“You will fall, beast! If you are too much of a coward to hold still, then I shall turn the very skies against you!”
A sequence of placeless, unnatural words began to flow from her mouth. They were no longer unsteady or clumsily phrased. Instead, they seemed to craft themselves, as though she were merely the vessel that gave them form. The incantation went to work, thickening and darkening the gray clouds above into an angry black sky. Wind whistled and howled, catching the dragon's wings awkwardly and forcing him to struggle to keep his course. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed. A rain, heavy and constant, began to hammer down from a sky that had delivered naught but snow for years.
The frigid water soaked the sorceress to the bone, but she took no notice, eyes locked on the dragon struggling fruitlessly against the hostile wind. Damona guided the gale, hauling the dragon backward. Halfax trimmed his wings and pointed his nose into it, attempting to dive through the storm and back to the ground, but the force was too much, keeping him aloft despite his best efforts. The carefully crafted air current split to avoid the dragoyle, providing the mystic with a stationary target. A fresh bolt of black magic began to form.
The dragon looked back. He was making no progress, he couldn't escape, and in moments she would release an attack easily twice the size of those that had made short work of trees moments earlier. Already he could feel the crackling power of it reaching toward him, like a ravenous attack dog straining at its leash. He couldn't wait any longer. He had to act now.
He flicked his wings backward, shifting them from a streamlined posture to great billowing sails. They caught the wind that had held him back, dragging him with it and launching him at the sorceress. A deft pivot brought his teeth and claws to bear an instant before he collided with his enemy with enough force to stagger even the massive dragoyle. His attack dug deep into the stony hide of the dragoyle and shattered the concentration that held both the wind and the bolt of magic in under Damona's control. The wave of blackness splashed against dragon and dragoyle alike, sizzling each. Halfax shrugged off the furious burning and clamped his jaws on the monster's wing.
Now caught in her own storm and entwined with a raging dragon, Damona's monstrous mount began to plummet earthward.
Fear finally cutting through her damaged confidence, the sorceress turned her maddened eyes to the rapidly approaching ground. In stirring up the skies and hurling her attacks, she had guided the dragoyle high into the sky. If she didn't stop her fall before the ground did, there was no way that she would survive. But panic was the enemy of precision, and as she fumbled through her mind for something that might be of some use, she instead settled on the one spell she could recall that she might be able to cast quickly enough to fell the dragon. She wrenched her staff free from the tangle, pointed it to the sky, and spoke the words of the spell.
Some distance away, Jade watched in terror as the spectacle high above the forest unfolded. In the darkness of the storm, she could not tell where Halfax ended and the dragoyle began, but they were both falling. She spoke a silent prayer and strained to see. Something was happening. The air around her felt tingly, and her hair was standing on end. Suddenly, the world went white. A brilliant flash of lightning split the sky, shaking the earth with the force of its thunder. The searing light burned a silhouette of the scene into her eyes. A streak of intensity traced a jagged path from clouds to forest, and passed through the distant, agonized form of her friend and protector. Tears in her eyes and anger in her heart, Jade rushed to the stairs.
A smoldering figure crashed to the earth below, tearing branches from trees. A moment later, the lurching form of the dragoyle followed suit, its rider shrieking a terrified and tortured attempt at a half a dozen different spells. She had not known that lightning was not a precise weapon, and Halfax had still been wrapped about the black beast when the bolt had struck. Charred, broken wings did little to slow the dragoyle’s fall, and it struck a stand of trees with force enough to level them and turn the monster to rubble.
For a time, all was still. No longer fueled by dark will, the storm subsided, rain pattering to a stop. Smoke rose slowly from the mound of broken wood that had once been a dense patch of forest. Then came a voice, quiet and hoarse, filtering through the debris. A hand, skin white as milk and nails black as night, thrust from the pile. The fingers were clinging to the impossibly intact staff. Tendrils of energy writhed across its surface, worming along the arm and into the rubble. Fragments began to drift into the air. First one by one, then by the dozen.
