It swung its club at her as she dodged an attack by a third skeletal giant. Her falcata whirled and flew, hacking shins. Flakes of bone flew from its legs, each blow from her blade carving new notches. Kale yanked his dagger out of the skeleton’s skull, and the skeleton spun. Kale felt himself slip and spread his wings. He fell off the skeleton’s shoulders and twisted, gliding in an arc around its head as he breathed fire.
The giant’s head erupted in crimson flames. The bone turned black as it burned, but the undead giant continued attacking the area underneath itself, trying to smash the small, annoying creatures below.
Delilah conjured a magical ball of fire and hurled it at another giant, engulfing it. It, too, pressed the attack and ignored the flames that charred its bones.
“Great, now we’re fighting flaming giant skeletons!” Kale landed next to his sister. Katka slid across the floor after dodging a blow from a giant’s club.
She rolled to her feet, pointing her wand at it. “K’teep’ma tis astrapis!” A bolt of lightning shot forth, coursing through the skeleton.
“Nothing is working!” The human grunted as a swing of the giant’s club caught her arm and sent her spinning. She collapsed onto the floor, cradling her arm.
“The king! Get the king!” Delilah pulled her brother’s arm and spun him, pointing him toward Ragnok.
The elderly giant grinned, his crooked, rotting, yellow teeth visible behind the sea of white covering his head and face. Kale ducked under the legs of one of the skeletons, drawing another dagger as he ran. He stopped and threw both of them toward the giant king.
Kale’s blades sank into his chest. The king’s hands snapped up, clutching at the protruding hilts. His grin faded as he wheezed, flecks of blood coloring his lips.
A burnt-orange flash passed him as Kali rushed toward the king with her sword raised. She cried out and swung, sinking the blade into his leg. He grimaced and swatted at her, knocking her aside.
From the corner his eye, he saw Katka point her wand at the king and loose another bolt of lightning. It struck his temple, snapping back his head. Arcs of electricity danced across his features as he screamed.
Kale felt the whoosh of air and dove forward a split second before one of the skeleton’s clubs came crashing down. He felt it brush his heels and tucked into a roll that brought him to the base of the throne’s dais. When he came to his feet, he unleashed a gout of flame at the giant king.
The king’s robe and beard erupted in flames. His screams rose in pitch as he burned. Kale felt the ground rumble and turned to search for his sister.
Delilah darted back and forth, avoiding the blows of the giant skeletons whose attention she held, weaving her staff in an intricate pattern. Kale heard her chanting. Pebbles and dust fell from the ceiling in a steady rain.
Spikes of stone burst from the floor. One upended a skeleton, sending it falling toward Kale. He ran toward Kali and spread his wings to protect them as he crouched over her. The giant hit the dais, cracking ribs on impact. Its head popped off its neck, crashing into the lap of the giant king. Both tumbled to the floor, the latter still on fire.
Another spike impaled one of the giant skeletons, splitting it and sending chunks of bone flying. More dirt and rocks fell from the ceiling, and Kale pulled his wings closer, hugging Kali nearer to him.
The screams of the burning giant king subsided, and the rumbling earth slowed and stopped. When the dust cleared, Kale dared to pull back his wings and open one eye.
Delilah climbed on top of a pile of rocks and bones. When she reached the top, she offered a helping hand to Katka as the human girl joined her.
Kali pushed Kale off her. “Tinian himself would have a hard time topping that!”
The corpse of the giant king smoldered, his head smashed by a block of stone from the ceiling. Shards of giant skeletons littered the chamber as leaves clutter the forest floor. Everyone and everything was covered in a layer of dust and caked with blood.
Delilah peered at her brother from the top of the pile. “Well, that worked.”
“I don’t think our negotiations were successful, Deli.”
Chapter 24
“He didn’t even give us a chance to negotiate. What’s going on, Delilah?” Katka picked her way down the side of the pile of bones and rocks. She leaned on the drak sorceress for support, keeping her broken arm tight against her stomach.
