* * *
"Now!" Barabas shouted.
Using his free hand, Emmet pulled the cloth over his face. Soft bundles struck cold stone. For a moment, there was silence, but then an angry buzzing filled the hall, followed by screams. No amount of bravery or training can overcome pain and primal fear. Emmet curled himself into a ball and hoped the hornets would leave him alone. The Al'Zjhon were far from defenseless and, after the initial shock, covered their exposed flesh. From within their robes, they armed air rifles. Compressed air tanks hissed. Pellets stung Emmet's legs, his thick leggings and boots preventing more serious injury.
Chaos ensued. With the mean woman still standing on his wrist, Emmet sneaked a glance back at Barabas. He fought to reach him. The woman fired relentlessly, and the closer he got, the more pain showed on his face. The smaller air-powered weapons were less potent than their larger brethren but inflicted damage nonetheless. A hit in the right place could result in blindness or death.
Emmet did not want to see his friend hurt, especially not while trying to save him. When the mean woman shifted her weight, he took full advantage. So engrossed with inflicting pain on Barabas, she was unprepared when Emmet yanked his hand free, spun, and kicked her in the knee. The woman's leather garments were thick and well padded. His kick did little damage, but it did distract her long enough for Barabas to scoop a hornet nest still stuck in its burlap sack, and he threw it at the woman. It struck her full in the face. Emmet scrambled away. Her screams retreated toward the back of the hall.
Time had fully compressed, and the other Al'Zjhon advanced, doing their best to ignore the swarming hornets. A heavy weight struck Emmet from behind, sending him sprawling. Somehow he managed to hold on to Azzakkan's Eye, but it cost him. He'd fallen too close to one of the nests and could no longer avoid being stung. Already his face swelled and the vision in his left eye grew dark. His screams added to those of the mean woman and others. Dashiq roared behind him, her breath sending the paper hornet nests tumbling toward the back of the hall. Rough hands grabbed him. Only the sight of alabaster skin kept him from putting up a fight. More weapons fire ensued, and Barabas grunted with each hit. Twice he stumbled and Emmet feared they would both end up in a heap, but somehow the man reached Dashiq and tossed the boy into the saddle.
There was no time for securing straps, and Emmet held on tightly when Barabas gained his seat. Dashiq turned and launched herself back into the sky. Still holding the glassy sphere in one hand, Emmet gripped the saddle with his other. Dizziness threatened to overwhelm him, hornet venom coursing through his veins. The pounding in his head grew louder, accompanied by flapping wings and heavy weapons discharging.
Argus Kind's troops had successfully replaced some of the damaged air cannons. The world jerked sideways and Dashiq let out a moaning woof as heavy stone shot struck her in the thorax. For a time they tumbled, the ground rushing up to meet them. With a wheezing moan, Dashiq found strength she had somehow held in reserve and skimmed low over the city. Catapults, air cannons, and bows fired, creating an echoing chorus. An arrow sank into Emmet's boot, the tip digging into his flesh, but he could not remove it. The erratic flight gave him no chance to stash the glossy sphere in his pocket, and he was too busy holding on to do anything else. Only straps kept Barabas in the saddle, and Dashiq wobbled in the air. Was it worth it? Emmet wondered.
Only when open seas rushed beneath them did Emmet stash Azzakkan's Eye within his coat and secure two straps. Though far from safe, it was better than nothing. Barabas did the same, though he favored his right arm. No one left Ri unharmed, but he could still feel the power emanating from the ancient artifact.
Dashiq circled back, presumably headed for Riette and Tuck. A distressing sight waited. Battle balloons filled the skies, bristling with weapons visible beneath the raging fires keeping them airborne. Airships crept around nearby peaks, though none were high enough to reach the secluded valley with the green obelisks.
