Moroda

by L. L. McNeil

  Lurching into motion, Amarah followed Anahrik’s descent, tucking Khanna’s sails tightly against the side of the ship as she started the race with an almost vertical nose-forward drop.

  As Khanna began to build speed, Sapora gripped the sides of the ship, digging his claws into the wood to stop himself sliding towards the nose. ‘Amarah, you will crash!’ he called angrily.

  Amarah disregarded Sapora’s protests. She had dug her heels into the rough wooden floor and braced for the speed and angle of descent. Her eyes were solidly fixed on the grey falcon as he gained more and more speed in the dive, distancing himself from Khanna.

  ‘Perhaps you are quicker in a dive, but there’s more to go than that,’ she growled to herself, pulling back on the wheel to lift the nose, fanning her side sails out and backwards to give the ship extra lift as her trajectory flattened out. She careened across the arena, over the city walls, and out into the darkening fields surrounding the city. She would reach the two league marker in a few moments, just behind Anahrik, but with enough of the course left, she felt confident she would be able to overtake and stretch out a lead in the twists and turns, where Khanna’s speed was truly apparent.

  *

  Moroda and Eryn strolled down the emptying streets, enjoying the cool early evening air. Moroda had finally believed her sister’s words that Morgen would not find them, and after spending most of the afternoon hidden in the tavern, it was wonderful to enjoy the outside again, particularly with the weather so fine.

  ‘I thought the races were all over,’ Eryn mused, glancing up as they saw a small airship descending with a speed the likes of which they had not seen before in the races.

  Moroda narrowed her eyes as she watched the dark ship’s flight. ‘Hmm, doesn’t that say Khanna on the side?’ She watched, eager. ‘Oh, dragons above, that’s Amarah’s ship!’ she gasped, remembering where she recognised the name from.

  ‘That woman you were in the cell with?’ Eryn echoed, astounded. ‘That’s quite some ship, look at the speed of it!

  But…who is she racing? I don’t see her opponent?’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps they’re too far ahead to see. It’s getting too dark…but I want to find out. Come on, this way, let’s see if we can get a better view from the top of there.’ She pointed to a marble fountain carved in the shape of a dragon at the top of a small hill at the end of the street, cold water spouting from its open jaws and the tip of its tail. ‘Come on,’ she said, sprinting over the cobblestones, past closed shops and stalls, trying to reach the vantage point quickly enough to watch the rest of the race.

  *

  Anahrik, too, had stopped his descent, and was now flying straight over the city walls, the marker in his sights. The world around him dimmed to almost black; only his goal was at the centre of his vision as it rushed towards him with every beat of his wings. He loved nothing more than speed, to outfly anything that tried to chase him, but Khanna was right on his tail, and he could not afford to turn his head to see how close she really was. It appeared that her boastfulness held some water, much to the Ittallan’s annoyance.

  ‘I don’t see how…your ship can be faster than a falcon. An Ittallan falcon,’ Sapora hissed, having slowly made his way along deck to where Amarah piloted the ship. The wind was chilling at these speeds, and he did not enjoy the coldness at all.

  ‘Quiet, I’m bringing this pig’s ego down a few notches. I might do the same to you, snake,’ Amarah replied, her eyes only on the marker as she turned hard and deployed one of her side wing sails to make the turning angle more acute. Snapping back the power and opening the sails on the opposite side to hastily straighten out, Amarah pushed all four engines to full power. Swooping round the torch-lit marker, she levelled out Khanna and increased her speed as her circuit around the city began.

  Her first, immediate obstacle was the great forest which surrounded Niversai. Huge conifers erupted from the canopy of younger trees, causing her to veer sharply left and right to avoid them, while still maintaining her slight left curve to follow the high stone wall marking Niversai’s outer limits. Speed and manoeuvrability were her ship’s strengths; the more twisty the course, the faster she could go.

  In the darkness of the trees she lost sight of Anahrik, as the falcon avoided the branches, only glimpsing a flash of grey every so often as he appeared in the shadows. If he were alone, Amarah wouldn’t think twice about shooting him down, but she didn’t want to risk it with Palom somewhere close by.

