Dion cursed. The wildren were approaching from the same direction as his fleet, and would prevent him making a surprise attack.
They were also dangerous beyond imagining.
This was the last thing he needed.
60
‘I said let him go.’ Dalton stood with the other eldren from the Waste arrayed around him. ‘You have gone too far, Triton. Yes, in the battle at Phalesia we fought those from the Wilds when the horn was within our grasp, for reclaiming Sindara was always our goal, just as humans were always our enemies. But we were fighting for a cause, we had an objective. We never sought to destroy Zachary or those with him because we never thought of them as enemies. Now we keep captives and burn the homes of our kin. You have changed, and we have followed you into darkness. Your desire for power has perverted your spirit.’
Triton released his grip around Eiric’s neck and wheeled on the old man. Eiric’s throat opened and he gasped. Everything around him was taking place in a haze; he was only dimly aware of the confrontation between Triton and Dalton.
Eiric watched as Triton strode over to the smaller man, and when he saw the expression on Triton’s face he knew that Dalton was going to die. Filled with desperation, he sucked in another lungful of air. He had to do something to save the old eldran’s life.
‘Let me speak,’ he croaked.
Triton spun again. ‘And now you have something to say.’
Fighting the pain, Eiric forced himself to speak loud enough for them all to hear, directing his words at the eldren from the Waste.
‘Dalton is right. Eldren should not be fighting eldren.’ He drew in another labored breath. ‘But nor should we be fighting humans. Our ancient enemy was the king of Aleuthea, and Marrix had his revenge. The Aleutheans are all gone.’ He saw their eyes on him and summoned the last of his strength to continue. ‘My father always wanted peace. He wanted—’
‘Enough!’ Triton bellowed. ‘There will never be peace between the races.’
As swift as the eye could follow, a plummeting silver dragon dived from above, legs outstretched, jaws parted as it roared. It flew directly past the circle of trees and descended on the basin.
Triton whirled. His eyes widened with sudden fear.
The dragon struck him head on.
61
Roxana ordered her fleet to close ranks, forming the Xanthian warships once more into a row, with each ram facing forward like a volley of javelins thrown by the sea god. She would now make a second pass at the enemy. Perhaps this time she would be able to split their line and fragment them into two smaller forces, which would give her the advantage she needed. She left the sinking wreckage of two of her biremes behind.
‘We’re making another pass!’ she bellowed. ‘Set the helm for the center of their line. When we’re within hailing distance we’ll bear to starboard and then change our approach and veer to port. We need to outsteer them. Lads, you’d best be ready!’
She peered out to sea as the drum below decks pounded along with the waves smashing against the hull of her flagship, the Anoraxis. The ships of her fleet began to wheel like a flock of birds turning as one. Dead ahead, the Ilean fleet came on, each ship flying a yellow flag with an orange sun.
Roxana strode across the deck and hectored the Xanthian archers. ‘You’ve got the better range, so I want every shot to count as we come in! You’ll have a chance for two, maybe three shots, then I want those shields up. They’re using fire arrows so you’d better stop them or we’ll be fighting flames on the deck. Understood?’
‘Aye!’
‘Raise that sail!’
‘Captain.’ A swarthy hook-nosed man approached. Hasha was originally from Ilea but he’d also been captured after the Battle of Phalesia and was now her second-in-command. ‘With the sail up there’s twice the chance we’ll catch fire. All it takes is a single arrow—’
‘We need the extra speed. Get it down before we’re in range. Make that your priority.’ Roxana lifted a finger. ‘But not until you have to.’
‘There’s . . .’ Hasha looked out at the enemy biremes, counting the yellow flags, ‘There’s a dozen ships, to our six . . .’
‘Thirteen, you mean.’
‘Thirteen.’ He shook his head, lowering his voice so only she could hear him. ‘There’s too many of them. It’s not too late to ask for parley. I can run the white flag . . .’
Roxana whirled him off to the side, gripping him by the shoulder. ‘So we ask for parley. Then what happens?’
‘Well.’ He licked his lips. ‘We come to terms.’
