Last Dragon Standing

by Rachel Aaron

  “I just hope it’s fast,” Amelia said, clinging to Bob’s arm as the two of them walked over. “I don’t know if you looked up during that enlightening conversation, Julius, but things are starting to get extra apocalyptic.”

  It was getting rather dark. “Are we the only ones going?” Julius asked, looking at Marci on his back.

  “Yes,” Bob said. “Or rather, there are plenty who would come, including me, but you’re the only ones who should. You’re going to Algonquin with a human Merlin, a dragon, and a Mortal Spirit. That’s already a combo pack of her least favorite things. Let’s not make it worse by piling on.”

  “I really wanted to go,” Amelia said grumpily. “When else am I going to get a chance to see inside a Nameless End? But Bob convinced me that a Mortal Spirit who was also a dragon would be a bridge way too far, so I’m taking one for the team.”

  “Good call, Amelia,” Marci said. “I’ll tell you how it is.”

  “Make sure you take notes,” the dragon spirit pleaded. “If we survive, I’ll need a full report.”

  Marci crossed her heart and crouched down low on Julius’s back, Ghost tucked safely under her arms. “Ready when you are.”

  “I’m ready,” Julius said, looking up at the giant dragon floating above them. “But what do I do? Do I just fly up?”

  “I have no idea,” Bob confessed. “There are so many ways this goes wrong, we’re down to picking the least bad. Whatever you choose, though, I’m sure it will be fine.”

  Julius swallowed. “That doesn’t sound very seer-like.”

  “It’s not,” Bob agreed. “But I’m still confident, because it’s you.” He looked at Julius, his green eyes surprisingly serious. “You’ve only known me a short while, but I’ve known you almost my entire life. I’ve watched these last few months unfold in a million permutations, and in all those potential outcomes, even the tragic ones, you’ve never done less than your best. That’s all I could ever ask of my cornerstone piece, and it’s why I believe in you now. I know you, Julius. I don’t have to see the future to know that so long as there’s the tiniest chance of making this work, you’ll find it. And if you don’t, we’ll all be dead, so I’ll never know I was wrong. It’s called being an optimist.”

  Julius would have called it crazy, but he never got to say so because Bob had already stepped back. “Time to go,” he said, lifting his Magician’s Fang. “Good luck!”

  The seer hauled back as he finished, swinging his sword like a bat. The flat of the blade whacked Julius right across the middle, knocking the much smaller dragon high into the air just as the giant construct above them took a deep breath. The magic was so thick now, Julius could feel his feathers curling as the heat built and built and built. Finally, just when it seemed the air itself was about to combust, the construct of the future opened his mouth to release a gout of flame so huge and bright, it whited out the sky.

  Julius went still so fast, he nearly fell out of the sky. The Black Reach’s fire was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. It was burning hot, but in that heat were more colors than he’d known existed, including the Quetzalcoatl’s famous green. If he hadn’t been in danger of melting, he could have happily watched it forever, but the lovely plume of deadly fire was already flying away, arcing like a solar flare to crash into the black underbelly of the Nameless End.

  “NOW, HEARTSTRIKER,” Dragon Sees Eternity roared, his mouth dripping fire. “GO WITH THE FIRE NOW!”

  Julius obeyed, pressing his wings tight to protect Marci as he shot into the geyser of fire like an arrow. As his vision went white, Julius closed his eyes, certain they were about to be burned to a crisp. There was just no way anything could survive fire this hot, and yet the magic didn’t consume him. It lifted him, carrying his snaking body like a leaf in a stream up to the Leviathan and through, past the melting wall of black congealed magic and into a deeper dark.

  Chapter 14

  After the chaos of the battle and their mad dive through the Black Reach’s kaleidoscope of fire, the sudden stillness inside the Leviathan felt like someone had pulled a plug on the world. The hole they’d flown through closed immediately, leaving Julius gasping in the dark, but while nothing hurt, he couldn’t see or feel his body, or anything else.

  “Marci!” he called frantically, feeling around. “Marci!”

  “I’m here,” Marci said, her voice surprisingly close. “But I can’t see you.”

  “I can’t see you, either,” Julius said, his voice confused and frustratingly disembodied. The Black Reach had said his fire would protect them inside as well, but he couldn’t see a—

  Light blossomed around him, making him jump. All over his body, the strange, thick darkness was boiling away to reveal a warm glow that came from below his feathers. It reached Marci a heartbeat later, revealing her face, and then her body in a slow unraveling as the light from his fire pushed back the dark. The change was primal and slow, but eventually it covered them both, surrounding them in a bubble of warm illumination that felt unspeakably old and fragile. The soft glow looked nothing like the brilliant multicolored fire outside, but it smelled strongly of the Black Reach, and when the flames crackled over Julius’s skin, they spoke in his voice.

  You don’t have much time, the Black Reach’s fire whispered. I gave as much as I dared, but though he is not yet fully here, the Nameless End eats quickly. He will eat me too if you do not hurry.

