Skyborn

by Lou Anders

  The great dragon Orm wheeled in the sky.

  The first blast of his deadly breath had reduced the mirror to slag in seconds. Soldiers fled from the remains of the tower, yelling and screaming delightfully.

  “I had forgotten how fun it could be,” the Doom of Sardeth said, laughing, “to take an active interest in the affairs of the world. I really should travel more often.”

  “Remember, little brother,” said his sister Orma, gliding in the air alongside him. “We’re only here to fight the bad people. Not burn the place to the ground like you did the last time you attacked a city.”

  “Watch who you are calling ‘little,’ ” Orm replied. But he chuckled. It was good to have his sibling back. And to think he owed her return to the world to the boy Karn and the half giant Thianna.

  “I may not be the biggest, but I’m still firstborn,” Orma reminded her brother.

  “Firstborn but no longer eldest,” he replied. “Not by many centuries.”

  Granted, Orma had been the first of the siblings to hatch, but through an accident of magic Orm was now over a millennium older than she was. And also considerably bigger.

  If you want my opinion, you are both frighteningly large, said the wyvern in Orm’s mind. The small reptile fluttered between the two enormous dragons like a moth between hawks. Long ago it had borne Talaria all the way to Ymiria, and recently it had carried Thianna’s message to the Dragon Queen of Gordasha. But Orma had insisted on enlisting her brother’s aid before invading Thica.

  “We have company in the skies,” observed Orma.

  A squadron of wyvern riders were lifting into the air, heading for the dragons.

  “We’re agreed that these are ‘bad people’?” the great dragon asked.

  “The riders are,” said Orma. “But the mounts have no choice but to serve. Eat as few as you can. Try to scare the bulk of them away.”

  “Were you always such a killer of joy?” grumbled Orm, tucking his wings and going into a dive. But he laughed like a thunderstorm as the squadron maneuvered frantically to escape the enormous dragon.

  “I knew getting out once in a while would be good for him,” said Orma, beating her wings to join her “little brother.”

  —

  The snowball struck Xalthea full in the face.

  She stumbled, her foot failing to crush Thianna’s fingers. The queen spit the snow from her mouth, anger boiling in her eyes.

  “Impudent creature,” she said. “You don’t mock me! This is your moment of death.”

  “Then mocking is exactly what I do,” said Thianna, who hurled another snowball.

  Xalthea deflected this one with her arm, but she was no less angry. Then she raised her sword.

  Karn crashed into the monarch, knocking her aside. She recovered quickly, thrusting her blade at the Norrønur who had spoiled her moment of triumph over the frost giant.

  Karn caught Xalthea’s attack on Whitestorm. He had a pelta shield and used it to batter at the queen.

  Then Desstra appeared, striking with her dwarven hammer.

  Thianna hoisted herself from out of the hole and joined her two companions.

  “Bet you wish you had some friends now too, don’t you?” she taunted the queen.

  Faced with three determined attackers, Xalthea retreated. Her withdrawal took her to where the edge of the board met the edge of the cliff. But her path was blocked.

  Queen Melantha stood waiting for her fellow monarch, sword in hand.

  Xalthea smiled.

  “Now the odds are more even,” the Sky Queen said.

  “You are mistaken,” replied the Land Queen. “Now the odds are four to one.”

  Xalthea was stunned.

  “You—you oppose me?”

  “I should have opposed you long ago,” said Melantha. “We are not the strength that Thica deserves.” She glanced at Thianna. “And there is more than one way to be strong.”

  “Lies,” said Xalthea, and she struck with her sword at her co-monarch.

  “Watch out!” the giantess called, but it was too late. The blade found its target. But as Melantha collapsed, she clutched Xalthea tightly. Fear shone in the Sky Queen’s eyes as she found herself yanked off her feet.

  Thianna moved to catch them, either of them, as they fell, but it was hopeless. The two queens of Caldera tumbled over the cliff’s edge, plunging to the rocks at the base of the mountain.