“Something’s not right.” Delilah rubbed the back of her neck, picking flakes of stone from her scales. “I’m sure someone would have told me if these giants were being ruled by a lunatic with monstrous skeletons.”
“He certainly seems like the type who would want to attack Muncifer instead of trade. But why now? What changed this year?” Katka hopped down to the floor and rubbed her arm.
Delilah had an idea about that. “The archduke said something about some tremors this past spring, during the archmage’s visit with the giants.”
Katka shook her head, wincing in pain as she touched her wounded arm. “I don’t know anything about that. There were some tremors, yes, but they happen every couple of years.”
“Did he think the archmage caused the tremors?” Kale struggled to roll the giant king’s charred body over. Kali crouched down to help him.
“They accused each other of all sorts of things, but he said he didn’t know any earth magic.” Delilah considered that the archmage may have lied.
“Earth magic is unheard of at the Arcane University.” Katka pulled out her wand and levitated the giant king’s body enough for the draks to shove it out of the way. Kale retrieved his daggers, wiping them clean on an unburnt remnant of the king’s clothes.
“In fact, they teach us in History of the Arcane Arts that earth and water magic was lost during The Sundering. I’ve never seen anyone do what you just did, Delilah.”
“Deli’s always surprising people.” Kale put his arm around his mate.
“I learned it from Gil-Li’s grimoire.”
“Gil-Li?” Katka’s jaw dropped. “The drak archmage? That book you have was hers?”
Delilah rubbed her snout. “Yes. Terrakaptis gave it to me.”
Katka’s eyes grew wide, and she stepped backward until she stumbled and fell onto the dais. She steadied herself with her good hand and stared at Delilah. “Does the archmage know you have it?”
“No.” Delilah scoffed at the thought. She knew better than to tell Archmage Vilkan anything about any of her prized possessions. “Are you going to tell him?”
Katka huffed. “Certainly not! You’re my friend. He’s an oaf! You should know better than that!”
Kali cleared her throat. “These magic lessons are probably fascinating, but we shouldn’t linger.”
“You’re right. Sorry, Kali.” Delilah smiled when she realized she didn’t feel a twinge of irritation admitting her brother’s mate was right. She produced a light from her staff and stepped to the back of the room, near the dais. The wall loomed over her, the ceiling far out of range of her staff’s light.
The others followed behind her as she traced along the edges of the room, seeking a passageway or some exit apart from the one through which they entered.
“Here, here!” Katka found the passage they sought, a crumbling tunnel which, to the giants, probably resembled a mouse hole.
Delilah saw a faint orange glow at the far end of the tunnel. The odor of brimstone was strong. She extinguished her light and followed the winding path, careful to avoid loose rocks. The ceiling was low enough for her to touch with an outstretched hand, and some narrow passages required Katka to crouch to squeeze through.
“Where ever this goes, Deli, is not a place the giants visit.”
“Thanks, Kale. I figured that out for myself.” As soon as she said it, Delilah realized her words were harsh and unfair. Her stomach growled, and her muscles ached from dodging the attacks of the giant skeletons.
The glow grew ever brighter as they descended into the tunnel. Delilah sensed they traveled de
eper and deeper, and the odor of decay overlaid that of brimstone. The stench grew stronger the closer they approached the end of it.
“Oh, that’s rank.” Kale waved his hand in front of his nose as they stepped out of the tunnel into a vast cavern. A chasm split the cavern in two, with a river of lava at the bottom providing a hellish glow that illuminated even the ceiling far above. The radiant glow was aided by drak-sized crystals protruding in every direction from the walls and ceiling.
Delilah felt like she’d stepped into the middle of a giant geode. Many draks kept fist-sized geodes as decorations in their homes in Drak-Anor, but she doubted any of them imagined seeing one the size of a small village, much less standing inside one. She took a moment to absorb it all: the way the vermilion light from the magma reflected in the faces of the crystals, the echoes of her friends’ footsteps as they found secure footing inside, and the distortion caused by the rising heat from the lava river.
