Skyborn

by Lou Anders

  “I wish Acmon were here,” she said, thinking of her friend and fellow Gordashan monarch. “It would be good to see him once more before the end.”

  Then Orma saw that her brother was descending to the summit of the hill.

  —

  Orm was none too careful where he landed. He took out a row of trees in front of the Twin Palaces, but thankfully no buildings or people. His eyes fixed on the frost giant and the Norrønur, his agents in the world.

  “You have the hateful thing,” he asked Thianna, meaning the Horn of Osius.

  “I do,” the giantess replied. She locked eyes with the dragon. Beside her, she could sense her cousin wilting at the presence of the Doom of Sardeth. But she was proud that Karn straightened and stood alongside her.

  “Good,” said the dragon. “Give it to me now and I will carry you out of here.”

  Thianna squared her shoulders. She knew that an offer to be carried by so proud a being as Orm was no small thing. But she wasn’t ready to leave.

  “I’m not done with it yet. And I’m not done here.”

  Orm growled. It was a deep rumbling sound that began somewhere in his belly and traveled up his long throat to emerge from between his spear-sized teeth.

  “Give it to me and I will destroy it. Withhold it and melt with it.”

  “You’ll get it when I am done with it,” said Thianna. “As much as Karn and I have been through on your quest, you owe us.”

  “I owe you?” said the dragon. He repeated the words again, as if he couldn’t believe them. “I. Owe. You? I owe nothing. You breathe now at my sufferance. I want the hateful thing destroyed.”

  “Wait,” said Karn. “We do too. Believe me, we do. But the city—the Hydra—”

  “I cannot fight that,” said Orm. “Even if it were my fight.”

  “It’s true,” said Orma, landing beside her brother. She was smaller than he, but also more careful where she put down. “I cut off one of its heads and it grew two more. There is no defeating a monster like that.”

  “Fire,” said Sirena. “The old legends say it’s vulnerable to fire.”

  “It resists fire,” said Orma. “Even my breath had no effect.”

  “Outside it’s impervious, yes,” said Sirena. “But inside it’s vulnerable. If you burn the stump after you strike off a head, it can’t sprout any more.”

  “But there are too many heads right now,” said Orma. “Only Orm and I are large enough to bite through the necks, but it has too many chances to attack us if we get that close.”

  Thianna looked to Karn.

  “You’re the strategy expert,” she said.

  “We distract it,” the Norrønur replied. “Give it something to divide all of its attention.”

  Thianna smiled.

  “I can be annoying when I want to be,” she said.

  “Can you really save my city?’ Sirena asked. “Can you save Caldera?”

  The giantess nodded.

  “It’s going to take all of us,” she said. “All of us. Working together.” She gazed up at the two dragons. “What do you say, Orm and Orma? The plan depends on the two of you.”

  “Well, brother,” said Orma. “You may slink back to your ruins if you like, but I am going to help these children save this city. Come now, who wants to live forever?”

  “I do,” grumbled the Great Dragon. “Still, perhaps this plan could work.” He turned his gaze on Thianna and Karn. “If I let her tackle the monster alone,” he said, “I would never hear the end of it.”

  “Good,” said Thianna. “Now I’m going to call the wyverns. And we need to find King Herakles. And, Sirena, this is going to cost you.”

  “Cost me?”

  “Their freedom. We’re giving everyone their freedom. The city-states. The wyverns. Perioikoi. Helots. It will be a new Caldera on the other side of this day. But it’s the only way there will be any Caldera at all.”

  “What can I do?” said Sirena, meaning “What choice do I have?” But Thianna didn’t take it that way.

  “Ride with me,” she said. “We’ll do this together, cousin and cousin.” Then she called to the battered reptile, still hovering in the air above, “How’s the wing?”

  Much stronger, the wyvern replied. It seems flying thousands of miles as your courier is better for the muscles than spending thirteen years locked away in the dark.

  “Imagine that,” said Thianna. “Think you can carry two?”