  The frost giant looked to Karn and Desstra. Beyond them she saw that their other companions had triumphed over their opponents. But of one person there was no sign.

  “Sirena,” she said. Her cousin was gone and Thianna knew where she was headed. She would have to be stopped or all of this was for nothing.

  —

  The first cracks in the eggs were appearing. Thin lines growing and spreading in shell after shell. The noise of hundreds of infant wyverns chipping away from the inside of their prisons was like the incessant drumming of rain on a rooftop.

  Sirena held the Horn of Osius. She could still fix things. When the young reptiles hatched, she would sound the notes that would enslave them to a life of servitude to Caldera. Her people would still rule the skies. This rebellion would be put down. Caldera would be strong again. They had suffered defeat before. They would suffer this. The city-states would be brought to heel again, the dactyls punished for their betrayal. It was all still possible. As long as they had mastery of the skies.

  Shells began to burst around her. The air filled with susurrations as infant wyverns crawled hissing into the light.

  Sirena smiled. And blew the horn.

  A hundred pairs of eyes fixed on her. She had their undivided attention. And she could feel each of their minds. Now, when their newborn minds were still empty of anything else and at their most receptive, it was time to lay down the commands that would last throughout the wyverns’ lives. Now she would play the music of obedience and servitude and duty to Caldera.

  Sirena could feel the walls of the wyverns’ minds collapsing as she pushed her own will into them. They hissed in fear at the invasion of their thoughts. But she flooded them with herself and they could not resist.

  Then unexpectedly something pushed back. It was another mind. A powerful one. Interfering with her own commands.

  Sirena spun. Thianna Frostborn stood at the doorway to the hatchery. The frost giant tapped her own temple and grinned.

  “Do you have to ruin everything?” Sirena spat.

  “It’s a gift, I know,” replied her cousin.

  “A gift?” the Keras Keeper replied. She drew her sword and began advancing up the stairs toward the larger girl. “Come here and let me give you another one.”

  Thianna readied her own weapon. Then Sirena was swinging for her. The frost giant’s height should have given her the advantage, but combined with her position higher on the stairs she was almost too tall. She had to bend awkwardly to defend her legs, while her cousin’s fury gave the smaller girl strength.

  They danced amid the reptiles, which hissed and cried at the battle still playing out inside their minds. As sword clashed against sword, will clashed against will. Thianna and Sirena struggled for control of the Horn of Osius. Each of them could feel it, a power almost too terrible to contemplate that would belong only to the victor.

  —

  Karn smiled as Desstra joined him on the palace grounds.

  “We’ve gotten them on the run here,” he said.

  “Tower’s gone too,” the elf replied.

  “I noticed,” Karn said. “But I admit I didn’t expect dragon fire to be the cause.”

  “Yes,” said Desstra, “nothing like having a dragon upstage your performance.”

  “I think you did pretty well,” said Karn.

  “I think Thianna did pretty well,” said Desstra. “I could hear her raging when I was dangling off the cliff. She almost convinced me I’d been killed.”

  Karn laughed. Making sure that Desstra had been the first one on their side to fall
in Queen’s Champion had been tricky, but their plan had worked beautifully. He pointed at the gate to the middle district.

  “Let’s see how things look from there,” he said. “See where we can do the most good.”

  Daphne, Asterius, and Talos joined them as they made their way to the gate. King Herakles’s forces held this section of the wall now, so they weren’t challenged as they ran. They stood under the raised portcullis and gazed down at the city of Caldera. At the city’s south gate, the scorpion riders had overwhelmed the hippalektryon cavalry. The dactyls had joined with scattered bands of helots who saw a chance at freedom. Together they had taken much of the middle and lower districts. And the forces of the tree folk controlled the northernmost sections of the island. Calderan forces were split amid the city, cut off from each other, and divided by the need to protect the city while dealing with the dragon threat from above. And without their queens, the soldiers appeared directionless and uncertain.

  “I think we’ve won,” said Karn.

  “Wait,” said Desstra, “what’s going on there?”