‘What terms?’ she barked.
‘Our surrender.’
‘And then?’
‘Then . . .’ He hesitated. ‘They’ll ask the Ileans among us to join them.’
‘Demand, more like it. And then . . . ?’
‘Well . . .’
‘They’re not going to return to Lamara empty-handed. They’ll kill the Galeans in our crew and then force the rest to join them in sacking Phalesia and Xanthos. This is a mission of vengeance, so we’re talking about more than simple conquest. You have friends among the Galeans. How do you feel about witnessing their homes burned to the ground? I promised Nikolas I’d defend his kingdom and I’m not going to go back on my word.’
‘I understand,’ Hasha said. ‘I do. But this is suicide.’
Legs astride, first glancing around to see that the Anoraxis was ready for combat, Roxana crossed her arms over her stocky chest. ‘Were you ever a child, Hasha?’
‘I . . .’ He frowned. ‘Of course, Captain.’
‘Were you ever attacked by a bully?’
‘I suppose—’
‘When we fight back, and win, the bully withdraws. But he always returns, because to keep his status he must repay the humiliation. The new king of Ilea is the bully. But the people of Xanthos and Phalesia? They’re only defending themselves.’
‘But the Ileans . . . They’re going to win.’
Roxana’s broad face split into a grin. ‘Have you so little faith? Yes, we’re outnumbered. And yes, our enemies have more experience than the Xanthians fighting at sea. But you’re forgetting something.’
‘What?’
Her smile became fierce. ‘Commanding ships is what I was put on this earth to do.’
62
A heartbeat before the collision Chloe jumped off the dragon’s back, rolling and tumbling onto the ground. Leaping to her feet, she saw dozens of eldren staring at her with wide eyes, indecisive, so stunned they were frozen into inaction.
She was in a wide circular basin with low rocky walls, encircled by gnarled trees on the high ground, with a bottomless pool of black water filling half the space and the rest made up of a carpet of burned flakes like the remnants of an old fire. Hammocks made of skins slung from stakes lined the back wall. Campfires dotted the area with butchered carcasses ready to cook nearby. The thick air stank of ash and mold.
She barely had time to take the scene in before she finally spotted Eiric and started running. He was bound to a wooden pole, hanging limp and wretched but with eyes alert. Staff in hand, encumbered by her and Liana’s possessions, it felt like an eternity before she reached him. Eiric’s golden eyes barely registered her approach; he was watching in horror as Liana grappled with Triton. Behind her, the snarls and roars spurred Chloe on.
‘Eiric . . .’ Chloe panted.
Throwing staff and satchels to the ground, Chloe hardly recognized Zachary’s son. His face was swollen and his chest was bare, displaying savage burn marks. An iron chain was fastened around his neck and the breath rattled in his chest. His shoulders were slumped and his knees were bent, his weight entirely supported by the stake behind his back.
‘Liana,’ he whispered.
Chloe glanced over her shoulder and her breath caught when she saw Liana, still a wiry silver dragon, now battling the biggest giant Chloe had ever seen. The one-eyed giant bellowed, ropy arms batting the dragon’s attacks aside like a man swatting a fly
. The dragon’s jaws snapped at empty air as the giant wrapped a hand around her long neck. A clenched fist the size of a barrel smashed into the wedge-shaped head once, twice, three times. The dragon’s almond eyes fluttered, one wing over the water becoming submerged as she rolled to the side, limbs closing in to protect her body from the blows.
‘Liana!’ Eiric cried.
Chloe furiously tugged at the bonds behind his ankles but couldn’t free the tough deer gut.
‘Here!’ a reedy voice called. Chloe turned and saw an eldran with silver-white hair and wrinkled skin. He threw something and she saw a piece of dark stone fall to the ground nearby: an obsidian knife.
Knowing she was running out of time, Chloe grabbed the knife and returned to Eiric’s side as he screamed Liana’s name. She cut the bonds at his ankles and then wrists; immediately Eiric fell to the ground.
