Between Flood and Flame (A Cat Among Dragons Book 6)

by Alma Boykin

  The tail defeated the mammal. “I can’t do more than stabilize this. He needs a surgeon to rebuild the fourth and fifth codal vertebrae,” Rada announced.

  “Do it,” the triage leader ordered. Rada removed the most dangerous bits of bone by hand one piece at a time. Next she stabilized the spine, reducing the swelling around it and diverting the fluid back to where it belonged. Again, she rebuilt a thin layer of muscle directly above the codal spinal column, protecting the nerve bundle. From there Rada patched what she could, stitching the worst gashes closed where possible. The mammal sagged to the floor in a controlled collapse, exhausted.

  “Can we move him?” she heard someone demanding.

  “Ah, yes, but you have to keep him suspended,” Koypoh started. “And I need to monitor him.”

  Taloned forefeet dragged Rada out of the way. “Here, drink this.” The mammal downed whatever it was and almost gagged at the bitter aftertaste. “Give me your forefeet,” the same voice commanded and Rada felt something warm and wet on her hand and arm. Then she passed out, reviving when a blast of ash-laden hot wind flowed over her. Someone had jammed her helmet onto her head and Rada removed it, straightened her ears and replaced the helmet. The upper face shield descended automatically and Rada adjusted the combat monocular beneath the flash-resistant shield. “Lord Mammal, where are you?”

  “I’m down here,” Rada replied, rolling onto hands and knees, then standing or trying to. She found her satchel beside her and pulled the strap over her head as she knelt, blinking.

  Noor appeared beside her, almost frantic. “They evacuated the site and misplaced you. The fire reached the oilwood; we’re boxed in. Come this way. We’re sheltering up by the big rocks.”

  Rada stumbled along, then paused and looked over her shoulder. The trees on the other side of a small mountain stream exploded into balls of blue and orange, first one tree, then another. Damn you, Lan-zhe, she swore. Damn you, you greedy storm-catch. Rada dove to the ground as a wave of invisible flame seemed to flow over her. She cowered beside the rock but not touching it, while Noor deployed a fire shield over them. Rada, Noor, three other True-dragons, and four Azdhagi firefighters prayed to their gods as super-heated air washed over them, tugging on the edges of the fire shelters. Rada imagined a talkak made of flame, snuffling and pawing the trapped creatures, trying to find an entrance. Bits of ember pattered down and Rada sank lower, trying to keep out of the way of limbs and tails, glad that her own was not exposed. One ember in her fur and . . . Rada felt one of the True-dragons flinch in pain and she tried to help him, but had no energy left. She panted and prayed as fire swayed and danced around them, baking and burning.

  The group stayed sheltered up for almost an hour, until utterly, absolutely certain that the danger of fire had passed. Noor peeked out first, then lowered her fire shelter panel with a tired sigh. The others followed suit, revealing a monochrome black and gray world. “We’re going to be here a while,” one of the Azdhagi grunted.

  “Aye,” Noor agreed. “What supplies do we have?” They compared bags, packs, and pouches.

  Rada caught the scent of burned meat and followed it to the remains of a very large talkak sow and three cubs. She prodded the steaming carcass with her boot dagger and discovered that most of the sow remained edible. “I found supper.” One of the Azdhagi dug around near the base of a lightly smoking tree and turned up a cache of roasted nutroots. The group shared out the food, and two True-dragons rigged up a water filter, purifying enough water to keep them from suffering too much.

  “Noor, this was not in the holo that the recruiter showed us,” one of the True-dragons joked.

  Noor snorted, blending into the ashy landscape as darkness settled on the hillside. “You should know to read the fine print, Moyshee.”

  “I’ve met one honest recruiter,” Rada began. “She was as drunk as if she’d downed an entire keg of derzhine.” The others snorted or chuckled, aside from one Azdhag who failed to get the joke. The boulder closest to the stream retained some heat and the team clustered around it, not worried about the large predators that usually roamed this part of the Wildlands.

  A few stumps glowed red until dawn. Rada dozed, warmed herself by a stump, then dozed again several times in the night. She’d gone from baking to freezing and sneezing as smoky breezes stirred the ashes. Just before local sunrise the mammal found a largish tree, still standing for the most part, and relieved herself behind it. She took four steps towards the camp when a gust of wind blew ashes into her face. She ducked forward. “Crrrraaaack!” Rada bolted away from the tree. “Whump,” something heavy landed behind her, sending another cloud of ash and dirt into the air. Rada coughed and hurried to the safety of the clearing.