  Karn followed the elf’s gaze. An enormous wave was rolling in off the coast. It broke up on the breakwaters at either end but as it was nearly perpendicular to the city, its midsection passed straight through, a gigantic wall of sea and foam that sent boats hurling out of their moorings to crash into buildings at the docks.

  “Tidal wave?” asked Karn.

  “Not this far from the ocean,” said Talos. “That was not natural.”

  “Not natural?” Karn fought a growing sense of alarm. “What do you mean, not natural? Those waves are huge. What in the world could be making waves that size?”

  Something colossal rose from the waters beyond the battered docks. A giant dragonlike head.

  “That’s…that’s even bigger than Orm,” said Karn.

  “Who?” asked Asterius.

  “A Great Dragon,” Desstra explained.

  “I think this is a Greater Dragon,” said Talos.

  Then another head rose from the water.

  “Two Great Dragons?” said the minotaur.

  Another head rose. And another.

  “I do not believe so,” said the automaton.

  “How many of these things are there?” wailed Daphne. Her leaves were trying to curl up over her face.

  “Only one,” said Talos as more heads rose from the water.

  “One?” said Karn. “Aren’t you seeing what we’re seeing? There’s dozens of them!”

  “No,” said Talos. “There are not.”

  The heads were all lifting from the water and moving toward the city. As they rose, their long scaled necks were exposed. The necks each connected to a single gargantuan body.

  “Behold,” said Talos. “The Mega Hydra.”

  Thianna and Sirena battled amid the screeching newborn reptiles. They stepped in and among the wyverns, moving up and down the concentric steps of the hatchery.

  “I’ve already fought you once today,” said the giantess. “Haven’t you had enough?”

  “Never,” replied her cousin. “But if all I can do is pay you back for what you’ve done…”

  Suddenly Thianna’s foot slipped on the discarded yolk sac of a newly hatched egg. Her legs went out from under her and she landed hard on her backside.

  “Oh gross,” she said, sitting in the sticky mess. “See? This is exactly the sort of occasion where wearing barbarian pants would be useful.”

  Sirena wasn’t amused. She took the opportunity of her cousin’s distraction to launch herself at the larger girl, knocking her back and attempting to pin her down.

  Straddling the giantess, Sirena raised her blade in both hands. She brought it down.

  Thianna caught her wrists.

  Sirena strained to drive the sword into her cousin’s throat. The big girl was strong. But the smaller girl was determined. The point of the blade lowered.

  The door to the Hatchery banged open. Karn Korlundsson ran into the room. His face was white. Whiter than usual.

  “Thianna, you’ve got to see this!”

  “Can it wait?” replied his friend. “I’m sort of in the middle of something.”

  Karn leapt to where the two girls were still locked in a deadly conflict.

  “Sirena,” he said. “You need to come too. Something more important has come up. Your city is in terrible danger.”

  “I know,” the Keras Keeper replied through gritted teeth. “I’m taking care of that danger now.”

  “Not from us,” said Karn. “Something else is attacking. It’s gargantuan—the biggest thing I’ve ever seen. You have to come now before it’s too late.”

  Sirena looked from Karn to Thianna.

  “We’re all in danger,” the boy said.

  “We can finish this later,” Thianna added.

  Sirena hesitated, then nodded. She slipped off the larger girl.

  “Show me,” she said to the Norrønur, then the three of them ran from the room.

  —

  “Sweet Ymir’s…”

  Thianna’s voice dropped off. The creature climbing out of the harbor and advancing up the hillside was like nothing she had ever seen before. Or even imagined.

  “What in the wide, wide world of Qualth is that?” she said.

  “It’s called a Mega Hydra,” said Karn.

  “What is it?” the frost giant said.

  “It’s like a hydra,” said Karn. “Only mega. Only don’t ask me what a hydra is.”

  “An ancient monster,” said Sirena. She looked every bit as stunned as her cousin. “A creature from the Dawn Age.”

  I warned you, said a voice in her mind. Sirena looked to the sky above. Thianna, who must have heard the voice too, did as well. The traitorous, battered wyvern flapped above their heads.

