing to avoid him. Just before he hits me, he says, “My God! You’re as large as a Zal!”
Blocking his attack with a rear claw, I tear his face with it. “Yes, I am,” I say.
Charles sinks his teeth into my leg, slashes at my underbelly with his foreclaws. I shake him off, like a Great Dane pushing away the nuisance of a Cocker Spaniel’s attack.
“Give it up, Charles,” I say. “This is no longer a fair contest.”
He drops away from me. “I’ve never given up in my life. I don’t know how you did this, but nothing, bloody nothing is over. DEREK!” he mindspeaks. “I NEED YOU!”
“Yes, Pa! I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“I thought you said it was just us two.”
“And I thought you were an Undrae,” Charles says, flying away from me.
If I wanted, I know I could catch him before his son can join him. But I let him go. Roaring, I beat my wings, fly higher, faster. The storm rages around me. Gusts of wind try to stop me and I roar again. I am too strong to be deterred by a mere hurricane, too powerful to worry about the combined attack of any two ordinary beings, even if they are People of the Blood.
Let Charles and Derek worry about me. I roar again, continue to climb. My heart shudders with each mighty beat. My muscles continue to swell. I climb, piercing angry cloud after angry cloud, flying upward until I finally emerge into clear, dark sky, sprinkled with stars and overseen by a silver splinter of the moon. Breathing cold thin air, I coast over the black blanket of storm clouds below me.
My size amazes me. I must be more than twice my natural size by now and, although my growth seems to have stopped, my heart continues to beat faster, harder. My wounds no longer bother me, but hunger overtakes me and with it, exhaustion. I think of the sides of beef lying by the dock on my island and my saliva almost drowns me. Folding my wings, I sigh and drop into the storm again.
Dragon Moon Page 26