  “Never been around burned forests, have you, my lord?” Noor inquired.

  “No, only grass fires.”

  The party began walking up-slope. The Azdhagi had brought muzzle masks, as had the True-dragons, but Rada could only hold a nose-wipe over her face to filter out the largest bits of landscape. They’d just crossed the crest of the pass when Moyshe called, “I see motion.”

  Rada zoomed her monocular. “Four vehicles, look like transports, coming up the pass.”

  “We stop here.” Noor looked back behind them, then repeated, “We’ll wait here. There’s turn-around room and no snags overhead.” A very few minutes later the lightly smoked reptiles and mammal found seats in one of the transports. Androo stayed with them for the return trip to Moytu Center.

  “You were the only ones unaccounted for,” the pale red True-dragon began. “Black Valley is intact, aside from some isolated buildings and Teerlak’s fruit shed.”

  “What happened to it,” someone asked.

  Rada heard Androo’s good-humored snort. “All that fruit-based derzhine that he swore he never made? It caught fire when the roof of the shed collapsed. Rayho reports that the entire square smells like fruit pie.” Wheezy laughter filled the transport and Rada smiled, falling asleep to the sound. All at once she felt someone poking her in the flank.

  “Lord Mammal? Lord Mammal, we’re here,” the driver nudged her again, shaking Rada out of her doze.

  “Thank you.” Rada waited until Androo tumbled out of the transport before hauling herself across the bench and dropping to the ground. Her knee collapsed, as she’d expected, and she turned the fall into a roll to get clear of the others. Androo came up beside her and Rada used his carry harness strap and shoulder to get back to her feet.

  “Ground One?” Rada turned to find Sergeant Taersa trotting up, his commander’s walking cane strapped to his flank.

  “Affirmative and thank you, Sergeant.” She slid the cane out of his harness and leaned on it. “Thank you, Androo.”

  He saluted. “You are welcome, Lord Mammal, but it was a joint effort.”

  The corner of her mouth crooked up into a tired grin. “True, and neither of our joints are going to tolerate us going without rest for much longer. If you will excuse me?”

  “Certainly, Lord Ni Drako.” He waited until she’d walked a few steps before turning to see to his own crew.

  Sgt. Taersa paced Commander Ni Drako, ready to catch her if she collapsed from exhaustion. “Report, Sergeant.”

  “Korlee and Sskara are sleeping in the common bunk chamber, my lord. Horsa says their help freed him to coordinate Moytu, Howland, and our efforts for better efficiency and safety, and the medical supplies were worth their weight in tirmalium.”

  “Good. I’m glad someone found a use for those, since we’ve not needed them, thanks be.” Rada started coughing and doubled over before dropping to one knee, hacking smoke and only her god knew what else out of her lungs. “I do not recommend trying to inhale pinecones, Sergeant,” she wheezed after the spell passed. “It might exacerbate your allergy.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, my lord.” Taersa looked around, trying to find someone who looked like a medic or healer. Instead he saw Lord Oragi bearing down on them. “Company, my lord,”
the pilot hissed.

  Rada started to stand up and began hacking again, bringing up another sooty expectoration. The pale green True-dragon with Oragi trotted past the House head and pulled a flask out of her carry harness. “My lord, drink this. It will help you rehydrate.”

  “I’m a mammal,” Rada coughed.

  The medic shoved the liquid at the bent-over humanoid. “I know; we downloaded mammalian medical information as soon as we knew you might be coming here. It’s water, mint-oil, and black-fruit honey.”

  Forewarned, Rada held her breath and chugged the liter of fluid in one long, painful slug. The astringent scent made her eye water again and she felt grit on her cheek as the tears washed more soot away.

  As Commander Rada Lord Ni Drako caught her breath, Lord Oragi looked anywhere but at her. Finally he blurted, “My Lord, I apologize for my earlier rudeness. In my anger at the denial of assistance I treated you very poorly and I am very sorry.”