  I warned you that strong blasts carry far, it said. Now look what you have awoken.

  “This is my fault,” said Sirena. She turned to Thianna. “I thought…I thought you were destroying my city. But I have. Help me.”

  “Against that?” said the frost giant. She was still having trouble coming to terms with the Mega Hydra’s size.

  “Please,” her cousin said. “There will be nothing left of us if we don’t do something.” There was no pride in her voice now. Only pleading.

  Thianna tore her eyes from the colossal monster to look between Karn and Sirena.

  “Give me that,” she said.

  Sirena looked at the Horn of Osius in her left hand. Then she passed it to her cousin without objection.

  Thianna raised the horn.

  Instantly her mind was a jumble of sound. She felt little sensations, like swarms of insects buzzing at her ears. That was the wyverns. Two larger minds were clearly Orm and Orma. But dwarfing all of this was a cacophony of overlapping awarenesses, massive and angry.

  She let loose a blast, forcing herself on the titanic creature. All the heads suddenly turned her way.

  The frost giant was thrown backward. She flew across through the air like a rag doll and landed heavily in the dirt.

  “Thianna!” shouted Karn, racing to his friend’s side. “Are you all right?”

  Thianna shook herself, wincing at the pain in her forehead.

  “Too many…too many heads,” she said. “I can’t do more than irritate it.”

  Karn helped her to her feet. Below them the Mega Hydra was clambering up the slope of the hill. It crushed homes under its bulk, smashed walls and buildings to splinters. People were running screaming from it, but its attention was fixed at the top of the hill.

  As they watched, a group of wyvern riders approached, readying flame lances. But their deadly Thican fire was like a tiny candle flame sputtering against the impenetrable scales of the Mega Hydra. Then it turned one of its many heads and vomited a cloud of purple smoke. Wyverns folded their wings and dropped from the sky.

  “It breathes clouds of poison gas,” said Karn. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “We’re lost,” sai
d Sirena. Her voice was distant, defeated.

  —

  The Great Dragon Orm was surprised. It wasn’t a sensation to which he was accustomed.

  “Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” he said.

  His sister broke off her pursuit of a squadron of wyvern riders to see what had her sibling’s attention.

  “Oh dear,” she said. “We have to do something.”

  “We?” replied the Great Dragon.

  “It will destroy the city,” said Orma.

  “What if it does?” rumbled Orm. “I’ve destroyed cities too. Why should I have all the fun?”

  “What happened to taking an active interest in the affairs of the world?” she asked.

  “There is active, and then there is active,” he replied.

  “Fine, little brother,” she said, emphasizing the word little because she knew that it would rattle him. “If you’re afraid, you can stay back and watch how it’s done.”

  Then Orma folded her wings and dove at the monster.

  As the dragon approached, she unleashed a blast of flame at the Mega Hydra. The white-hot dragon fire roiled over one of the creature’s heads. But when Orma banked aside, the head was unscathed.

  Two more heads lunged at her and it was all she could do to dodge them and escape.

  Then a third head seized her tail in its teeth, yanking her from the air. She roared. Twisting, she brought her jaws down on its neck. With a satisfying crunch she bit through its vertebrae and tore the head off. The severed head fell crashing to the ground and the neck spasmed, flinging gore across the city.

  “That will teach you to grab a dragon by the tail,” Orma proclaimed. She beat her wings to rise into the air, out of reach of the Mega Hydra. But as she watched, the severed neck ceased to thrash and straightened. Something appeared to be pushing out of the stump. Two somethings.

  Orma watched in amazement as two new heads emerged from the neck. The neck itself divided down its length, so that each head had its own connection to the beast’s torso.

  “It regenerates!” she said. “How does one defeat an opponent that grows more terrible as you strike it?”

  Orma was stunned. She’d missed out on the millennia-plus of life that her brother had experienced, but she was still a dragon with several centuries of age. She wasn’t used to foes she couldn’t defeat or devour. But she wouldn’t give up. She would fling herself against the Mega Hydra until it finished her.