Greatshadow

by James Maxey

  Smoke trailed from their nostrils as they passed overhead. They were at least a quarter-mile up, but the furnace-like heat of their bodies washed over the remnants of the Black Swan as they beat their wings in a powerful downstroke. In seconds, they were at the mouth of the bay, facing the king’s ships. Their jaws gaped open and their pot bellies swelled as they inhaled uncounted gallons of air. At last, they breathed out.

  Infidel shielded her eyes as a second sun formed where the jets of flame shooting from the twin dragons overlapped. As the light faded, all seven of the king’s ships were aflame. At this distance, the men were little more than insects throwing themselves into the sea, trailing smoke as they fell.

  The dragons spun around. Again, they sucked in air and breathed flame, the light of their assault casting long stark shadows on the roof of the Black Swan. When the light faded, little remained of the ships. The sea itself was boiling where the boats had been mere seconds before.

  Satisfied with their work on the fleet, the dragons split, making a more leisurely approach toward what remained of Commonground. Along the way, they spit fire at the few boats and canoes that were afloat out in the bay. The distant screams of frying men carried over the water.

  One of the dragons turned its serpent face toward the Black Swan.

  “Uh oh,” said Infidel.

  “Goons!” Menagerie shouted to No-Face and Reeker on the roof below. “Let’s teach these oversized garden snakes some manners. Maneuver nine!”

  “Rurh!” said No-Face, grabbing up a shattered roof beam.

  Reeker looked pale as he shouted to Menagerie, “You’re joking, right?”

  No-Face handled the twenty-foot beam, thick as a grown man’s thigh, like it was no heavier than a piece of kindling. The big man slapped the beam down at the edge of the roof, with about six feet hanging out, pointing straight toward the advancing dragon. Reeker held up his hands as No-Face approached him.

  “C’mon, guy, I mean, you can’t really—”

  No-Face grabbed him by his shirt and spun him around, sitting him squarely on the end of the beam that sat upon the roof. Reeker swallowed hard. “Boys, it’s been good knowing ya,” he whispered.

  “Guh,” said No-Face, nodding.

  “On the count of three!” Menagerie shouted. “Three!” He threw himself from the crow’s nest. When he was over the point where the broken beam jutted into space, he changed again, taking the form of a hippopotamus.

  Like most hippos who discover themselves to be sixty feet up in the air, he dropped like a stone. He hit the edge of the plank with all four of his fat, round feet expertly placed for leverage. Reeker shot into the sky, his hands clasped before him, his eyes tightly closed. His lips were moving, though I couldn’t hear him. It looked for all the world like he was praying.

  The Goons’ aim was perfection; there was a reason why they were the best paid mercenaries in Commonground. The dragon dove toward the Black Swan, opening its mouth to fill its great bellow lungs with air. What it got, instead, was a damp skunk-man slapping against the roof of its mouth. Instinctively, the beast clamped its jaws shut. Instantly, a cloud of yellow-green fumes shot out from between its long, jagged teeth. Its eyes grew wide.

  The creature veered away from the Black Swan, whipping its head back and forth, coughing violently, unable to breathe deeply enough to ignite its flames. Reeker clung to the beast’s tongue, hugging it with his arms and legs like it was a greased pole. Slowly, he slipped toward the tip. His entire form was hazy, as the most powerful stenches he could summon poured out of every pore. The dragon began to convulse, its nervous system overwhelmed by the chemical assault. With a final, frantic jerk of its neck, it sent Reeker flying. Before it could recover, it slammed into the waters of the bay, hard, vanishing beneath the surface in a violent boil.

  Reeker shrieked like a teenage girl as he sailed through the air before he, too, hit the surface of the water, bouncing once, twice, thrice like a skimming stone before he sank, leaving an oily film.

  “One down,” said Relic, casting his gaze toward the beast’s twin, who was still burning ships at the other edge of the bay. “Unfortunately, we’re running out of Goons.”

  Reeker still hadn’t surfaced, nor was there any sign of a hippo thrashing about in the waters below. No-Face had run to the edge of the barge and was looking down into the water, shouting out, “Munuh! Rukuh!”

