Song of Dragons: The Complete Trilogy

by Daniel Arenson

  Somebody squeezed her hand, and she heard Mother's voice.

  "Wake up, Agnus Dei. Open your eyes. It's not yet your time to leave me."

  But my eyes are open, she thought. I can see beauty and light.

  Yet she managed to open them again. New light shone. She gasped, and cold air filled her lungs, scented of mountains. Nehushtan seemed to smile at her, teeth glinting, moustache fluttering. His golden scales chinked and glimmered as he floated. Behind him, thousands of other salvanae hovered in the sky, their long bodies undulating like snakes in water.

  "Mother?" she whispered. She looked to her right and saw Mother sitting there, the salvanae's light against her face. Kyrie and Gloriae sat there too, their eyes soft.

  "Agnus Dei." Mother kissed her forehead and caressed her cheek. "How do you feel?"

  She blinked. "I feel better. I... am I dreaming? I see the true dragons, Mother. Thousands of them. Are we in Salvandos?"

  "You are in Requiem still," said Nehushtan, his voice like crinkling old paper and the wind in pines. "We saw the strands in our stars, and sang to them, and heard your prayers sing with ours. So we flew here, daughter of Draco, and we will help you again. We sang too for your healing."

  Agnus Dei gasped and raised her left arm. For an instant, she hoped to see her hand regrown. That hope crashed. Her arm still ended with a stump, though the wound was healed. Instead of infected stitches, she saw pale, smooth skin.

  "Thank you," she said softly, though she could not feel joy. She felt, instead, only shame. Her wound was healed, but her arm looked strange to her, deformed. Tears stung her eyes. She was still crippled. Impure. Ugly.

  Agnus Dei looked at Kyrie, her pup. Does he think I'm a freak now? A gruesome cripple? Will he still love me? Or will he leave me for Gloriae, who is whole and still beautiful? Suddenly she wished he'd look away. She wanted to hide her arm, to never show it to anyone again. She lowered her eyes.

  "Oh, pup," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

  He shifted closer. "Sorry for what?"

  That I'm like this, she wanted to say. That I'll be forever different. But she could not bring those words to her lips. Instead, she looked up at him, her pup, her love, her best friend, and she said, "I love you."

  His eyes softened, and he scooped her into his arms, and kissed her. His hands held her head, and she placed her good hand on his back. They kissed in the light of the true dragons, and tears flowed down her face.

  "I love you too," he said, holding her. "I'll always love you, Agnus Dei."

  Laughter burst from her lips, surprising her. She pinched his cheek. "You really are a pup, do you know that?"

  She looked over his shoulder at the mountains and valleys of Requiem. The snow was melting. Winter would soon end. Beams of dawn fell between the thousands of salvanae. War would come here, Agnus Dei knew. Dies Irae would march into these lands with all his might and malice. But that is tomorrow, she thought. Today... today life is beautiful.

  Gloriae leaned down, kissed her cheek, and smiled. Mother held her good hand. They sat on the mountainside, embracing one another, watching the sunrise.

  TERRA

  When he saw the army in the distance, he felt the blood leave his face.

  "Stars," he whispered. "Down, Memoria!"

  They dived, landed on a snowy mountainside, and shifted into humans. Wind moaned, flurrying snow around them, sneaking under his armor like the fingers of ghosts.

  "There are thousands," Memoria said, gasping. "A hundred thousand."

  Terra narrowed his eyes. It was hard to see from here. The army moved leagues away, a black stain upon the ruins of Requiem, oozing forward. He could hear faded roars and battle cries, a sound like an angry sea. Creatures flew over the army, thousands of them, like murders of crows. They were too distant to see clearly, but they had to be massive, the size of dragons.

  He scowled. "This army was mustered to kill the last Vir Requis."

  Memoria clutched the hilt of her sword, as if that sword could defeat such an army. "To kill Agnus Dei, and to kill Kyrie," she said.

  Terra stared at this spreading black puddle, his stomach twisting. He was no stranger to war. He was a bellator, a knight of Requiem. He had fought griffins at Draco Murus, the Poisoned in Requiem's tunnels, the giants of the north. But this.... Terra had never seen forces that chilled him so. Strange things moved there. He saw the shapes of great beasts towering over smaller troops, and he saw stars and lightning crackle between the creatures that flew. This army marched with dark magic.