A pit was excavated, and from within rose Damona--or what was left of her. Burns covered her body. Bones were shattered, limbs twisted at grotesque angles. She croaked a few more words, each accompanied by coughs and sprays of blackened blood, and the magic went to work. Bones clicked and shifted back into place. Gashes closed, burns cleared, and her voice grew stronger. In seconds, she appeared whole once more . . . but much the worse for wear. Her features were sunken and drawn, skin almost translucent, showing black veins beneath. Her vision was an indistinct mass of blue and purple blotches, and her hearing was little more than a dull whistle, lingering effects from the bolt of lightning that she had no spell to heal. She wiped blood from the corner of her mouth, turning her gaze to the broken trees and the broken dragon that lay among them.
She raised her left hand high above her head, grip tight about the staff. Arcane words began to slip from her lips, conjuring forth a swirling darkness above her raised fingers. The gleam in her eye was maniacal. Each syllable caused the churning, crackling ball of black energy to swell. The dragon was already a motionless wreck, but she would leave nothing to chance. She would leave nothing at all.
When she was satisfied with its intensity, Damona made ready to release the vicious mass of magic. Suddenly, a hissing sound cut the air, an arrow slicing across the wizard's arm. The pain was sudden and sharp enough to pull her mind from its task. Without concentration to maintain it, the spell scattered and dissipated, trailing long ebony streamers that withered and blackened all that they touched.
The injured spellcaster turned, fury in her eyes, to see Jade run desperately for the shelter of a nearby tree. Damona waved the staff over the wound. In seconds, it boiled away until only a thin black line remained. The grin on her face widened.
“I'm glad you left the tower, child. I was afraid I might damage it while looking for you. Now come here. This will be easier for you if you cooperate.”
Jade stepped from behind the tree and released another arrow. Damona spat a syllable and thrust the staff aside. A wave of force swept through the forest, deflecting the arrow, knocking Jade to the ground, and snapping away the smallest branches of a dozen trees.
“I won't tell you again. Hold still and I'll be gentle and quick. Do something stupid like run or fire another arrow and you'll twist and burn.”
Jade struggled to her feet and fumbled for another arrow, but the force had torn them all away. She raised her gaze to the wizard. Her eyes darted upward briefly before opening wide as saucers. In a sprawling motion, she dropped to the ground, hands covering her head.
“That's a good girl. Just hold--”
Had the thunder not left her near deaf, she might have heard the crackle of broken trees being forced aside. Instead, Damona's first warning was a flare of light. Her second was a rush of heat. There was no time for a third.
Flames rushed about her form before a word of magic could be spoken. A half-dozen spells designed to protect her shattered beneath the might of a direct blast of dragon's fire. In an instant, without so much as a gasp of pain, Damona was no more.
Jade raised her head to see a smoldering crater where once the sorceress had been. There was no trace of humanity left in the blackened, steaming ground. As her eyes crept upward, she saw Halfax. She felt as though someone had torn the heart from her body. The lightning had fairly split him in two, a jagged red slice running from snout to tail along his right side and across his eye. Blood poured along the length of t
he sizzling wound. Both wings were shredded tatters, and his jaw and one foreleg were horribly crooked. Whatever strength had allowed him to haul himself free for this final attack was draining away. Finally, he collapsed on his left side.
Jade rushed to him, tears in her eyes. Every fiber of her being wanted her to cradle Halfax's head in her arms. She wanted to beg him to be all right, to pray that he could be saved. Had she been any other girl, perhaps she would have. But Halfax had spent as much time raising her as her own parents, and she had learned much from him. She'd learned that if you needed something, you learned how to get it. If you couldn't afford to lose something, you did what it took to keep it safe.
“Hal! Halfax, listen to me!” she cried out, tears in her eyes. “I need you to open your eyes! Listen to me!”
The beast's eyelid wavered slightly.
“Listen!” she cried, slapping the dragon and very nearly gashing her hand in the process.
His one healthy eye pulled slowly open and focused weakly upon her.