  Infidel cracked her knuckles. “We don’t need no stinkin’ Goons.”

  Below, there was a loud crash. I hadn’t seen Aurora in over a minute, and now her head was sticking up from a trap door in the roof. She climbed out, bearing a large wooden harpoon, nearly twice as tall as she was, with a long coil of rope looped around her shoulders.

  “I’ve hunted whales bigger than these things,” she shouted, as she met Infidel’s gaze.

  “Fire-breathing, flying whales?” asked Infidel.

  “You wouldn’t believe,” Aurora said.

  The ogress spun around as the remaining dragon roared angrily and shot toward the barge, apparently now aware of the loss of its twin. Aurora dropped the coil of rope to the deck and drew back with the harpoon. “For honor!” she cried as she hurled the weapon toward the approaching beast.

  The harpoon never even got close. The coil snagged on a ragged board and the weapon jerked to a sudden halt not fifty feet overhead. The dragon inhaled deeply as it plunged straight toward Aurora. Aurora crouched down, covering her head with her hands as the dragon exhaled, shooting out a jet of flame, engulfing the ice-ogress. The dragon’s momentum carried it toward the mast upon which Infidel was perched. The flames instantly disintegrated the lower half of the mast. Infidel jumped from the crow’s nest, grabbing Relic by the cloak and hurling him out toward the bay. She dropped down, hands open wide, as the dragon’s scaly back flashed beneath her. She grabbed hold of the scales near the beast’s tail. The dragon reacted with the speed of thought, whipping the end of its tail down to shatter more beams on the roof of the Black Swan. The jolt knocked Infidel free. She bounced across the deck, flying off the edge, until a long length of chain whipped out and lassoed her ankle. No-Face jerked her back onto the roof, if it could still be called a roof. Little was left but a pile of broken boards and timbers, and half of these were on fire.

  Aurora was still alive. She was crouched behind a wall of cracked and melting ice, fighting to untangle the snagged rope of the harpoon.

  Infidel leapt to where the harpoon had fallen. It jutted up from the boards of the deck. She snatched it free, spinning around, racing toward Aurora, splintering the snagged board that had caught the rope. She wordlessly snatched the freshly coiled rope from Aurora’s hands and jumped over the edge, flying from the Black Swan toward a still intact piling. She landed on this and leapt again, giving chase to the retreating dragon, who now spun slowly over the area where the other dragon had fallen. The sea still boiled furiously. The dragon again cried out; this time the thunderous roar had an edge of grief to it. The beast turned its head upward, flapping its mighty wings as it steered back toward the distant volcano. The whole south slope was aflame now, the forests forming the world’s largest bonfire as the pyroclastic flow slipped through the once lush jungles.

  Infidel landed on a final piling before deciding she was close enough. She dropped the coil into the water, wrapping the last few inches around her wrist. The beast was low over the waves, the down beat of its wings brushing the surface. She reared back with the harpoon, the weapon comically long compared to her. When she let it fly, it flashed through the air more swiftly than an arrow. The dragon grunted as the harpoon buried itself in its flank, but didn’t look back. It flapped its wings again and flew higher, as the rope trailed behind it. Infidel grabbed hold with both hands as she was snapped into the air. She clambered up the rope like a monkey on a vine. The dragon tilted its head back, aware of her weight. It sucked in air and exhaled a long cone of flame, engulfing Infidel. For a second, she couldn’t be seen at all in the conflagration. T
hen, her hand reached out of the flame, grasping onto the hind-claw of the dragon just as the rope disintegrated.

  The flames faded, revealing Infidel clasped by a single hand onto the middle nail of the dragon’s hind-claw. Her clothes were mostly burned away; her skin was flushed red, like she had sunburn, and it broke my heart to see that her long, flowing tresses were mostly gone, singed down to a frizzled mess. Her eyes were set in a look of determination.

  The dragon wasn’t impressed. It flexed its claw forward, bending its head toward her to bite away the unwelcome passenger. As it opened its jaws, Infidel swung her body back and forth, dangling from the claw. The creature’s mouth glowed with the fading remnants of its flame. I saw a flash of light as the well-honed blade of my bone-handled knife was revealed in Infidel’s free hand. She swung forward, leaping into the beast’s open jaws, clearing its teeth. The creature’s mouth clamped shut.