  —

  Karn and Talos ran through the middle districts of the city. The automaton had tapped him on the shoulder, asking him to follow. Talos wouldn’t say why, only that Karn’s presence was required for his plan to work.

  “You’re sure you know where you are going?” the Norrønur asked.

  “I will not dignify that with a response,” the Talosian replied.

  The automaton stopped before a row of statues. They stood on plinths in a square.

  “It is time,” he said. “I invoke our ancient obligation.”

  “Who are you talking to?” asked Karn.

  His companion did not reply. But an answer was not long in coming.

  One by one the statues stepped off their pedestals.

  As they moved, cracks appeared in the marble-colored pigment that had been applied to their bodies. Bronze metal showed underneath the faux-stone paint.

  “These aren’t statues,” Karn said in wonder. “They’re all Talosians. You had spies in the city.”

  “This is why I could not leave with you. I am the only one that can wake them.” The automaton gestured between the boy and his fellow Talosians. “Karn Korlundsson,” Talos said, “may I introduce you to Talos One Hundred Twenty-three, Talos Four Hundred Seventy-six, Talos Eight Hundred Twenty-two, Talos Nine Hundred Thirty-four, and Talos Nine Hundred Ninety-nine.” The automaton addressed the Talosians: “Wake the others in the city. We have much to accomplish.”

  “Others?” said Karn. “How many of you are there?”

  “Caldera is full of statues,” said the Talosian.

  —

  The Mega Hydra had reached the middle district of the city now. Desstra watched as it smashed through the inner walls, crushing stone towers under its massive torso. She turned to Daphne.

  “It’s a good thing fire doesn’t work on this thing’s hide,” she said.

  “Why?” asked the dryad.

  “Because now I don’t have to slap myself for melting all the cannons.” She handed one of her improvised explosives to the tree girl.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “No,” said Daphne. “But then I never am.” She managed a nervous smile.

  The two girls lobbed explosives at the colossal monster. It was the signal for the distractions to begin.

  Dactyls poured out of doorways and trapdoors. They struck at the creature’s feet with hammers and mallets. Tree folk leapt from the higher city walls to glide as near to the Mega Hydra as they dared, dropping rocks onto the monster.

  Desstra gazed higher, where a wyvern carried two passengers.

  —

  Sirena clung to her cousin’s broad back. Having spent so long wanting to battle the larger girl, it was strange to be so close to her now. But the disaster they faced was Sirena’s doing, and it was Thianna who would save them.

  The giantess surprised her by passing her the horn.

  “You want me to use this?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said the giantess. “You need to touch it to work it. I don’t. So you take it. But I’ll be using it with you.”

  “How?”

  “Both of our minds. Like when you searched for me. Like when we battled. But don’t fight me, Sirena. We do this together.”

  “Together?”

  “Two cousins. Saving the city.”

  “Two cousins,” Sirena repeated.

  Here we go, said the wyvern.

  “Here we go,” the girls repeated.

  Sirena closed her eyes. She felt Thianna’s mind alongside hers. Instinct
ively she wanted to lash out, to fight. But that wouldn’t work. They had to be united. To put enough shared will into the horn to stand up to the monster. Tentatively, she let her thoughts reach out to her cousin.

  Sirena swayed in the grip of a vision. She saw Thianna, not as she was now but younger. She was playing a ball game against giants twice her size. They bullied her terribly, smashing her face into the ground, but Thianna fought her way to her feet, spitting blood and snow in anger. Refusing to give up. Then Sirena saw a glimpse of the sunset over the snows of Ymiria. It was every bit as beautiful as her cousin claimed. More scenes from Thianna’s memories raced by. There was Karn, battling alongside his enormous friend in country after country. Their bond lent a different kind of strength than any Sirena knew. She saw Thianna’s nobility, her heroism, her bravery. These were qualities she herself was supposed to embody as a Calderan, all present in a barbarian girl. Sirena wanted to hate so badly, but she couldn’t, not from the inside. Reluctantly, like tossing ashes into the sea, Sirena let hate go.

  Their minds snapped together.

  Now, thought Thianna. Let’s give this Mega Hydra the worst headache of its life. Or would that be headsache?