  "They move slowly," he said. "We fly fast. Let's find Kyrie."

  Memoria nodded. "The ruins of Requiem's palace. King's Column. So long as Vir Requis live, that column will stand." Her eyes dampened. "I know Kyrie. He's there."

  If he's alive, Terra thought, but said nothing. Memoria believed. Let her cling to hope while she can. Hope might be all we've got.

  "Let's fly," Memoria said. "I remember the way. Follow m—"

  Before she could finish her sentence, a distant shriek rose. Terra cursed. A dozen flying beasts, the size of specks from here, disengaged from the army and came flying toward them.

  "They saw us," he said. "Damn it. Let's fly!"

  He shifted into a dragon, roared fire, and soared. Memoria flew beside him, snow flurrying around her green scales. They flew west, the clouds streaming around them, the snow slapping their faces. The mountaintops rose around them. When Terra looked over his shoulder, he saw his pursuers gaining on them.

  "Those things are fast," he said.

  "So are we. Fly, Terra!"

  He narrowed his body, flapped his wings mightily, and shot forward through the wind and snow. He growled and fire filled his mouth. He looked behind him again and cursed.

  "Damn it! They're gaining on us. What are they?"

  Jaw clenched, Memoria looked over her shoulder, and her eyes narrowed.

  "They look... they look like dragons," she said.

  Terra shook his head. "No. Not dragons. But whatever they are, there are six of them, and two of us. Fly higher. We'll lose them in the clouds."

  They soared and crashed into the snow clouds. Wind, ice, and snow stung Terra's eyes. He lowered his head and narrowed his eyes to slits, pushing himself forward. He couldn't see ten feet around him.

  "Memoria, are you with me?" he shouted.

  Her voice came from the clouds to his left. "Right beside you. Fly against the wind; it'll take us to the ruins of the palace."

  And maybe slow down those creatures following us, he thought. He kept flying, driving through the clouds, and heard the screeches behind him. They were closer.

  "They're fast bastards," he said.

  Green scales flashed beside him between strands of clouds. "What the stars are those things? They were leagues away only moments ago."

  Terra grunted. "Friends of Dies Irae."

  The siblings kept flying, driving through the storm until the clouds parted. They found themselves over valleys of toppled ruins and fallen trees. Marble columns, each a hundred feet long, lay fallen like so many sticks below them. Snow dappled the ruins like patches of leprosy. The cries sounded again behind them, like the sound of butchered elephant seals. When Terra turned his head, he saw the creatures emerge from the clouds, only five hundred yards away.

  "Bloody stars," he muttered. Beside him, Memoria gasped.

  They were dragons, or at least, shaped as such. They were sewn together from the dead. Men's bodies, trussed up like hams, formed their necks. Their wings seemed made of human bones and skin. Their tails, their bodies, their limbs, their heads; all were patched from body parts, sewn together, rotting and wormy. They opened their maws and squealed.

  Mimic dragons. Lovely.

  He felt the Animating Stones; their curse slammed against him, tugging at his magic. Memoria grimaced; she felt it too.

  Around their necks, Adoria's Hands opened.

  The mimic dragons shrieked and flew at them, claws extended.

  Ter
ra and Memoria blew their fire.

  The streams of flame roared, crackled, and hit two mimic dragons. They screamed and burned, their skin peeling, their flesh blistering. The four others flew around them, lightning fast, and blazed toward Terra and Memoria.

  Terra had no time to muster more fire. The things moved so fast, he could barely see them. Two crashed into him, their claws—they seemed made of sharpened femurs—lashing at him.

  Those claws scratched his side. He growled and bit. His teeth sank into soft, rotten flesh. It tore free easily, filling his mouth with juices and dead flies. The taste made him gag. He spat and clawed, hitting the beast's head.

  It growled and bit, and its teeth broke several of Terra's scales. Roaring, Terra flapped his wings, kicked, and pushed himself back. He swiped his tail, hit the creature's head, and blew fire.

  The mimic dragon burned. Its skin peeled back as it screamed. Its stitches melted. The bodies composing it came loose and began falling from the sky—men, women, children, pale and rubbery.

  "Terra!" his sister cried.