  Suddenly, I was alive again. Not ghost alive; I was physically whole once more, popping into existence inches above the dragon’s snout. Unlike my previous manifestations, this time the laws of gravity applied. I slammed into the dragon’s scales, sliding down its snout, scraping my restored flesh on its raspy hide. I cut my hands trying to grab hold. The scales were like flakes of razor-sharp volcanic glass. I screamed as I left a trail of blood down its snout, but caught myself at last, my foot coming to rest on the ridge of its nostrils.

  My stomach twisted as the beast lurched through the air. The ground seemed impossibly distant. I felt certain I’d been restored to life only to face a second death. But... why? How had this happened?

  Suddenly, Infidel’s fist burst through the skin only a few feet down the snout from the dragon’s eyes, my bone-handled knife firmly in her grasp. The dragon’s blood bubbled on the surface of the blade, quickly boiling off now that it was exposed to air. Infidel’s whole arm tore through the skin, followed by a shoulder, then her bloodied head burst through. The blood boiled on her skin as well as the knife. The creature shuddered, then went limp in the air; whatever Infidel had done to it had apparently been too much to withstand. The beast’s snout tilted down. I could see water far below; at some point, we’d come back out over the bay. I was thrown free of the beast’s nose, my naked, bleeding body tumbling in the air. As I spun, I looked back toward Infidel, who was gawking at me, her eyes wide.

  “Infidel!” I shouted, straining my hand toward her.

  “Stagger?” she whispered.

  Then, the last of the fresh blood vaporized from the knife, leaving only a crust of black gore. The wind once more passed straight through me. I was suspended in mid-air, no longer in the grip of gravity. Light passed through my vaporous fingers.

  “Stagger!” Infidel cried, her eyes frantic as they searched the air where she’d last seen me.

  Then the dragon hit the water, and I plunged beneath as well, my ghost still tethered to the knife. The sea was black as ink, full of the stirred-up silt from the tidal wave. My vision was all but useless, unable to make sense of the images that flashed past me. The dragon’s hide seemed to be crumbling, breaking apart into bits of black and red gravel. For half a second, I saw a flash of Infidel’s torso. There was something long and rope-like wrapped around it, covered with cup-sized suckers. The water roiled, and a giant eye flashed past me, the size of a dinner plate, glowing with a golden phosphorescence.

  Then, suddenly, Infidel and my knife were back above the surface of the water. She was wrapped in the tentacle of an enormous squid, at least sixty feet long. A second tentacle held the soggy, sputtering form of Reeker.

  Infidel raised her knife to stab at the tentacle that held her, but stopped herself before she thrust the blade down. The dragon blood had been washed off by her plunge into the bay. As the last bit of pink water ran down the handle, I faded once more, invisible even to myself.

  The squid’s tentacles gingerly placed Infidel onto the wrecked roof of the Black Swan. She was, yet again, buck naked save for a ring of ruined leather that had once been the too-short skirt. Aurora rushed to her side, snatching up the half-charred flag of the barge and draping it over Infidel’s bare shoulders before Reeker had recovered enough to ogle her.

  “That was really damn impressive,” Aurora said. “But... who was up there with you?”

  “What?” asked Infidel, running her fingers through what was left of her hair. The longest bits were only a few inches long.

  “For a second, I thought I saw someone else clamped onto the dragon’s snout with you. Were my eyes playing tricks?”

  Infidel turned pale. “I thought I saw... I thought...” her voice trailed off. “It was just some poor sailor. He... he fell.”

  Menagerie dragged himself up onto the roof, human once more. The squid tattoo that had once been dark black upon his neck had faded to a barely visible gray-blue outline.

  He collapsed against what was left of the mast, staring up toward the still bubbling volcano. “I guess the king’s dragon hunt has been cancelled.”

  Infidel shook her head as she, too, looked at the raging mountain. “I don’t think so. Greatshadow has just been suckered. Those ships were decoys; I’ll stake my life on it.”