  Whatever works, thought Sirena. To the crows with it.

  —

  The wyvern wove and dodged between the monster’s heads. Smaller than a dragon and nearly as fast, it could wheel and bank in the air in much tighter maneuvers. It carried Thianna and Sirena on a twisting path, while the cousins struck at its mind in blast after blast of the horn.

  In their wake, Orm and Orma dove at the beast. But while most of the Mega Hydra’s heads were focused on the horn, enough remained alert to block the dragons’ attempts to fly in close.

  “It’s not working,” said Desstra, from where she watched on the wall. “It’s not enough.”

  “What do we do?” asked Daphne.

  The elf looked at the creature. What could they do, here on the ground?

  “So many heads,” she said. But then she had a thought. “So many heads. But only one body. If only I had an effective way to poison it.”

  “Look,” called Daphne. “It’s Asterius.”

  The minotaur rode atop a giant scorpion. Behind him they saw Talos the automaton. Several more minotaurs rode in their wake. They swarmed right up the walls to join the elf and dryad on the walkway.

  “Either of you two need a ride?” the bull boy called.

  “We both do,” said Desstra. “Though you may not like where we’re going.”

  “Where is that?” asked Asterius.

  “I’ll tell you in a moment,” said the elf. “But first you tell me, just how much poison do your scorpions’ stingers pack?”

  Asterius grinned.

  “Quite a lot,” he said.

  “Good,” said Desstra. “Because a lot is just what we need.”

  —

  The Mega Hydra’s mind was old, ancient, and angry. Thianna could feel its irritation that so many small creatures dared challenge it. Even Orm and Orma were only minor aggregations in its view. The only thing it really hated was the horn. The horn and anyone using it.

  Her stomach rolled as the wyvern dove suddenly. A noxious purple cloud rolled above them. So far they were dodging the creature’s deadly breath. The winds off the sea prevented the poison gas from hanging for long in the air, but one direct hit would finish them.

  Then one head struck. The wyvern’s tail was caught in the vise of its jaw. As it struggled, another head bit savagely into a wing. The two heads tugged, stretching the shrieking wyvern and threatening to tear it apart like a wishbone. Thianna tumbled from the wyvern’s back, Sirena beside her.

  The frost giant caught onto a wing with one hand. She grabbed her cousin with the other. They dangled in the air as a third head rose before them. The Mega Hydra drew breath, readying a blast of poison that would finish them all, girls and reptile.

  Then suddenly it yelped. Both heads clasping the wyvern let go. The girls dropped, but the wyvern rolled to the side to carry Thianna and Sirena into position atop its back.

  Secure? it asked.

  “Yes,” said Thianna.

  Good.

  “But now I’m really mad.”

  Even better.

  Below them Thianna saw an incredible fight. Led by the minotaur boy and Desstra, giant scorpions had swarmed up the torso of the Mega Hydra. They were now stinging it mercilessly, their wicked tails rising and plunging into the monster’s back. Though its scales were impenetrable, the scorpions were able to thrust their stingers between them, delivering injection after injection of venom. Half the Mega Hydra’s heads turned their way.

  “It’s now or never!” shouted Thianna. “Let’s make this one count.”

  Together she and Sirena poured all of their combined will into blasting the monster’s mind.

  It roared from every mouth at once.

  Then it screamed.

  Orm and Orma were tearing savagely at its necks, severing one after the other. As each dragon bit through the neck of a Hydra head, the other would let loose a blast of flame. The dragon fire, hotter than any other flame in the known world, cauterized the stumps before they could regrow.

  Head after head began to fall. Sickened with venom, the creature swayed on its feet. And Thianna and Sirena whirled around and around it, harrying it with blast after blast of the horn.

  Below, dactyls still smashed at its toes with their hammers. Dryads and drus tossed vines to snare its legs. And what looked like an army of marble statues, led by Karn and Talos, hurled projectiles at its many faces. Above, wyverns with their riders shot blasts of Thican fire, which, if they didn’t wound, certainly added to the monster’s confusion.

