Regent tbop-1

by Brian Rathbone

  So many consequences rendered Catrin numb. No matter what she did, people and dragons were going to die. This realization made her choices a great deal easier to make. Just act, she thought. With remarkable speed, Catrin removed the buckles that held her in the saddle and leaped to the cold stone floor of the great hall. Demons flew like kindling before her, and more of the regent queen was once again exposed to the light. The mighty dragon showed wounds, but none seemed mortal. A spark of hope shone in Catrin's consciousness. The future is not written in stone, Catrin said to herself, and she leaped into the air, engaging any demons she found still standing.

  The regent queen turned and looked at Kyrien. For the first time, Catrin saw something other than anger and hurt in the queen's eyes.

  You should not be here, Kyrien. I do not want you to see this. No one should have to see such a thing. Now take the human and go. Please, Kyrien-for your own good-go.

  Catrin could feel the emotion, and tears came to her eyes. Kyrien's feelings mingled with her own, and such grief was more than anyone should ever have to bear. Desperate, Catrin continued to drive away the demons. Rearing back, the regent queen reached a towering and imposing height. The demons fell back of their own volition, and even Catrin felt fear in the face of such tremendous power.

  You are worthy. Protect him.

  The words reached Catrin with a wave of compassion, and she could feel the honesty and sincerity as the regent queen looked her in the eyes. The air was sucked from her lungs in shock when she saw a single demon charging through the masses. When it broke into the open, Catrin was terrified to see it wielded a lance similar to her own, save this one looked as if it were made of black glass instead of gold wire. Streaks of light danced over the glossy surface of the lance, and without slowing, the demon thrust the lance into the regent queen's exposed breast. There was a wet sound accompanied by a terrible sigh. Not satisfied with simply running her through, the demon twisted the blade then yanked. Only instead of pulling the blade back out, it yanked it sideways. The lance shattered into thousands of daggerlike shards. With a final wheezing grunt, the queen rolled to one side and collapsed.

  In that moment, Catrin realized just how perilous her situation really was. With the regent queen dead, the demons could concentrate on killing her and Kyrien, and she wasn't even mounted. Running back to Kyrien, she leaped onto his back. His pain was palpable and unbearable. It tore at Catrin's resolve, soaking her in guilt and remorse and regret.

  "We must live!" Catrin shouted. "You and I are not done-not even close. If we die now, then she died for nothing."

  The last words drove Kyrien to reckless action, his anger a force that polluted the air around them. Demons drew closer, their ranks thickening until they blocked the light, which seemed to be moving farther away. It was a maddening view.

  Be ready.

  Catrin didn't need to ask what for; instead, she drew deeply from the stones in the saddle and the spider globe. When Kyrien started moving, Catrin unloaded a barrage of attacks that turned the great hall into pure chaos. None were safe from her fury, and the air around the openings was once again filled with flailing demons. A rare few managed to remain in the hall, and only one of those managed to stand. Catrin decided to blast those farther ahead since Kyrien could easily handle a single demon, but the beast reached down and, from behind a fallen body, produced another of the glass lances. Catrin thought her heart might just burst.

  Planting its feet, the demon was in a perfect position to strike. All it had to do was let Kyrien's momentum carry him forward and he would impale himself. The shock of it stunned Catrin and slowed her reaction. The demon smiled a dark, wet smile as Kyrien approached, even though it must know its own death came just as surely. As the lance was about to pierce Kyrien's breast, Catrin acted out of pure instinct; she cast a wave of vibrating air that sang a high-pitched note. Part of her brain registered that Pelivor knew how to break glass with sound. Glass struck dragon scale, and for a moment the lance held its form, but then it fractured in a thousand places, just as it had been designed to do, only it did so before entering Kyrien's flesh. The look of triumph on the demon's face turned to utter terror as Kyrien ran him down.