  “You’re probably right,” said Reeker, wringing water from his hair. He looked at Menagerie. “So, anyway, I quit. I’m done with dragons. Infidel can be the third Goon.”

  “You aren’t quitting,” said Menagerie. “You signed the contract.” He tapped at a section of cursive text on the left cheek of his buttocks. “Didn’t you read all the terms? You’re in this until Greatshadow’s dead, or you are.”

  Reeker sighed, then muttered something underneath his breath.

  “Hur hur hur,” said No-Face.

  Infidel laughed as she contemplated Menagerie’s skinny ass. “I guess that’s one way of discouraging people from studying the fine print.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  INNOCENT

  MY OLD SAILBOAT had come to rest in the tangled branches of a mangrove thicket half a mile away. The gaping holes in the hull would never allow it to return to the bay, but as a tree house it possessed a certain charm. Menagerie had spotted it in the aftermath of the dragon strike, as he’d flitted over the area in his vulture form, surveying the damage. He’d quickly singled out the most likely places to look for survivors, then he and the other Goons had set forth to help who they could.

  Infidel was never afraid to lend a hand to anyone in need, but she declined to take part in the rescue mission. I couldn’t blame her; she looked completely wiped out after her fight with the dragon. She found Relic’s gnarled staff among the shattered planks of the Black Swan and used it for support as she limped across the rubble in search of my boat. She was sweating, her face pale and feverish. Her invulnerable skin didn’t burn, but, like anyone, when she got overheated, she could feel sick. It didn’t help that the sun had come out with a fury, its tropical rays turning the humid atmosphere over the churned up bay into a pressure cooker.

  At midday, while Infidel still searched through the mangroves, I noticed the Wanderer ships returning. They sailed back into the bay in droves, once again forming a boat city, held together by ropes and ladders instead of docks and gangplanks. River-pygmies were now thick in the bay as well, an entire flotilla of canoes searching among the shattered ships and buildings.

  The eruption of the volcano had finally subsided. The once verdant southern slope of the mountain was black now, cloaked with smoke and steam. A shower of fine charcoal ash rained down on the bay, coating every surface.

  Infidel was grimy as a miner by the time she found my boat. The once white flag she was wrapped in was now mostly gray. She was all alone as she climbed into the branches. I wondered if Relic had possibly survived. No one had seen the hunchback since she’d tossed him from the crow’s nest.

  My place was even more of a trash heap than usual. The piles of books had all toppled. The towers of bottles and jugs had turned into a carpet of broken glass. Infidel dug through the rubble until she’d
found the thin cotton mat that served as my bed. She yanked it free of the debris and tossed it onto the deck outside. She located a few stained blankets and draped them in the branches, forming an umbrella to provide shade and shield her from the drifting ash.

  She toppled onto the bed face first, her body completely slack. She lay motionless for half a minute until she raised her hand to the back of her neck, running her palm along the uneven stubble of her scalp. She groaned, a sound mixing weariness, frustration, and despair.

  Then, she fell silent. After five minutes, I could hear her muffled snores. She slept like a corpse, her slumber undisturbed by the tossing, turning, and mumbling that normally characterized it. Hours passed; eventually the long day drew to an end and still she slept, without a single muscle twitching.

  The ash rain had finally stopped and the stars were slowly emerging when there was a loud crunch in the debris beneath the boat. Infidel didn’t stir as the sound repeated itself; something large and heavy was walking around.

  Someone called out, “Infidel?”

  Infidel remained face down and immobile, her voice muffled as she replied, “Mwuh?”

  “Infidel, it’s Aurora. Where are you?”

  Infidel rolled over on her side.

  “Go away,” she said, without opening her eyes. Her voice was feeble and scratchy.

  “I want to talk,” said Aurora. “I brought you some food.”

  Infidel’s unbruised eye cracked open slightly.

  “Monkey?” she asked, the faintest glimmer of hope in her voice. River-pygmies sold monkey meat stuck on bamboo reeds, deep fried and served with a chili sauce. Infidel loved the stuff, though I’d never cared for it.