  When it was down to less than half its heads, it suddenly turned and began to lurch down the hill toward the harbor.

  “It’s fleeing!” shouted Thianna in joy. “Pour it on!”

  The Mega Hydra half ran, half stumbled down the slope. Reaching the docks, it crashed into the water. As Orm and Orma laughed the terrible laugh of Great Dragons, and Thianna laughed the laugh of frost giants, its few remaining heads dove beneath the waves.

  A huge wake marked the monster’s path as it swam in the direction of the ocean. Then the waters stilled. And whether it had submerged or died, none could say. But one way or another the Mega Hydra was gone. They had won.

  Thianna Frostborn stood before the Twin Palaces. The grounds immediately in front of her were full of reptiles. Hundreds of baby wyverns squawked and cavorted on the grass. They were ringed by their elders, adult wyverns watching the frost giant with cold anticipation to see what she would do.

  Beyond them the various forces that had until recently struggled with each other waited to see as well. Minotaurs, tree folk, Talosians, Calderan soldiers, perioikoi, helots—all waited uncertainly. Only a little while ago they had been at each other’s throats. Now they weren’t certain what their new relationship would be. But the presence of two very large dragons to either side of the palace kept everyone on their best behavior as only dragons can.

  Sirena handed the horn to Thianna.

  “I don’t know what this means for Caldera,” she said. “Only that the horn is yours to do with as you see fit. You earned it in ways I never could.”

  Thianna nodded at her cousin. The former Keras Keeper surely thought this was the end of her city. But endings could be new beginnings.

  Thianna raised the Horn of Osius to her lips and began a song. Only the reptiles present could hear it, but everyone stood silent.

  As she played, she unwove the magic of the horn, like pulling apart a tapestry and seeing it unravel. She felt the terrible desire to force one’s will on another being, and she rejected it.

  Thianna played a song of freedom. And in her mind, she thought to the wyverns: You are released! You are let go! Never to be compelled, never to be ridden again!

  Around her the wyverns began to hiss. It was soft at first, then gained in volume. The hissing
rose and fell with her invisible music. They were singing. And unlike the music of the horn, everyone could hear. It was beautiful.

  Thianna felt the knots of obedience in the reptiles’ minds dissolve away.

  “You’re free,” she said.

  A shadow fell across Thianna.

  “Is it fair to assume that you are done now?” rumbled a deep voice. The Great Dragon Orm loomed over her, twitched his wings in irritation.

  “I’m done,” said Thianna.

  “Then give it here.”

  Thianna drew back her arm, preparing to toss the horn like she’d toss a knattleikr ball. Orm leaned forward in anticipation. Then she spun and tossed the horn the other way, to where Orm’s sister waited.

  Orma opened her mouth and blew a concentrated blast of flame. When it stopped, the horn was gone.

  “What have you done?” roared Orm.

  “You’ve already eaten one,” said Thianna.

  “Its power fades as I digest it,” he replied.

  “You wanted it destroyed, it’s destroyed,” said the frost giant. “You don’t need power over the wyverns any more than the Sky Queen did. Now nobody gets it, and you don’t have to worry about anyone using it on you ever again. On either of you.”

  Orm turned to Orma.

  “You aided her in this. You and the girl dared trick the Doom of Sardeth?”

  “Doom of Sardeth?” snorted Orma. “That was a long time ago. Now that I’m back, we can straighten you out. You’re not just the Doom of Sardeth anymore. You’re the Defender of Caldera.”

  “Nonsense,” said the Great Dragon.

  “You saved a city, brother,” his sister replied. “Everyone here owes you their life. Maybe this could be the turning over of a new leaf for you.”

  “Hmm…,” rumbled the dragon. “It has been a few centuries since I’ve added new titles to my name.”

  “Hard to do when you stay shut up in a ruin.”

  “Orm, the Great Dragon, Largest of Linnorms, Doom of Sardeth…Defender of Caldera.” He smiled, showing off all his wicked teeth. “I like the taste of that on the tongue. But do you suppose we could add Bane of Mega Hydras?”