  Again, Catrin had to concentrate on the demons that blocked their escape. Kyrien needed speed to get them clear of the rock face. His trembling form gave evidence to her concern. Catrin, in contrast, felt as if she could sunder the world, and she feared she would go too far. When she lashed out again, she did so with as much restraint and control as she could. Using a delicate web of energy whose vibration was extremely high and resonance packed a nasty sting, Catrin went for the enemy's eyes. Though she doubted it did any permanent damage, the result was nonetheless astonishing as every demon in the great hall reeled in agony and disorientation.

  Pushing stunned demons out of their way, Kyrien gave a heroic effort, trying to take advantage of Catrin's attack, but the effort slowed them. Some demons recovered their vision and moved to block their path. Catrin lashed out with short, precise strikes that pierced the demons and dropped them, the sounds of their deaths lost in the screams of the still blinded.

  Holding her breath, Catrin gripped the saddle horn and squeezed with her legs, some of her straps still not secured. When Kyrien launched himself into the air, Catrin bent her knees and braced herself. Though they dropped sharply, they did not quite clear the rocky crags below the entranceway. Based on the abrupt jolt that felt like it broke every bone in Catrin's body, she wondered how Kyrien could endure, but he extended his wings and caught a favorable wind that sent them soaring into the valley.

  The air below them hummed with arrows and bolts, and Kyrien turned aside. Only a few shafts managed to strike him, and his scales deflected those. Both he and Catrin remembered the last time she had removed an arrow from a wing joint, and Kyrien still complained that it ached before the rain. Using their speed, Kyrien climbed higher and out of bow range. A pocket of less dense air sent them downward, and Kyrien used it to turn them back toward the mountain. The view that waited would haunt them both. Accompanied by a victorious roar that frightened Catrin more than anything she'd ever heard, the head of the dead regent queen reached the entranceway and was sent tumbling down the rock face. It was an exceedingly stupid manner of celebration, as the rock face was crowded with demons, and the huge dragon head took out scores of them.

  For a long moment, Catrin held her breath without realizing it then inhaled sharply when the ferals filled the air around them. In an instant, Catrin readied herself, but the attack never came. Instead the ferals attacked the remains of the regent queen. Kyrien's outrage flowed through the bond, but Catrin convinced him that the queen was already gone and that this could give them time to escape.

  Though she no longer maintained the link to Pelivor, she knew that he was still in the dragon's vale-her vale. Kyrien raced along the valley toward the vale unbidden, and Catrin could only hope that her friends were still alive. Guilt and remorse stabbed at her as she second-guessed her decision to leave them. Had she truly been protecting them, or had she simply placed them in even greater danger. The thoughts made her want to cry, but she waited to see what reality truly existed.

  She saw Kenward first; he was pointing at her and shouting, but she couldn't hear his words. Blood pounded in her ears, and she could hear nothing over the roar of it; not even the rumble of the wind pierced it. As Kyrien dipped low, Catrin sensed a presence above and behind her, and it was then she turned and saw the giant feral bearing down on them, claws extended and jaws agape. It was a terrifying sight that made Catrin's nightmares seem warm and safe. Nothing can be compared to the feeling of knowing you're about to be torn apart, and Catrin's body trembled.

  With unsteady hands, she unbuckled herself as quickly as she could. Kyrien dipped low, allowing her to roll unharmed from the saddle onto the rushing grasses. Tumbling, she hoped she could stop herself before she struck rock. A moment later she found herself lying faceup on the grass, watching a pair
of claws only just miss grabbing her, Kyrien having done his best to keep her safe.

  Kenward ran toward her. Then Pelivor was there, helping her stand. The rest were huddled within the remains of the Slippery Eel. Pelivor led her back to the ship, and she could barely meet the eyes of those who waited. She had brought them all here, endangered their lives, then abandoned them. And after all of that, after betraying her friends for the sake of the dragons, she had failed. Now they would all die-her friends, her son, her husband, her people-all would die because of her folly. It hurt so badly that she thought she might crumble under the weight of it. The thing that made her feel worst of all, though, was the fact that instead of wanting to protect her friends, all she wanted to do was abandon them again.

  Familiar hands pulled her into the hold, and tears came to Catrin's downcast eyes.

  "Thank the gods you're back!" Farsy said, and Catrin felt wholly unworthy of his enthusiasm.