Struggling to gain altitude, Dashiq didn't look as if she would be able to return there either. Despite being out of range, those aboard the balloons opened fire. Though it inflicted no damage, the act made it clear there would be a price for regaining the shoreline. Dashiq used the only advantage she had left at that moment and dived closer to the waters below. With nothing to illuminate them, the balloons ceased fire. Searchlights scanned the water, looking for them, but the dragon showed her skill by staying ahead of the piercing light beams. Twice lights passed over them; twice Dashiq altered their course.
The far side of the island nation was more lightly defended, and the dragon used the opportunity to gain altitude. No thermals waited to lift them higher as the ground below them cooled in the night air, and Dashiq had to work for every bit. Emmet remembered once asking if the dragon was going to die. Now he understood it was inevitable. No matter what Barabas held in reserve to care for his dragon, he would only be delaying the loss of his beloved friend. Tears flowed from Emmet's eyes in spite of one's being swollen shut.
When the peaks they sought came back into view, it took Emmet a moment to recognize them. His blurry vision did not help, and the different angle made him question his own judgment, but there was no doubt that was where Dashiq was headed. What troubled Emmet most was how much higher they had to climb before reaching the valley where his sister and Tuck waited. His concern increased when an airship emerged from behind the peaks. Soaring higher than they, the airship glowed like a beacon in the night. Searchlights scoured the landscape, looking for Dashiq and her passengers, but the captain of this airship had something else in mind. How they knew where to look was unknown to Emmet, but the cold feeling in his gut grew while the dirigible moved ever higher.
Gusting winds tossed Dashiq about. The airship above was subject to the same and perhaps worse. Unpredictable crosswinds were difficult enough to deal with, but swirling eddies created by the peaks, which disrupted the prevailing winds, were treacherous and unpredictable. Unlike whirlpools in the seas, these were invisible. Emmet and Barabas watched, horrified to see the airship moving ever closer to the valley. Armed men climbed down a rope ladder that twisted perilously in the winds. No matter how much he wanted these people to fail in their mission, their bravery was undeniable. Perhaps the consequences of failure were worse than death. It was possible, he knew, and he tried not to think about the fate awaiting Riette and Tuck if they were captured.
Higher the airship drifted, trying desperately to avoid the jagged peaks, but the winds proved too much. Twice the men on the ladder were dashed against the rocks. One let go of the violently swinging ropes and clung to a rocky promontory, but within moments, he lost his grip and disappeared into the night, his screams growing faint then ending with chilling suddenness. Though he hated to see anyone die, this gave Emmet some hope his sister might yet be saved. Balloons joined the airship in its quest, their fires burning brightly, trying to overcome the churning air and gain the necessary altitude. Horizontal thrusters gave these balloons far more directional control, but they also added weight. It was a difficult balance to manage.
If not for the unspoken need for stealth, Emmet would have cried out. He watched in terrified silence while more men descended rope ladders now dancing above the mystical valley. Two men made the jump before a downdraft sent the rest crashing to the sacred stone, their fate perhaps more kind than those remaining aboard. No matter how the captain tried, his orders audible across the distance, the airship remained out of control.
Drifting higher, the dirigible sought to escape, but the valley had remained long undiscovered for good reasons. With a single gust, wind sent the airship crashing into the jagged peaks. Flames leaped higher when the canvas skin ruptured. A tearing sound was followed by snapping timbers. The ship began crashing into the valley itself, but the winds were not done with her yet. Even while the crew fought to gain control of the mortally wounded airship, the captain shouting for them to land in the valley, the flaming ship was thrust outward. After a final collision w
ith the mountainside, it plummeted to the distant valley floor.
With only battle balloons remaining in the night skies, Dashiq circled closer, trying to gain altitude and avoid the spotlights at the same time. It was no use. The wounded and weary dragon was unable to climb high enough. Bright lights blinded Emmet; they had been spotted. Shouts rose up from the balloons, and soon the sound of weapons filled the valley, echoing like rolling thunder.