  He growled and flew toward her. Three mimic dragons surrounded her, scratching. Terra roasted one and swung his tail at another. Before it could recover, he swiped his claws, bit, and tore its head off. Memoria burned the last mimic dragon, and it fell to the ruins below, coming apart into two dozen bodies.

  "That was easy," Terra muttered, rubbing a wound at his side.

  Memoria growled. "I hear more."

  Terra heard them too. It sounded like hundreds were flying in the clouds, moving closer. Once they emerge from the clouds, they'll see us.

  "To the ground," Terra said and began to dive. "We continue on foot, as humans."

  They dived, the air whistling around them, the snow stinging them. The clouds growled and the mimics screamed in the distance. They landed by a fallen tower, shifted into humans, and crawled under the ruins.

  "Damn," Memoria whispered, peeking through the ruins to the sky. Snow filled her hair and kissed her cheeks pink.

  Terra grumbled. A hundred mimic dragons emerged from the clouds above, squealing. Their wings creaked and roiled the snow. How are we to defeat so many, even with Adoria's Hands?

  Memoria clasped his hand. "Do you think... do you think these things found Kyrie?"

  Terra shook his head. "If Kyrie survived this long, he's good at hiding, at fighting, at living. If he's alive, we'll find him." Terra... I found him. He grabbed his sword. "We'll look in the west. We'll look at King's Column."

  The mimics above shrieked and flew over them, soon disappearing into the distance. Terra and Memoria hid for long moments, shivering in the cold. Finally they crawled out of hiding and began to walk. Their feet ached, their teeth chattered, and their limbs were weak with hunger and wounds.

  When Terra looked behind him, he saw that black puddle oozing over the horizon. He cursed and quickened his step.

  KYRIE ELEISON

  He walked through King's Forest, holding Agnus Dei's hand. The snow glided around them.

  "Oh, pup," Agnus Dei said, head lowered. "This place feels so sad, doesn't it?"

  The trees were fallen now, burned and toppled years ago. It seemed to Kyrie like all the horrors of the world had been born here.

  Twenty years ago, Dies Irae raped Lacrimosa here. Four years later, he stole the griffins here, and toppled these columns. Five years after that, Requiem's survivors gathered in this place, and marched to Lanburg Fields. Kyrie sighed. And now... does Requiem fall here now?

  Kyrie raised his eyes and looked at King's Column. It rose in the distance from the ruins, two hundred feet tall, its marble bright. Salvanae coiled above and around it, bugling their song.

  "It is sad," he said, "but look, Agnus Dei. New dragons fly here now. And we're still here. We still fight. We can win this war."

  Agnus Dei raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes seemed so large to Kyrie, pools of sadness.

  "I'm so afraid," she said. "I lost Father. And... at the camp, when...." She swallowed and hid her left arm. "It feels like somebody else died. I grieve for my hand, the same way I grieve for Father. Is that strange, Kyrie?"

  He shook his head, touched her cheek, and kissed her forehead. "It's not strange."

  She lowered her eyes, her eyelashes brushing his cheek. "I'm so scared of more loss. Of you dying, or Gloriae, or Mother. Kyrie, I... I want to be brave again. I want to growl and shout for battle. But I can't feel that way anymore."

  He nodded. "You're growing older and wiser." He tapped her head. "Maybe soon you'll be as wise as me."

  Normally she would punch him, wrestle him, and pull his hair for such a taunt. Today she did not even smile. She sighed and he held her, his arms around her. She held him with her good hand, but kept her left arm hidden behind her back.

  "Oh, pup, I can't even hug you properly now."

  "You can."

  She shook her head, and Kyrie felt her tears on his cheek. She trembled.

  "Kyrie, I'm ashamed. I'm sorry. I don't even like holding you now. I don't like when you hold me." Her voice shook. "I used to like you looking at me. It made me feel funny and good. I wanted to be beautiful for you, as beautiful as Gloriae. But I can't now. Not without my hand, with this arm that... that just ends with a stump. It looks so ugly to me. I hate it. I'm ugly now, and I'm so embarrassed whenever you look at me. I'm so sorry that I'm like this for you."

  He laughed softly, and she stiffened. She pulled back an inch, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

  "Why do you laugh at me?" she asked.