“Halfax, focus on me! Stay focused! I can help you! I am going to the tower to get some things and I am going to fix you right up, okay!?” she shouted as the tears ran down her cheeks. “I just need you to keep your eyes open, do you understand? Just keep breathing. I'll do the rest!”
With that, Jade sprinted back to the tower and grabbed as much as she could carry, lugging bulging bags and clanking tools back to the dragon's side. The beast was still breathing, but only just. There was no time to lose, so she set immediately about her task.
There were only a handful of humans in the world who knew anything about how to treat a dragon's wounds, and none had written any of the books in the tower. Jade knew a great deal about healing humans, though, and other animals as well. Many of the books had been devoted to those subjects. What's more, having spent most of her life beside Halfax had brought her a great deal of knowledge about his kind. She had all of the pieces, then. She just had to hope that she could find the right way to put them together before it was too late.
Blankets and rope became makeshift bandages on a dragon's scale. She'd seen him sear minor cuts closed with a burst of flame. The edge of a kitchen knife heated over a hastily built fire did the same job. For wounds too wide to be similarly sealed, strips of sinew and techniques learned from a book about leather armor repair did for a dragon what needle and thread would do for a person. Long, stout branches became splints, and all of the strength she could muster managed to set broken bones. Mixtures of herbs and extracts were poured down his throat in doses dozens of times stronger than the recipes recommended. It was an ordeal, lasting hours, but Jade worked tirelessly. Not until her resources were completely depleted did she relent, well into the night.
She placed her weary head on the beast's chest. A weak but steady heartbeat greeted her. Jade took a step back. Halfax's potent blood stung at her hands and stained every inch of her clothes. Without her purpose to sustain her, all of the exhaustion she'd managed to push aside came down upon her at once. She lowered herself to the icy ground, leaned against her deeply sleeping protector, and made ready to close her eyes.
Motion at the edge of the fire's light jarred her eyes open again. She knew the forest was a place of struggle, a place of predators and prey. For the woodland hunters, the scent of blood was like an alarm bell. If it was the blood of small creature, it meant an easy meal; the blood of a larger predator meant much more. Wild creatures understood competition, and she knew that they all would know that a fallen dragon, if it could be kept from rising, meant more meat for all.
It was not one form but many; several sets of fiery yellow eyes gleamed in the flickering light. Wolves, eager to take Halfax's place for themselves, were gathering. Jade crept to the flames, pulled free a burning branch, and planted herself beside her friend. The dragon had pushed himself beyond the limit to keep her safe. She owed it to him to do the same.
Chapter 7
“Hal? Hal?” Jade's wavering voice was pleading.
The dragon's good eye opened. He was wracked by sharp, constant pain, but he was alive. Inches in front of his face was Jade. She looked dead on her feet, and she was shivering violently from the cold, but seeing her friend awake brought a brief spark of joy.
“Don't try to talk. Your jaw was broken, so I had to tie it shut. I think . . . I think two of your legs are broken, too, but . . . can you stand? We need to get back to the tower.”
Halfax painfully raised his head. The light of the rising sun revealed the remnants of Jade's hellish night. All around them, the snow was littered with paw prints. Here and there, charred branches lay discarded. The dragon could only imagine what sort of experience the girl had been through, but he could learn of it later. For now, Jade was right. They needed shelter.
Amid growls and groans of pain, Halfax struggled to his feet. Wooden splints creaked, bandaged wounds trickled blood, and ropes strained, but he managed to stand. Together, the dragon limped and the girl trudged back to the tower. Once there, each collapsed into a long, necessary slumber.
#
The time that followed was difficult. Halfax could barely walk, and received a stern reprimand from Jade whenever he tried. That left her to provide all of the food for both of them. The young girl fortunately became an able hunter in very short order, having seen him do it so often, but even with her well-stocked garden to supplement her own meals, there were times when food had to be rationed. Without Halfax to ride to and from town, and with neither willing to consider leaving the other for long enough for her to make the journey on foot, certain supplies began to run low.