  “I accept your apology, Lord Oragi. Fighting a fire is much like fighting a war. Sometimes manners become secondary.” Rada ached, her ribs felt cracked, and all she wanted to do was drink the Zhangki River dry, curl up into a ball in a dark corner and sleep for at least a century.

  “That is true but it is no excuse for my bad behavior.” Oragi stopped, realizing just how exhausted his counterpart was. “Lord Ni Drako, House Moytu offers our hospitality, as rough and bare as it may be.”

  “And House Ni Drako accepts that gracious offer, although we are too poor to ever repay such a generous gift.” The formal words came easily, giving the two House Heads space. With Sgt. Taersa and the pale-green medic’s help, Rada found her quiet, dim, cool space. She washed off the worst of the grit before flopping onto a thick floor mat, asleep before the medic could ask if Lord Ni Drako needed something to help relax. Sgt. Taersa took a second mat, dozing in the doorway.

  The next day Lord Oragi, Androo, and Horsa, sent Lord Ni Drako and “his” personnel home with full fuel tanks and expressions of deep gratitude. Chief Forester Korlee had agreed to leave the three crews from Burnt Mountain with House Moytu for the rest of the sixt, giving the crews experience with joint House operations. Rada coughed a few more times on the way back to Singing Pines. Sgt. Taersa frowned, watching his commander with one eye and the instruments with the other. The welcoming party included a very determined Healer who almost refused to let Lord Ni Drako disembark before starting her examination of the mammal.

  Sgt. Stayer also hovered close to the Lord Defender. “Yes, Sergeant?” Rada inquired once the Healer finished poking and listening to her breathe.

  “This came for you, Lord Mammal.” He handed her an elaborately sealed page, then backed well away from the seated noble.

  Rada’s face flushed crimson, then faded to dead white as she read the missive, her lips compressing with fury. Two small plantations of bloodwood and blackleaf belonging to the Royal household are more important than the lives of a thousand Azdhagi and True-dragons. Not trusting herself to speak, Rada stood, brushed past the Azdhagi and dragged herself up onto the wall walk. She stared towards the mountains, almost blind with anger. Damn you, Lan-zhe. You dare to scold me for “failing to do my duty to Drakon IV” by going to the aid of Houses Moytu and Howland while you keep the firefighting aircraft in reserve to protect your precious furniture trees?! Rada’s right hand cramped, pain shot up one finger, and she glanced down. She’d dug her claws into the wood below the head of the cane, ripping one claw loose.

  Rada watched the blood dripping onto the silvery wood. Lan-zhe, you owe a Debt that all the riches of the Empire cannot pay.

  Claws and Effects

  Fall A.D. 2028

  “I’m sorry, Lord Mammal, but it did not heal clean,” the Singing Pines village Healer apologized, drawing back from her lord. “A contamination . . .”

  Rada studied her reflection. “You did very well, Healer Keess. There is nothing to apologize for,” she enunciated with great care. No, it was King Emperor Lan-zhe who owed Commander Rada Lord Ni Drako. “Thank you and you are dismissed.”

  After the reptile departed Rada set the small mirror down, buried her head in her arms, and sobbed for the ruin that had once been her face.

  Rada stretched, savoring the bite in the brisk autumn air. She prowled the wall-top walkway, her tail sweeping back and forth, reflecting her mood. Rada needed to be in her office, needed to be slogging through the final revisions to the summer’s reports and studying the initial proposals for the next year-turn’s budget, but she could not keep still. Instead she paced the wall walk, studying the skies and wondering where the usual mountain breeze had gone. Then she frowned, eye focused on a faint gray line well to the north. That’s strange, she puzzled, it looks like a storm front, but none are forecast for the next four days. Rada pulled her monocular out of her belt pouch and looked more closely. “Clouds or smoke?” She did not need more smoke, not with harvest in progress, every adult working in the fields or supporting the field crews and not prayer of help from the manor’s true owner.

  “Oh well,” she sighed. The guard, used to his lord’s monologues, ignored her in favor of studying the gray cloud himself. Rada decided to go inspect the grain storage and preparation room in the manor house and strolled down the treaded ramps from the wall walk to the building’s courtyard. As she emerged from under the storm-overhang the ground rolled and heaved under her boots, throwing her to the ground.