  But the violent turns shook Khanna to no end, and her arms ached from where she gripped the wheel so tightly.

  It was not doing Sapora any favours either. ‘It would be easier, would it not, to fly above the trees?’ he suggested.

  ‘No, it’s further to travel—Khanna is agile enough to avoid them,’ Amarah replied through gritted teeth, a bead of sweat running down her forehead despite the chill of the wind and the coldness of the evening.

  In spite of her perseverance, Amarah could not get away from the falcon; both overtook one another countless times as they wound their way through the trees, and both were struggling.

  Through her peripheral vision, Amarah guessed they were halfway round the city, with neither appearing as the clear victor. She did not know what to do if the race resulted in a draw; she had simply assumed she would win, take her weapon and move on. She didn’t want to hold back and lose, nor push Khanna too hard and end up damaging her, not if she wanted to win some coin in the remaining days of the races.

  Clouds descended as the evening wore on, blocking out starlight and moonlight both, and the outer city was bathed in darkness. Inside the city’s walls, small dots of light appeared as fires were lit; a sea of stars in their own right, and Amarah exhaled slowly, trying to focus in the poor light and calm herself down. If she got too worked up, there was no chance of winning the race. She would lose both face and the weapon, and the pirate didn’t know which was worse.

  The trees began to thin around the city’s southern side, and Khanna was flanked only by the grey stone wall marking the city limits. Her speed increased as all sails were unfurled and her engines were each on full thrust. Anahrik soared past, inching ahead slowly, his own wings spread for maximum speed and lift. Both Anahrik and Amarah were concentrating on their course as they shot along the wall, and it was only at Sapora’s sudden cry that they pulled away.

  A plume of fire suddenly enveloped the ship and falcon from above. The ferocity and suddenness of the attack meant Amarah and Anahrik reacted instinctively, folding their wings and diving out of the way of the smoke and flame, back into the trees.

  ‘What the—’ Amarah glanced up, and her eyes grew wide as a dragon descended from the clouds. It roared in fury at missing its target, and swooped over the city wall in a wide arc as the dry trees below turned to flame. The beast turned after igniting the foliage and headed back over the wall for another pass.

  ‘What in Linaria…’ Amarah gasped; suddenly realising they were under attack. She focussed on pulling up and out of the trees, trying to get out of the thick, black smoke which rose from the burning branches.

  ‘A dragon,’ Sapora hissed, crouched down below the ship’s controls, trying to shield himself from the heat of the flames. ‘With no warning.’

  Trying to look around and see where the beast was, Amarah spotted burning embers on her deck from where the wood had caught alight. ‘Sapora, get those flames out now or we won’t be in the air much longer!’ She called, gaining height and leaving the smouldering treeline far below her. She searched desperately for the incoming threat as she flew into the clouds, all thoughts of Anahrik and the race forgotten. In the darkness, she could hardly see a thing, and fought to keep panic at bay.

  Despite his fear of the flames, Sapora understood the sense in her order, and shuffled back along the deck. He covered his mouth and nose covered with his cloak, keeping the smoke away from his face.

  A sudden roar caught his attention, and Sapora ducked as the dragon s
hot another plume of fire after the ship, tinting the clouds in dredges of red and orange heat. Keeping well below the side of the deck, Sapora hissed in anger, avoiding the scorching heat of fire overhead. The dragon’s aim may have been true, but Khanna’s agility kept them out of immediate incineration.

  ‘You told me you can outfly a dragon, Amarah! Get away from this one!’ Sapora cried, stamping out the flames building on the bow of the ship. ‘Your hull may be alight. I am not going into the holds to look!’

  Amarah glared at Sapora, but said nothing in response. If he had been one of her crew, she could order him however she wished. But he was a guest, and a Varkain to boot; she had no authority over him.

  ‘I think flying away is a good idea, Amarah,’ he snapped, fear and anger taking hold as the silhouette of the dragon passed over them again.

  In the chaos and confusion, neither Amarah nor Sapora had noticed Anahrik crashing onto the deck in a heap of smoke and feathers. When he transformed back, Sapora flinched, angry with himself for not realising Anahrik’s arrival.