Only the unpredictable air currents kept the dragon and her passengers safe. Unable to reach the valley by flight, Dashiq did the only other thing she could; she flew straight toward dark stone. Ferocious air currents swirled along the rock face, slamming them into the peaks with gut-wrenching force.
Refusing to give up, Dashiq dug her claws into the rock face and even used her tail for stability while she climbed one agonizing step after another. Again lights pooled on them, and the battle balloons fired. Lacking a stable firing platform, the shots mostly missed their marks, but a few came too close for Emmet's comfort. One struck the stone directly above them, rock fragments raining down like a storm of knives. Dashiq screamed in pain or perhaps just in refusal to die, Emmet was unsure. It was the weight that saved them. Battle balloons could carry only so much ammunition, and most dropped back toward the valley floor, presumably to reload.
Taking advantage of the respite, Dashiq climbed with all her strength, groaning and whimpering. It pained Emmet to hear her in such distress, and he rubbed her neck in encouragement. Moments later, they crested the rocky peaks in much the same way Berigor had, and the dragon tumbled into the valley. Not far away, Riette and Tuck stood side by side, each holding a round object in their hands. Two of the Zjhon who had dropped into the valley from the airship faced them. Another watched Dashiq approach. After picking herself up, the dragon walked with a pronounced limp.
"Stay back!" Riette screamed, but the Zjhon took another step closer. It was their last. Tuck and Riette each threw a clay sphere, and twin explosions rocked the small valley. The concussive force nearly sent Emmet tumbling from the saddle. The remaining Zjhon soldier looked around, realizing he was lost.
"Hold," Barabas said to the man in the most intimidating voice Emmet had ever heard, his slur barely audible. Dashiq continued forward, glaring at the man who cowered before her. "It seems you've a decision to make. You can die right now, or you can talk. Choose."
The man hesitated.
"Choose now or I'll choose for you."
Dashiq swung her head in his direction again, and the man fell trembling to the ground. "I surrender," he said. "I'll talk." He then threw his weapons at Tuck's feet.
Barabas ignored the man after that. His concern for Dashiq was palpable. The carriage rested nearby, partially repaired, but it would do none of them any good if the dragon died. Emmet, too, placed his hands on the noble dragon's side, and she trembled beneath his touch. Hovering over the black stone amid crystalline pillars, she looked almost well, but he could sense she was not.
"You want to live?" Tuck asked the Zjhon soldier.
The man just nodded.
"Then help us with the carriage. It's badly damaged and we were only expecting two passengers. If you want off this rock, I suggest you do your best. Otherwise you might end up splattered on them rocks way down there. I'd bet a fall from this height would be a bad way to go."
Barabas put a hand on Emmet's shoulder, breaking his trance. The man held out his calloused palm. The look on his face spoke of a request rather than a demand.
Pulling the glassy sphere from his coat, Emmet felt warmth emanating from it. It pulsed in harmony with his breathing but he knew it had life of its own and had merely synchronized with him. Having sought magic for so long and lacked synchronicity his entire life, Emmet did not immediately relinquish the ancient artifact. Legends of the first dragon rider and her dragon were known to everyone, though. The Eye would far better serve Dashiq.
His skin felt cold and somehow incomplete when he dropped the sphere into Barabas's palm. The man's reaction made it clear he felt it too. Most people would feel nothing. He and Barabas were different, which frightened people. It had taken seeing the problem from the outside for him to understand his own life. So many times he'd thought people mean, rude, and inconsiderate—and perhaps they were—but now he understood most were just afraid, or at the very least uncomfortable. In Barabas, he'd found understanding and hope. Things could get better. This he poured into his physical bond with the dragon. He, too, had been injured in the fight, and the hornet stings throbbed. Even in her wounded state, Dashiq sent him energy as well; he'd never experienced anything like it.
He felt Riette's hands going over him in much the same way Barabas treated Dashiq. "I'm sorry," she said. "I never should have let you go, and now look at you. I wasn't sure you'd make it back at all." The catch in her voice conveyed her emotions more than the words.