  “Then we’d better get moving,” Julius said, looking at the wall of liquid dark beyond the circle of the Black Reach’s flickering protection. “Any idea where to start?”

  Marci shrugged helplessly, and the Black Reach said nothing. In hindsight, Julius wasn’t actually sure if he’d been talking to the construct himself, or if the words had been a message bottled up for him in the fire. Either way, it seemed they were alone in here for real now, assuming there was a “here” at all.

  The inside of the Leviathan was empty in a way Julius had never felt. Even with the Black Reach’s fire illuminating the space directly around them, Julius wouldn’t have known there was a floor if his feet hadn’t been planted on it. It had no texture or temperature, no feeling of any sort. It was just… nothing. He couldn’t even smell the magic anymore, and the lack of it was making his dragon body feel heavier than ever. Much more of this, and he’d be forced back into his human shape whether he wanted it or not. Yet another timer they were going to have to beat to have a prayer of pulling this off. But just as Julius was wondering how one navigated through nothingness, his nose caught the faint scent of lake water.

  His head shot up so fast Marci jumped. “I smell her,” he said, breathing deeply. “That way.”

  He took a tentative step in the direction of the scent, pressing his foot down on the emptiness beneath them. But while there was no sensation at all—no movement, no solidity, not even the pressure of his own weight—he didn’t fall into the blackness, which was good enough.

  “What are we walking on?” Marci asked, tapping her shoe against the blackness. “Leviathan guts?”

  “Who knows?” Julius said. “We’re inside a Nameless End. Physics might not even apply here.”

  “If that’s the case, why are we wasting time being cautious?” Marci asked, hopping back into position between his wings. “Let’s fly!”

  Flying when you couldn’t see where you were going was a terrible idea. Technically, though, this entire journey was a terrible idea. Julius saw no point in being cautious now, so he spread his wings, pushing off the strange emptiness with his claws.

  It was one of the oddest experiences of Julius’s life. Flying through nothingness made even less sense than walking on it, but while he felt no wind under his feathers or lift in his wings, it did seem like he was going faster. It might well have been all in his head since, without landmarks or anything to judge distance by, actual relative speed was impossible to determine. But flapping made him feel like he was doing something, so Julius kept it up, pumping his wings as hard as he could as
he followed the lake water scent like a bloodhound through the dark.

  It took forever. Having just battled it, Julius was painfully aware of how huge the Leviathan was. He’d been flying at what felt like top speed for several minutes now, but the scent wasn’t getting any closer. He was beginning to worry it was all in his head, and they weren’t actually moving at all, when he spotted a spark of light in the distance.

  The glow was as faint as a distant star. If everything else hadn’t been so unrelentingly black, Julius would have missed it entirely. As they got closer, though, he realized the spot wasn’t actually glowing. It was simply not dark—a small, muddy circle of cloudy, greenish-brown water no wider than a manhole cover. The puddle didn’t even ripple when he landed beside it, and the scent of lake water was only moderately stronger than it had been at the beginning. He was lowering his snout to the surface to make sure this was the source of the smell he’d been chasing when a woman’s hand shot out of the water and grabbed his nose.

  Julius jumped backward, almost knocking Marci off as he frantically scrambled out of reach, but he needn’t have bothered. Unlike every other time he’d encountered Algonquin, the hand that grabbed him now was as weak as the muddy water it appeared to be. It broke the moment he jerked away, falling back into the puddle with a tired, exasperated splash that warped into two wet words.

  “Go away.”

  “No,” Julius said, crouching at the pool’s edge so Marci could climb down. “We went through a lot of trouble to get here, and we’re not leaving until we speak with you.”

  Considering the finality of their situation, Julius fully expected Algonquin to tell him to sit there until they all died. To his surprise, though, the watery hand reemerged, followed by an arm, and then a body as Algonquin hauled herself out of the tiny puddle, her blank-mirror face still managing to glare somehow when it turned to reflect his own.

  “Come to beg for your life, dragon?” she whispered, her once-roaring voice now as quiet as a spring rain. “I’m afraid you’re too late. It’s over. I’ve won.”

  “Won?” Marci cried, stepping forward with Ghost in her arms. “You fed us to a Nameless End! That’s not you winning. That’s everyone losing!”

  “Typical human,” Algonquin said. “Ignorant to the bitter end. But make no mistake, this will be your end, not ours.”

  “If you believe that, you’re delusional,” Marci said, her face furious. “I’ve been to the Sea of Magic, Algonquin. Your monster is getting ready to eat a lot more than just dragons and humans.”

  “But not forever.” The spirit lifted her watery head proudly. “The End and I struck a deal. I give him myself, all current magic, every living thing, and the rest of our world down to the bedrock, and in return, he promised to leave the land when he moves on. It may be barren rock for a long time, but eventually, life will return. New spirits will rise from that barren ground, and the world will be reborn.” Her murky water curled into something like a smile. “A new world, clean and pure. A world without you.”