Soon, all her waking moments were filled with hunting, gardening, fashioning arrows, and preparing traps for the next day's hunt. What little time was left to spare was spent scrutinizing the books of the tower. Many of them were dedicated to healing, and she hungrily devoured every hint of a treatment that might lead Halfax to a swifter and more complete recovery. Unfortunately she had exhausted all that the impressive library had to say on the subject of conventional remedies. There were volumes more to read, but all dealt with “white magic.”
Jade was dedicated to doing all she could to help her friend, but the thought of even attempting to cast a spell was terrifying to her. Halfax had warned over and over again that magic was for those trained to use it. It wasn't evil or good, but it could do terrible things if used improperly. That didn't change the fact the Halfax's wings would never heal on their own, and no amount of time would give him the sight back in his right eye. In defending her, he had paid a terrible price. She had to repay him somehow.
#
A rattle shook the whole of the tower. Jade was jarred awake--first startled, then disappointed. By the time she'd reached the door of Halfax's stable, he was only just getting to his feet again.
“What are you doing?” Jade scolded.
“It will be dawn soon. I need to hunt,” he said without looking, limping painfully toward the forest.
“It sounded like a herd of elephants when you tried to stand up. I hope you don't expect to sneak up on anything,” she said, walking alongside him, “and I don't think you'll be chasing anything down either. Go lie down. If you want food, I'll get you something.”
Halfax continued walking.
“You'll never lose that limp if you don't give your bones some rest. You shouldn't even be talking. That jaw still looks horribly swollen.”
“It is fine,” he grunted.
In response, Jade prodded it with a finger. The beast jerked away with a hiss of pain.
“Clearly,” she said. “You know, Halfax, I can remember a time when the idea of you telling a lie would have been unthinkable. What is this all about?”
The dragon sat heavily.
“If you were not here, I would have to do this alone. I need to be able to fend for myself.”
“Hal, if I wasn't here, this never would have happened to you. And if you weren't here, I wouldn't even be alive. You've saved my life so many times, a
nd you've taken care of me for so long, it is only right that I return the favor.”
“You shouldn't have to do this. It isn't the way it is supposed to be.”
“I don't have to do this, Hal. I'm doing it because I want to. Look at me, Halfax. Do you understand?”
Halfax merely stared at her.
“That's not what's wrong, is it?” she said, slowly realizing. “It isn't that I need to do it for you. It is that you need me to do it for you. That's it, isn't it?”
“For hundreds and hundreds of years it has been the same. I am the protector. Generation after generation. Choose the strongest, or the youngest, or the only child. Keep it safe. It is what I am. It was all I was ever meant to be. I stand between you and your enemies. That is how it had always been before you. Then I found you, and I had to feed you. Comfort you. I had to protect your feelings. It was not enough to make you safe, I had to make you feel safe. And now . . . now you feed me? You protect me? That is not how it is supposed to be!”
He stomped a healthy leg with enough force to shake snow from trees at the edge of the clearing.
“Maybe not for dragons, but that is exactly how it works for humans. First parents take care of children, then children take care of the parents. That's family.”
“I am not family.”
Jade smiled and pulled the dragon's head close, kissing him lightly on the snout.
“You are to me, Hal,” she said softly. Then, with a slap to the head and a point to the stable, she added, “Now go lay down and I'll catch you some breakfast!”
#
Jade put down the day's kill. It had taken more time than usual to bring it back. The sun was still high in the sky, but there was much to do. As she gathered her tools to prepare the food, her eyes turned to Halfax. The beast was anything but emotional, and what little he felt seldom showed on his face. To the trained eye, though, it was just as simple to determine his disposition as that of anyone else. Right now he looked defeated, forlorn. It wasn't until his injury that it had become clear how important it was to Halfax that he be useful. His purpose defined him, it was what drove him. Until his strength returned, though, as far as he was concerned, he was little more than a burden. The sense of worthlessness had robbed him of his appetite. He barely even moved, save one attempt early each morning to see if his bones would allow him either the stealth or speed to hunt and defend once more.
The Book of Deacon Anthology Page 138