Looking to the struggle between the two eldren, Chloe gasped in horror as she saw the fight had gone out of Liana: the giant had put a knee on the dragon’s back. His one eye glaring, mouth parted, teeth bared, he now leaned down on her.
Triton was going to break Liana’s spine.
‘You have to change!’ Chloe begged Eiric. On his hands and knees, she saw that he was struggling to stand, let alone change. Then she realized the purpose of the iron chain around his neck: his power was confined; as an eldran he could never touch it.
Her fingers fumbled at the chain’s clasp. The dragon roared with pain. The roar became a scream. Finally the chain fell to the ground. Chloe straightened, fists clenched at her sides as she waited for Eiric to change.
He looked at her in desperation and shook his head.
Chloe’s eyes went to the staff lying on the ground. Rushing over, she picked it up and faced the pool’s edge, where the giant had the dragon’s back half bent, body twisted in a contorted position. At any instant Chloe would hear a spine-shattering crack.
She took two steps forward. Gripping the staff tightly, her encircling fingers touching the copper, she lifted it high.
Chloe again touched the fire that raged inside her, yearning to be unleashed. Her power sensed the copper and she felt it being drawn to the metal, but then it pulled back, losing focus, becoming a torrent rather than a directed stream. Filled with urgency, she knew she had to concentrate harder than she ever had before. She had to drive out the fear and the desire for violent action; she was working with copper. She needed to bring her thoughts into harmony.
Never before had Chloe realized how difficult it would be in the heat of battle. Trying to think of something that would bring her thoughts into focus, she thrust her mind back to the time she’d played her copper flute for Solon, with the great pyramid looming over her, its shining surface clad in gold. But his dark eyes had been on her; she hadn’t been as calm as she needed to be.
Chloe cast back still further, to a time when she’d been in a place where she felt safe, in the company of the people she loved. Seated at her father’s table, her flute was pressed to her lips as she sat directly across from a young man with flaxen hair, a square jaw, and tanned skin. Her father sat at her side, gazing at her fondly. Dion was watching her face as if interpreting a beautiful painting, trying to memorize what he was seeing, attempting to uncover hidden secrets.
Chloe closed her eyes. She found her moment of harmony.
As she’d learned from Vikram, she imagined a pure, crystal clear note, banishing the roars of the giant and anguished moans of the dragon, and then let it grow in intensity. Once she had the sound perfected, conceiving it, holding on to it, she opened her eyes.
She now had to throw it.
She tilted the staff so that the two pointed tines of the copper fork faced the giant’s monstrous head, which was so high above her that she was pointing up at the sky.
Chloe cried out.
She released her power.
The copper fork flared, glowing brightly. A warbling shriek filled the air, the sound of a million birds crying out with one voice. The entire staff, from base to tip, shook like a branch in a storm. The resonator hummed and quivered as she projected her power in the direction she was pointing.
The giant released the dragon and rose to his immense height. He emitted a terrible groaning scream. His huge hands clapped over his ears.
As soon as he released her, the dragon clouded with gray mist that wavered for a moment before vanishing, leaving Liana in its place, sprawled out on the black earth with limbs akimbo, half her body in the black water, eyes tightly closed so that Chloe didn’t know if her friend was alive or dead.
The other eldren all fell to the ground, grimacing, hands pressed tightly against the sides of their heads.
Chloe held the staff pointed directly at the giant’s head as he stumbled and lurched. He nearly tumbled into the pool but then staggered in the opposite direction. He kicked a fire but didn’t appear to notice, scattering red embers across the ground. Finally, when he fell to one knee, she began to feel triumphant. Walking forward, she kept her weapon pointed at her enemy and glanced at the copper fork.
Horror sank into her chest.
The metal was tarnishing even as she watched. Green discoloration crept up from the base, spreading to the apex of the fork, traveling along both tines at the same time. Suddenly the copper was entirely green, and then the metal began to flake away, falling to the ground.
The sound stopped as suddenly as it started. Chloe felt exhaustion descend, like a crushing weight on her shoulders. A headache pounded at her temples, along with a painful buzzing in her ears. She was now holding a wooden staff with nothing at the end at all.