Through the heat distortion, Delilah saw a sinuous, elongated shape lying on the opposite side of the chasm. Using her staff for support, she climbed down the smooth crystalline faces, making her way to the crack in the geode’s floor. Multiple reflections from the crystals surrounding the shape, distorted by rising heat, made it impossible to clearly identify it.
When she reached the edge, Delilah teetered for a moment and then stepped back. The shape was reptilian, covered in cracked, black scales. It wound around crystal formations as large as houses, obscured by crystalline pillars and clusters.
Kale landed next to her, flapping his wings for stability. “Is that Pyraclannaseous?”
“It looks like a dragon, doesn’t it?” Delilah squinted, hoping to see more clearly through the sulfurous haze rising from the chasm. “It’s not moving though.”
The haze and the heat shimmer made it difficult to determine if the dragon was motionless or merely sleeping. She watched its limbs for a moment to see if they twitched. Her breath caught as she heard the squeak of leather on the crystal behind her.
“What is that?” Katka helped Kali climb down to the large crystal on which they now all stood.
“Let’s have a look, Deli.”
As she cried out in protest, Kale grabbed Delilah under her arms and pushed off the crystal. For a dizzying moment, Delilah saw nothing below her except a river of lava and then felt an updraft catch in Kale’s outstretched wings. The heat from below felt as if it would roast the scales off her body, and for a moment, she couldn’t feel her brother’s hands under her arms. She drew a ragged breath and clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. The updraft lifted them over the chasm, and the two draks landed next to the unmoving tail.
Katka and Kali seemed so far away as they stood on the other side of the chasm. After catching her breath, Delilah waved at them. “Stay there! We won’t be long.”
The reply from Kali was faint, but clear. “Be careful!”
Delilah jammed an elbow into her brother’s ribs. “Hear that? Your mate says ‘be careful.’ That means no more jumping over lava without warning, got it?”
“I knew the updraft would carry me over, Deli.” Kale jumped and grabbed a crystal ledge, pulled himself up, and then offered his sister a hand.
“But both of us?”
Kale’s silence as they climbed was telling. Delilah chose to let the matter drop, since they were both alive and well for the moment. As they worked their way through the crystals, following the dragon’s body, she was struck by how emaciated it was. The stench of decay grew stronger as they covered its length, and after climbing up on a monolithic crystal, she saw why: a massive crystal lay shattered amongst the ruined remnants of the dragon’s head.
Blood stained nearby crystals. Ragged flesh was blackened and shriveled. Long exposure to the heat of the lava dried and withered the flesh and exposed tissue.
Kale took his sister’s hand as the draks surveyed the grim scene. Pyraclannaseous, the Fire Dragon, was dead.
* * *
Unlike other cities Pancras visited, no walls, guard towers, or fortifications guarded Cliffport’s entrance. Only the Copper Run River itself formed any sort of barrier between Cliffport and the surrounding lands. The arched, stone bridge that crossed the river served to funnel travelers into the city. Even on the far side, enough shops and stables surrounded the road, that Pancras wasn’t sure where the official city boundary lay.
Qaliah patted Comet’s neck as she dismounted. “I hope you’re not thinking we’ll need to sell our horses to get on a ship.”
Stormheart whinnied as if in protest to the idea of being sold. Pancras swung his leg over the horse’s neck and slid from his saddle. “Hopefully that won’t be necessary.”
“It will cost more to find a ship willing to accommodate them.” Gisella remained mounted, sitting high in her saddle and gazing at the surrounding buildings. An ox-pulled wagon passed them, the bells around the oxen’s neck ringing in time with its steps as the wheels of the wagon clattered on the cobblestones.
Pancras led Stormheart across the bridge by his reins. “I think we should head to the port first. Perhaps the tides are rising, and we can board a ship sooner, rather than later.”
“It can’t hurt to investigate, I suppose.” Gisella dismounted Moonsilver when they reached the far side of the bridge. The road led them to a square and then turned to follow the river. Cliffport was built on the downslope of the granite cliffs which flanked the river. The Copper Run plunged through the middle of the city into the back of the harbor. A series of carved steps and lifts scaled the final hundred feet from the edge of the city down to the Docks District.