  The Ittallan had ash in his hair and had been scalded along the backs of his arms, but was otherwise in one piece, if a little out of breath. ‘Where did that come from?!’ he gasped, getting shakily to his feet. ‘Who ever heard of a dragon attacking unprovoked like that?’ he said, taking a step back and watched the dragon attempt another dive. ‘Incoming!’ he cried, diving to the deck floor and covering his head with his hands. He and Sapora felt Khanna balk under them as Amarah turned to avoid the next swathe of dragon fire, Khanna’s mobility saving them from the core of the attack yet again.

  ‘I think you’re just annoying it now!’ Anahrik called to Amarah. ‘Head back to the city. That many people gathered might put it off attacking!’

  With no better plan, and no way to counter the dragon’s swift attacks, Amarah turned Khanna around and flew back towards Niversai, aiming for the thousand twinkling fire lights. Putting her engines back on full thrust now that tight turns and manoeuvres were no longer an option, Amarah charged back to the city, believing in Khanna’s outright speed and hoping she would be able to keep ahead of the dragon’s breath until she was too close to the city for it to attack again.

  *

  ‘Dragons above, she’s leading it back to the city!’ Eryn cried, tugging at her sister’s sleeve in a desperate attempt to get her to run, as they watched the forest burn just outside the city’s wall. The sisters had been enjoying Khanna’s speed, what they could see of it, and were shocked at the sudden arrival and attack of the dragon.

  Moroda, however, was transfixed—never before had she seen a dragon so close, nor seen its raw power. In days gone by, she had sat atop hillsides on warm summer afternoons and watched them circle many leagues above, lazily gliding on thermals and allowing the current of the wind to carry them far and wide. They had always seemed such gentle creatures, unafraid of people, and decidedly uninterested in their affairs. She had heard of dragon attacks, of course, but they were mostly in self-defence or in revenge when raiders and thieves tried to steal eggs. Attacks were never unwarranted, as it appeared in this instance. But it was the suddenness, more than the attack itself, which scared her.

  ‘Why is it attacking?’ she muttered, watching, fascinated, as Khanna tried to out-manoeuvre the beast and avoid its flames. ‘I’ve never seen this before, what’s going on?’

  Eryn tugged at her sister’s sleeve again, succeeding in pulling her off their fountain viewpoint. ‘If we stay any longer, we’re going to go up in flames! Let’s get out of here!’

  ‘Eryn, she’s in danger! We should help…and she has my florins!’ Moroda replied, finally turning to look at her sister as she spoke. ‘We need that money!’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you both to seek shelter?’

  Moroda looked up at the question, and recognised the scarred traveller from the tavern that afternoon. ‘It’s you!’

  ‘The dragon will be on the city in moments, and it won’t stop.’ His attention locked on Khanna and the approaching dragon, its bronze-red scales glowing from the raging fires below. ‘These streets will go up in smoke and flame. Get away now, while you have the chance.’

  ‘Someone we know is on that airship, we can’t leave,’ Moroda pleaded, unwilling to run and hide without seeing the result of the conflict, or speaking with Amarah again. She also held a fascination with the dragon, and needed to know why it was acting so aggressively.

  With another deafening roar, Khanna and the dragon were upon them; the airship raced over the heart of the city and flew over Rosecastle, hoping to show all the strength of Niversai to scare off the beast. But it was to no avail. The dragon drew breath before unleashing another wave of fire upon the castle and surrounding streets, setting countless buildings alight and scorching everything stood in its path.

  *

  ‘Guess it’s not afraid of the city,’ Amarah breathed, allowed a momentary respite from the chase as the dragon turned its attention to burning Niversai. ‘My ship is alight, I need to get away and I need water,’ she said to Anahrik and Sapora. ‘Jump off if you want, or knuckle down and stay with me.’ She wiped the sweat off her forehead and cheeks. ‘I’m not sticking around for that thing to attack me again.’

  The makeshift bandage on her shoulder was slick with sweat and smoke, and was peeling away. With blood trickling down her arm and a stitch in her side, Amarah was almost overwhelmed with pain and exhaustion. Her hands trembled as she held onto the wheel again and turned, pushing her engines forward and heading away from the burning city.