  Rada yelped, landed on her hands and knees, and watched streams of dust puff up from under the gray stone pavers. A stack of empty crates fell over and Azdhagi staggered out of the keep into the courtyard, hissing and screeching. Rada felt more than heard the earth bellowing and roaring from deep within. “Blessed Bookkeeper what the fucking hell?” Rada gasped/prayed, trying to stay as flat and still as possible until the earthquake subsided. The shaking lasted just over ninety seconds, according to the Royal Geographical Institute’s seismometer, but felt like three decades by Rada’s internal clock. A profound and utter silence filled the courtyard. Reptiles and mammal looked at each other, frozen in place until Rada growled, “Everyone safe? Fires put out?”

  Rada checked with her troopers and ordered the manor staff to begin cleaning up the messes while Royal Steward P’nang returned to his office to try and contact the village headmen. “Corporal, start cleaning up the barracks,” Rada barked. “Sergeant, you and him,” she pointed to a random Azdhag, “get space cleared in the infirmary in case we have casualties. You, go secure the energy and fuel depot. And the rest of you start on the kitchen, since I assume that’s where the worst mess will be. And prepare for aftershocks. We’ve been through this before.” When only a few people moved, Lord Defender Ni Drako raised her voice slightly. “Are you waiting for the Great Shi Dan to return from the dead and give you instructions? I said get moving.” The Azdhagi moved, vanishing with a skitter of talons on stone and a flash of tail-tips.

  Rada herself inspected the building’s foundations. The huge stones remained sound, and Rada patted the cool rocks. Some ancient builder had bonded the walls’ lowest courses to the granite below the keep, then glued the stones of the wall together in such a way that they flexed in earth shakes. Even modern Azdhagi engineers couldn’t duplicate the process and Rada wondered if it had been an experiment. However the work had been done, Rada thanked her god and those of the Azdhagi for the unknown builder’s genius. The water in the hot pool, cloudy with sediment, smelled burnt, so Rada made a note that no one was to use the pool until it had been drained and allowed to refill.

  Rada returned to the courtyard and found Steward P’nang waiting for her. “My lord,” the green-brown reptile began. “Good news from Singing Pines: no one is dead and so far only five are reported injured, all lightly.”

  “Thanks be! How is the village?”

  “Libo says that perhaps a quarter of the houses have collapsed. And there are patches of sand where the ground used to be, below the fields near the river.”

  Rada n
odded. “What about Burnt Mountain?”

  Libo’s tail twirled, revealing his mixed emotions. “No structures were damaged and no one suffered injury, Lord Mammal. But two foresters died when a tree dropped a ‘mate-killer’ onto them.”

  “Up in the salvage area?”

  “Yes, Lord Mammal.” P’nang and Rada rumpled their tails in identical shrugs: everyone who salvage logged knew the dangers.

  Rada decided to go down to the fields closest to the Zhangki River and see just what these sand patches might be and if the harvest had been affected in any way. “Sgt. Stayer? I’m going to the lower river fields.” Soon Rada, the sergeant, and a third soldier bounced over the vehicle track leading to the village’s grain fields and the Zhangki River loading dock. The earthquake had torn up parts of the “road” and their vehicle trundled along over some new holes that made Rada glad she’d grabbed her helmet.

  Rada and her troopers climbed out of the transport just as an aftershock hit. Neither as strong nor as long as the main shock, the temblor still rattled the mammal’s teeth and churned the Zhangki River into a muddy mess. The Azdhagi sank their talons into the ground and Rada leaned on her walking stick, trying to maintain an illusion of dignity as trees swayed and birds screamed. One of the sand patches rippled and more sand appeared, like bubbles in boiling liquid. “That’s impressive,” Rada commented, her tail a black bottlebrush.

  After the shaking ended, the fifty or so reptiles in the fields formed a large pack around Headman Libo, then dispersed after getting his orders. Ten Azdhagi trotted toward the village, presumable to check on things and deal with any new damage, and the rest returned to cut and process as much kurstem as they could. Singing Pines and Burnt Mountain had to be self-sufficient in winter, and harvest could not wait. Rada walked up to Headman Libo and another, older Azdhag. The reptiles remained calm and intent on the task at hand; anyone who lived near a river got used to dealing with semi-disasters. Libo bowed, as did the other male. “Lord Mammal.”