The streets of Cliffport were less congested and straighter than those of Muncifer and Almeria. Pancras found it easy to maintain his bearings as they made their way through the Market District, through several residential districts, and to the Trade District, which reached to the very edge of the cliffs.
Apart from a few taverns, most of the buildings in the Trade District functioned as warehouses and stored the various goods arriving by sea or waiting to depart by sea. Some operated lifts by which travelers could lower their mounts to the docks for a few coins.
The view overlooking the harbor was breathtaking. Gulls flew at the end of the docks, squawking at anyone who came too close. Twin promontories surrounded the harbor, offshoots of the cliffs upon which the city was built. Moored ships bobbed like corks in a basin, and a stark white arch spanned the harbor entrance from the end of each promontory.
The three companions dismounted before leading their horses onto the lift.
“Nethun’s Arch.” Gisella rubbed Moonsilver’s nose as she appreciated the surroundings with Pancras. “The Archway to Andelosia.”
“Or the exit.” Qaliah stood with her arms wrapped around Comet’s neck, standing as far away from the edge of the lift as possible. A gust of wind rocked the platform, and she gasped, burying her face in her horse’s neck.
Pancras steadied himself with a hand on Stormheart’s withers. He’d never seen the sea before. Beyond the arch, a vast expanse of brownish-green water awaited. Dark clouds touched the ocean on the horizon, a wall to meet the edge of the world.
“They say the sea is cold. Capricious. Unforgiving. It’s difficult to comprehend the extent of the thing.” The minotaur shivered, though the breeze was warm. He inhaled the salt air, wrinkling his nose at the stench of dead fish wafting up from the docks.
“Who says that?” Qaliah’s voice was muffled by her horse’s mane.
“Sailors I’ve met.”
The archway disappeared as the lift passed behind some warehouses. Pancras stumbled as the platform jerked to a halt. A grubby man with a bandana tied around his head opened the gate. “Get a move on. We’ve cargo to lift.”
Pancras, Gisella, and Qaliah led their horses onto the docks. Unlike the stone streets of the upper city, the Docks District was built entirely upon the silty shore at the bottom of the cliffs. Supported by thick wooden beams, the streets were little more than
wood planks set atop the silt or boarded walkways constructed over the shallow tide pools.
“We should find the harbormaster’s office.” Gisella stopped at an intersection to allow a team of sailors pushing a cart laden with crab baskets to pass. “They should have a listing of ships and departures.”
“What’s that building over there?” Qaliah pointed toward a square tower rising above the warehouses near the piers.
“Probably the harbormaster’s office.” Gisella squeezed Qaliah’s arm as she passed. The clopping of their horses hooves on the wooden planks joined the cacophony of commerce on the docks, making conversation nearly impossible as they walked.
A mixed group of sailors and laborers leaned against the wall in a line, complaining about the humid air, their back-breaking labor, and poor pay. Their eyes followed the three travelers as they stepped toward the entrance.
Gisella took Stormheart’s reins. “I’ll watch the horses with Qaliah. Leaving her out here alone doesn’t seem safe.”
“I can handle myself.” The fiendling grabbed the reins from Gisella, but the human woman refused to relinquish her grip.
“Indeed you can, but we don’t have time to deal with magistrates and misunderstandings. There’s safety in numbers here.”
Pancras pulled his hammer off his saddle. “I’ll be fast.”
The harbormaster’s office sat perched atop a staircase that zig-zagged up the center of the warehouse. The harbormaster himself was a grey-furred minotaur with upswept, black-flecked, tawny horns. He sat behind a stained, cracked desk and wiped a glistening nose on his sleeve as Pancras entered.
“Looking for work? That’s the line outside. Got a complaint? Not my problem.” His voice was as salty as the air.
“Seeking a ship to take us and our horses to Vlorey, as a matter of fact. Myself, a human, and a fiendling.” He shook his money pouch. “A good, comfortable ship.”
The harbormaster reached under desk to scratch himself. “There aren’t any ships for just passengers. What can you do?”
Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) Page 36