  He caressed her cheek. "Agnus Dei. You have the largest, most beautiful eyes I've seen, with the longest lashes. You have the softest, bounciest, curliest hair I've seen, like lamb's fleece. And most importantly, you are good, and brave, and kind. You are beautiful, Agnus Dei. You are the most beautiful woman I know, inside and out, and you will always be beautiful to me. No matter what. I will always think this, and I will always love you." He held her hand tight. "If you ever doubt it, I'll beat you up."

  She sighed again, lowered her head, then raised her eyes. A soft smile touched her lips. "Oh pup, you're such a poet, do you know? Not a very good one, but an earnest one." She touched his cheek. "And you know that you can't beat me up. I can still beat you in a fight, even with one hand."

  She kissed his lips. They held each other, kissing deeply, the salvanae coiling and singing above.

  "Come with me," he said. They walked through the forest, and found a hollow between three fallen columns. He lay down his cloak, and they sat upon it, holding each other. They pulled her cloak above them and huddled for warmth. He kissed her lips, her ear, her neck. She moaned and dug her fingers into his back.

  They undressed each other, trembling with cold, goose bumps rising across them. His lips moved down her neck, and he kissed her breasts, then pulled her atop him. She sat in his lap, and tossed back her head, so that her mane of curls cascaded to his knees. She wrapped both arms around him, her eyes closed.

  Soon Kyrie was no longer cold. He remembered the first time he made love to Agnus Dei, in the summer on the border with Salvandos. It seemed so long ago. Back then, Agnus Dei had confused him, taunted him, teased him, seemed so much older and mysterious and intoxicating. Today she was more to him: a kind, brave, sensitive woman he loved, a woman he wanted to be with forever. They kissed and swayed in the cold, their furs draped over them.

  They were walking back to King's Column, hand in hand, when they heard shrieks and thudding wings above.

  Agnus Dei's eyes widened. "Griffins! The griffins are here!"

  Kyrie looked up, shielding his eyes with his hand. He gasped. Thousands of griffins flew above, snow clinging to their fur, their eyes bright. Volucris flew at their lead, King of Leonis, Dies Irae's old mount. Rays of sun fell between them, and their shrieks seemed to shake the world.

  "They too have seen our stars," Kyrie whispered. "They too have come to fight." He squeezed Agnus Dei's hand.

  She nodded. "The gr
eat battle of our generation will be fought here, I think. All the nations of the world gather. To fight Dies Irae. To fight darkness." She swallowed, tears in her eyes. "Salvandos, Leonis, Requiem... we join together to fight for life. This war is not only about us anymore, Kyrie. Irae's evil has crawled to all corners of the world, I think... and the world is fighting back."

  The griffins began to land in the forest. They stood atop the fallen columns, the smashed walls, the shattered mosaics that lay buried in snow. Kyrie passed by one, a golden female with yellow eyes, and placed his hand against her fur. She cawed and tilted her head at him.

  He kept walking with Agnus Dei and approached King's Column. It rose before him, its capital glimmering in the sun like a beacon. Lacrimosa and Gloriae stood below the column, wrapped in cloaks, talking in hushed tones.

  A man and woman stood by them, speaking with them. Kyrie frowned. Something about these strangers made him freeze.

  The two strangers had not seen him yet. The woman was short, slim, and fair-haired. She wore furs and bore a sword in the style of Requiem blades. Tall and broad, the man bore a similar sword, and wore plate armor and a horned helm. His face was haggard, sporting a walrus moustache like Kyrie remembered his father wearing.

  "Who are they?" Agnus Dei whispered, eyes narrowed.

  "I... I don't know," Kyrie said, but somehow he did know, or used to. He knew these people. He knew that the man had a deep laugh. He knew that the woman had brown doe eyes, though he could not see them.

  "Kyrie!" Agnus Dei said. "Your hand is trembling."

  He wanted to walk forward, but could not. His insides roiled. He saw a vineyard, not far from here, kissed with sunlight and humming with dragonflies. He saw a mosaic floor, dragons and dolphins and griffins all twinkling with thousands of stones. He saw a balcony, and tasted wine, and he saw these people; he knew them, he loved them.

  Lacrimosa saw him first. She looked toward him from King's Column, and her eyes softened. Gloriae looked at him too, and then—slowly, almost hesitantly—the two strangers turned to face him.