  "I'm sorry," was all Catrin could manage to say.

  A long silence hung between them, but the cries of dragon and demon filled the space.

  She turned to Pelivor. "I know I can ask no more of you, but I will. Pelivor, you must protect us," she said as she handed him the spider globe.

  He looked intrigued at first when he saw the globe, but when it dropped into his palm, there was an audible click and a small spark. His eyes went wide, but a smile crossed his lips. The smile faded when she handed him the lance, his hand sliding into the guard and closing over the handle of her sword. "The rest of you, please get the drums."

  "Oh, no," came Kenward's voice from behind. "You're not leaving us again."

  "I can go with or without your help, Kenward, but I am far more likely to return if you help me."

  Kenward stepped backward, as if Catrin had struck him, but he knew the stakes. This was no time for hurt feelings. He could get her back for those later, provided they survived. The captain looked critically at Pelivor. "Can you protect us?"

  Pelivor responded by smiling and holding his hands out to his sides. Preternatural breezes stirred the silks he wore, and light danced around him. When he spoke, it was not to Kenward. "Death awaits those who would do us harm!" The words rang through the vale, the deep bass of his voice amplified by the power flowing through him. The spider globe sent beams of light from within his clenched fist as he held it high. In his other hand, he held Catrin's lance, and he leveled it at an oncoming feral. He did not wait for the dragon to get close. He used the lance to focus his attack into a narrow beam of boiling liquid fire that seared the air with a roar.

  Catrin turned to Kenward. "Drums!"

  Chapter 20

  Only a fool stands between mother and cub.

  — Wendel Volker

  The journey to the Godfist took only the span of a thought, but Catrin's spirit slowed before actually reaching her homeland. Had she been able to, she would have traveled directly to Sinjin's side, but the air grew thick with energy and malicious intent. Hatred washed over her, and it made her want to scream. It was like being covered in fire ants.

  Dark with malevolence, an unnatural storm, seemingly ready to swallow the world, dominated the horizon. Vast networks of lightning jumped across its surface, and the thunder was nearly continuous. Smaller patches of darkness coalesced and gathered into formations-dragons of black fire with riders of pure night.

  Never before had Catrin witnessed such utter wrongness, such warping of nature, and she felt naked against the storm. Twisted darkness, launched from the fingertips of the black dragon riders, streaked toward Catrin. She prepared for the assault, casting out defensive energy. As he had in the past, Kyrien took the brunt of the attack, having seemingly appeared from nowhere, his energetic form of lightning and fire pulsing with light. He was a jewel amid the horror.

  More attacks came and Kyrien could not absorb them all. Doing so would likely kill him, and Catrin cried out for him to stop. There were simply too many attacks coming at once. Catrin and Kyrien were alone against thousands, and their numbers seemed to grow continually. Weariness overwhelmed her and a sense of resignation took hold. This was a battle she could not win. When she saw Thorakis, the feeling of utter defeat solidified.

  Shining like a black sun, he rode atop a gleaming feral dragon. Even at a distance, recognition caught in Catrin's throat. In one hand, Thorakis held a staff; in the other, a carving. A cry escaped Catrin when she realized he held the Staff of Life and Koe. Both were precious to her and held great power. Each had been shaped by her hand, in their own way, and she could not imagine standing against their combined might. Ever since she had carved Koe, she had not wanted to know what it would feel like to be faced with his aggressive stance, and now she knew; it was terrifying. There was only one consolation, and that was Thorakis did not rest his fingers in the grooves left by Catrin's grip. For some reason that made her feel better; the thought if his touching those places made her feel ill.

  Thorakis gave her little time to contemplate his presence before he lashed out. Torrents of power slammed into Catrin, and it felt like being caught in the surf before a storm. Energy pounded against her with relentless force, and she felt as if she were being torn apart. In the next instant, she could almost hear Kenward shouting. His words had no meaning, though they did serve as the slightest warning before power surged through her. It was a source she recognized: the queen's saddle. The instant she felt one of the straps hit her physical hand, she sensed the saddle and Kyrien. Looking down, she saw his fiery form now under her, and together they felt more powerful. Their energies mingled and where she was weak, he was strong, and she felt she brought something to him as well. He was not incomplete without her, but together they were stronger. That thought comforted her, as did the momentary clarity with which she heard Kenward say, "Go get 'em, Cat!"