"I'm all right," Emmet said. Riette sobbed in response. He grabbed her wrists and gently placed her hands on the dragon. "She needs us."
Not opening his eyes, Emmet allowed his other senses to expand into the area around them. Much in the same way he sensed magic, he could sense life; deep down, he knew the two were the same. While life sometimes felt cold and mundane, existence itself was magical. Too few recognized the mystical world around them, only seeing the pain and suffering. He gently included Riette within his energy field, and she stopped crying.
Tuck and the Zjhon soldier worked on the carriage, but Emmet barely noticed. The sensation emanating from Azzakkan's Eye drowned out just about everything else. It moved away from him as Barabas approached Dashiq's face, and he could feel its influence fading the farther away it got. A soft click was followed by a moan Emmet felt through his fingertips. An instant later, warmth once again flowed into his hands, just as when he'd held Azzakkan's Eye. The physical bond had been reestablished with the dragon, who acted as a conductor. The stone was at home in her artificial eye socket, and the dragon reveled in the magic pulsing through her. Barabas had modeled the eye socket using detailed descriptions of the ancient artifact, hoping someday he would find the magic needed to make Dashiq whole. He had expected too much.
So tightly connected to the dragon and the power flowing through them both, Emmet experienced Dashiq's pain. Even possessing one of the greatest and most complex magics ever known, the dragon could not defeat death. Determined to do everything he could for her, Emmet drew deeply. Never would he have imagined such glory. From the black stone beneath him, he felt the land's energy flowing upward and through him, infusing him with its majesty. The green crystals resonated in harmony with the land itself and played a majestic tune inaudible to most but like a sweet lullaby to Emmet. Empowered, he reached through Dashiq, allowing her to become an extension of himself. Drawing from Azzakkan's Eye, he now understood its true purpose. This magic joined dragon and human into one. Such intelligence and compassion overwhelmed Emmet, and he felt shock from Dashiq, too, as if she'd never imagined such nimble thoughts.
Though he could have marveled at their connection for days, Emmet now felt the dragon's pain as his own. Beside him, Barabas drew a sharp breath. Through the bond, Emmet knew the man had just laid hands on her side once again. He, too, would feel the magic and the pain—and the connection. Emmet was grateful for the help; already he felt drained.
"What are you doing?" Riette asked. "What's happening?"
Doing his best to ignore his sister and everything else, Emmet concentrated on the pain, allowing himself to feel all of it: the broken ribs, puncture wounds, and more on top of already arthritic joints. Even Riette wept from the agony. How could they ask Dashiq to go on? It was too much for any living creature to endure, especially one so well loved and who'd done everything within her power to protect them. Emmet had known the dragon for a short time but had already grown attached. Now, through the magically enhanced bond, he learned she had fought for all of mankind, acting as a protector he'd just never known he possessed. No longer able to feel his
own body, Emmet soothed and mended, using what was now Dashiq's Eye to focus and channel the energy flowing from the land and crystals and filling the air. It was glorious and torturous all at once.
"Emmet!" Riette shouted, though she sounded far away.
He hadn't meant to stop; he wasn't done yet. The dragon still had pain. No matter his desires, he found himself faceup on the black stone, a painful lump forming on the back of his head.
"Are you all right? Are you hurt?"
Her words drifted past him but didn't sink in. Only when Dashiq nudged him with her maw did he become truly conscious again. Even in her weakened state, she somehow found the energy to send him healing. It did not take away his wounds, but he felt them less acutely and his vision gradually returned. The worry on Riette's face made him feel terrible. So many times he'd seen that look, and he hated being such a source of stress in her life. Someday he would find a way to change that.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not!" Riette said, and she carried him to a place where soft grasses grew. He felt cold and disconnected, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. The grasses cradled him, and the cold helped ease his pain. The touch of her fingers brought the sense he was loved, and that helped more than anything else.
Dragon Airways Page 38