The giant shuddered. He glared at her as he climbed back to his feet. With long, ground-shaking strides, he began to walk toward her.
But then Chloe heard a soft, female voice. She glanced at the pool’s edge and saw Liana lift her head and look past Chloe’s shoulder.
‘Do it,’ Liana said.
Liana had her eyes on Eiric. Chloe whirled, expecting to see Eiric changed into some powerful shape, but he was still on his hands and knees. He had his eyes on something on the ground, something that had spilled out of Liana’s satchel and was now just a short distance from his hand.
Eiric set his jaw in determination. He reached out and grabbed the object, just as Chloe realized what it was.
It was a horn.
Every set of eyes was now on the tall eldran with the golden eyes who climbed to his feet, panting as he looked at the glowing conch shell in his hand. Despite the fact that the shell was white, it scattered bright rays of all colors over the area, a rainbow of light that was both captivating and terrible.
Chloe turned back to Triton, seeing that he was once again a one-eyed eldran. His fists were clenched at his sides, his face displaying more fury than she had ever seen on an eldran’s visage.
‘Do it!’ Liana cried.
Eiric met Chloe’s eyes, and then Liana’s. He put the horn to his lips.
For a moment nothing happened, and then a powerful rumble came from the horn, making Chloe’s teeth slam together so that she nearly bit her lip. She felt the noise with a shattering pain inside her skull, but now it was the eldren who were unperturbed as they watched Eiric with mouths open.
Sudden thunder pealed. A glowing circle with the horn at the epicenter rolled out, a ripple of multicolored light that started at Eiric and reached the edge of the basin in an instant and continued, both into the sky and out into the surrounding land. Gazing up, Chloe could see the concussive wave projected onwards and upwards. She knew that at the rate it was moving it would be striking the range of mountains encircling Cinder Fen in minutes.
Chloe had no idea what would happen next.
Eiric, son of Zachary and Aella, had sounded the horn of Marrix.
63
Dion ordered his fleet to increase to ramming speed. Beneath him, the Black Dragon leaped forward like a horse stung in the flank.
‘Dion!’ Cob growled, grabbing hold of his arm. ‘You ca
n’t do this.’
Dion urged his warships on, feeling the precious seconds trickle away with every passing moment. ‘We have to reach the battle. They’re about to close in again. Roxana’s going to be crushed!’
‘Can’t you see the danger right in front of you?’ Cob cried.
The three immense serpents ahead leaped out of the water and plunged back in, paddle-like tails visible for a heartbeat as they thrashed at the sea. With the increase in speed the fleet of the Free Men narrowed the distance between their line of warships and the wildren. Three hundred paces became two hundred paces, and then one.
‘You can’t attack them!’
‘I know that,’ Dion muttered.
Unlike the men he’d fought with alongside Roxana, his crew had no experience fighting wildren, and even Roxana would never take on more than one. For the time being the leviathans were consumed with the smoking wreckage and drowning men ahead, but if they turned . . .
Dion saw Aristocles standing at the bow, his hands gripping the rail as he watched the unfolding confrontation a mile away, urging the fleet of the Free Men to come to the aid of the Xanthian fleet before it was too late. The naval battle ahead was a scene of confusion as archers released volleys of arrows, rams tore gaping holes in vessels’ sides, and sails caught fire, becoming vertical sheets of flame. Ships flying yellow flags crashed alongside biremes flying crimson pennants. Splintering wood flew into the air.
Then the worst happened.
It was impossible to silence the shouts of Dion’s sailors and the clang of wood against wood made by the oarsmen. The pounding of the drums and smacking of the hulls on the crests of the waves were louder still.
First one serpent and then the other peeled away to the sides, and then their tails kicked and they whirled. All three wildren turned baleful eyes on the Black Dragon, the lead warship of the fleet, and converged.
Dion was under attack, and he knew his ship would never survive the concerted assault of three leviathans.
‘They’ll be busy with us,’ Dion said grimly. ‘Order the fleet on!’
Silver Road (The Shifting Tides Book 2) Page 38