  *

  The traveller paused for a heartbeat, watching Niversai burn under the dragon before shaking his head. ‘I am going to slay the dragon. Try and keep up if you can. I suggest getting out of the city now, before everything is locked down. The dragon will follow the airship.’ He stepped away from the girls and took off running down the streets.

  ‘Eryn, the city is going to burn. This is something I have to pursue,’ Moroda said, determined to see her decision through.

  Her sister opened her mouth to argue, but shrugged instead. ‘I can’t argue… Tell me what you want me to do to help,’ she said, defeated.

  ‘Just come with me, Ryn,’ Moroda said, taking her sister’s hands in her own for a moment. ‘Trust me.’

  It did not take long for the dragon to lose interest in the newly burned street, and it soon caught sight of the fleeing Khanna, already some leagues outside the city walls. IT turned its head, narrowing its eyes to focus on the moving target. With another roar, it leapt off the castle turret it had been perched on, beat its wings, and trailed the airship.

  Eryn and Moroda watched it fly into the darkness, and Moroda knew her mind was made up. Both girls clambered down from the fountain and raced through the streets to the city gates, determined to follow the dragon and see the battle through to the end.

  Chapter Five

  Morgen was thrown awake by what sounded like a terrible thunder. The castle’s stone walls shook, weapons secured to them falling to the floor with a clatter. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, sword drawn and raised, ready to face whatever threat had stirred him so violently from his slumber. Other than the shaking walls, there was nothing to be seen.

  ‘What’s going on…’ he muttered, trying to shake the sleep from his eyes and focus on the sudden threat. He stepped forward to pick up one of the shields thrown from its holder to the floor, eager to have some protection.

  As he knelt down, the castle succumbed to another huge tremor. Loose stones from the ceiling and walls fell to the floor, covering Morgen in a fine layer of dust. It was then that he felt the heat.

  ‘We’re under attack! Battle stations, soldiers! Get out there and get it under control! To the armoury!’

  ‘Escort the king to the basement and seal the Royal chambers!’

  Brushing dust out of his hair, Morgen heard the orders of his captains and the other officers stationed in the castle. He could hardly believe his ears—the castle w
as under attack by an unknown force, and everyone was reacting. Racing footsteps pounded down the corridors as his colleagues hurried to the armoury, and Morgen rushed to pick the weapons off the floor. As he stood up, weapons held in each hand, the few members of the Imperial Guard still stationed in Rosecastle burst into the armoury, frantic.

  ‘Ten sowrds!’

  ‘Six crossbows!’

  ‘A dozen shields!’

  Morgen handed out weapons as quickly as he could, worried what threat could possibly cause such a response. ‘What’s happening? Who’s attacking?’ he asked, handing the last pair of shields to one of his captains.

  ‘Dragon. Been years since one attacked. Grab a shield and get outside. We’ve got to get the townsfolk out of harm’s way, then take it down. We tried to get on horseback, but the things all bolted when the stables went up in flames,’ the captain replied, inspecting his shield for half a moment. ‘We must bring it down. The safety of Niversai depends on it,’ he said, before turning to follow the rest of his soldiers out of the castle and into the burning streets.

  Morgen’s eyes widened. In all his twenty-two years, he’d never heard of a dragon attacking a city as large and well-defended as Niversai. He knew they were creatures to be well-respected and feared; he had heard of the damage they had done to harbours and farms, particularly when they had young with them, but he’d not spied a dragon within fifty leagues of Niversai since he’d joined the Imperial Guard, and wondered what had caused the attack.

  With time against him, Morgen grabbed two short daggers from the remaining weapons to arm himself: one for his waist, one hidden in his greaves; and gave his sword a final check over.

  Taking a breath to steady his nerves, and with adrenaline coursing through him, the young soldier charged out of the armoury and into the bright, fire-lit night air.

  He had barely stepped into the chaos when he stopped, suddenly afraid. He could hear the roar of the beast from somewhere above him, but with the burning embers floating in the air and the thick smoke from the flames, Morgen could not see more than a hand’s length in front of him. He coughed, covering his mouth with his forearm and walking slowly out onto the bridge connecting the castle to the town. Nothing in his training had prepared him for a dragon attack.