  Emotion threatened to overwhelm her, but she kept it in check, using it instead to fuel her rage and fury against the darkness that sought to despoil all she loved. From Kyrien she sensed the burning desire for revenge, not so much out of spite, but out of the need to absolve his guilt. He had let the regent queen die. He had betrayed his own kind, and no knowledge could be so damning. Catrin could not completely understand his inner struggle; she could not grasp his relationship with the queen nor truly understand how he had betrayed his kind. It was very clear, however, that Kyrien believed he had done just that. Though Catrin had shown love to the regent queen, she hated her for that last bit of spite with which she inflicted this guilt on Kyrien. But the regent queen was dead.

  Emitting a roar that would make a lion quail, Catrin unleashed a wave of furious attacks, the line of energy extending back to her physical form now blazing like a new star. Deep troughs tore through the darkness, but like the deepest ocean, more flooded into the void, making it look as if her attack had done no damage at all. Twice more she cast out weblike attacks, trying to break the darkness into smaller chunks, but again it flowed back together. Then there was no more time for attacks.

  From every direction came a massive assault that dwarfed all those before it. It felt to Catrin as if her universe was collapsing in on itself, and she was at the very center of that crushing weight. Despite her power, despite her will, and even in the face of her closest ally, Kyrien, this attack made them seem insignificant. Nothing could withstand so much hatred. None could endure so many wishing they had never existed. It was the most terrible thing Catrin had ever experienced, being made to think that she was worse than useless; her very existence was harmful to everything else around her.

  Seethe. Kyrien uttered a single word in Catrin's mind, and instantly she knew that Thorakis was not the true threat. The real threat was Seethe, the dragon Thorakis rode. Seethe was not Thorakis's dragon; Thorakis was one of Seethe's many humans. This realization struck Catrin like a thunderbolt, and she looked into the feral dragon's eyes, trying to understand the true threat.

  You are worthless. Give yourself to me, and you will be part of something much stronger. How can
you hope to stand against this?

  The thunderous voice in her mind was accompanied by a wave of compulsion that made what Archmaster Belegra had done look like friendly persuasion. This voice sought to obliterate all thought but its own, and it hammered at her as the collective will of tens of thousands joined in. Then something occurred to Catrin: If the feral dragons were so powerful, why did they need humans?

  This thought must have been betrayed to Seethe as Catrin heard pounding laughter in her head. You are but tools to me, implements designed to achieve my will. I wouldn't bother keeping you around at all, but you do have such delicate fingers. But if you prove too troublesome, you are something we can certainly do without. Seethe then flooded Catrin's mind with the vision of the death of mankind. Perhaps he'd meant to frighten her, but she'd seen it before.

  You underestimate the power of a single will, Catrin thought with all her might, and despite the singularity of her statement, she felt the wills of others backing her. The world around her was suddenly filled with light; flaming dragons surrounded her and reinforced her will. One in particular caught Catrin's attention as it bore a rider, and Catrin nearly shouted in glee when she recognized Halmsa of the Wind clan, who looked as if he would burst with pride, but moreover he looked ready to die for Catrin. Somehow he thought that Catrin had fulfilled her promise to him and taught him to fly dragons, though she knew not how she had done any such thing. Still, she could feel his gratitude as he sent it toward her; it bolstered her soul.

  It was a proud and brief moment. Then the world exploded. Both sides released the full extent of their might and fury, holding nothing back. The heavens shook and the pillars of Godsland trembled. Catrin felt the energy of the planet surging through mighty keystones-six of them. One of which was within the Grove of the Elders, another at the great shallows. Catrin did not know exactly where the others were, only that they existed. Anyone who controlled them would control the world. Catrin tried to bury that thought lest the dragons find out-that is, if they did not already know.