  Marci clenched her shaking fists, but Algonquin’s words actually gave Julius hope. He’d known she wouldn’t truly destroy the world. It went too hard against everything he’d heard about her, and what she’d said herself. Her dream had always been to return to the time when the Spirits of the Land were the only spirits. From that perspective, sacrificing herself to the Leviathan so he could eat their world down to the core made a twisted sort of sense. Spirits were eternal. So long as land existed in some form, they would always rise again. They could afford to wait the eons it would take things to recover, especially since, without humans or dragons, there’d be no competition getting in their way. Algonquin clearly saw herself as a martyr, trading her life for a better future for everyone. There was just one catch.

  “Do you really believe he’ll stop?”

  Algonquin’s head snapped toward him. “You have no right to question me, worm!” she cried, her muddy water boiling. “It is because of you and the humans that I was forced to do this!”

  “We didn’t force you to do anything,” Julius said calmly. “You chose to make a deal with the Leviathan. But what assurance do you have that he’s going to stop where he said he would? He’s a Nameless End. That doesn’t leave much room for compromise.”

  Algonquin tilted her head, distorting the reflection of Julius’s face as her water rippled. “I remember you. You’re the little Heartstriker from Reclamation Land. The one who talked too much.”

  “That’s me,” Julius said. “But this needs to be talked about. You’re gambling everything on the word of a planar force whose existence revolves around doing the one thing he’s promising you he won’t. He could eat this entire plane the moment he finishes you off, and you wouldn’t even know. How can you trust him?”

  “A fine question from a dragon,” the spirit said coldly. “Your kind has no concept of faith or obligation. But you’re right. He is untrustworthy, but no more so than the rest of you. I’d rather gamble on his honor than put my faith in the humans and their Mortal Spirits. At least the Nameless End is honest about his desire to destroy.”

  She turned to Marci and Ghost as she said this, her reflective face throwing back a distorted image of their growing anger.

  “How did you get this twisted?” Marci cried, clutching her spirit. “How can you trust a creature who eats planes over your fellow spirits? He’s the inimical alien force here, not us! The magic that I use and that makes up Ghost is no different from the magic that fills your lakes. We’re the same. Why can’t you see that?”

  “Because it’s not true!” Algonquin cried, rising up in a fury. “I am the land! You are simply an out-of-control infection, and that thing you call spirit”—she threw out her hand toward Ghost so hard, the muddy water of her fingers splashed onto his white fur—“is nothing more than the power you’ve surrendered to your out-of-control emotions! If I’d done nothing, my kind would be yours to abuse and exploit just as you exploited our land while we slept.” She flung her arm out at Marci next, pointing an accusing watery finger in the mage’s face. “You pushed me to this! This is all your fault!”

  She was shaking so hard by the time she finished, her face could no longer hold a reflection. Julius could practically see the two-headed monster of rage and fear consuming what little was left of the once great Lady of the Lakes in front of his eyes. But though she’d been his kind’s greatest enemy since they’d come here, all he felt for her now was pity.

  “This isn’t you, Algonquin.”

  “Shut up!” she snarled. “You are the worst of all! The others are a cancer, but at least they are a failing of this world. You are nothing but a parasite. A freeloader, feeding on our power. You have no right to be here!”

  “But I am here,” Julius said firmly. “We’re all here, Algonquin, because this is the world now. I’m sure you thought things were paradise back when your spirits were the only ones, but that time is gone. Even if your plan works, and the Nameless End does stop where he promised, your ‘victory’ will be a barren rock. Whatever rises from those ashes won’t be the world you knew. It’ll be something else entirely, a new land with new powers struggling desperately to survive on the burned crumbs of a once-beautiful world. That’s what you’re leaving for the future. That’s what you’re calling victory.”

  “You think this is what I wanted?” Algonquin roared, splashing cold water onto his feathers as she rose over him. “My plan was to muzzle the magic back to a level where Mortal Spirits wouldn’t rise! I would have done it too, if not for them.” She threw a line of cold water at Marci and Ghost, who jumped back. “They are the ones who ruined my paradise. This was never what I wanted, but it’s all I have left!”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to take it!” Julius cried, rising up on his hind feet so he could look her in the face. “Just because you can’t go back to how things were doesn’t mean you have to destroy what we have now. There’s nothing stopping us from making a new paradise except you. If
you’d stop hating us for a moment and listen, we could—”

  “Why should I listen?” she demanded. “What have dragons done for this world except take? What have humans done except defile the land and fill it with monsters?” Her water opened like fangs. “I have every right to hate you!”

  “But what has that gotten you?” Marci asked.

  The cloudy water jerked. “Excuse me?”

  “No one can argue the damage humans have done,” Marci said, hugging her glowing cat against her chest. “We’ve done terrible things, and you have every right to be mad about them, but hating something doesn’t fix the problem. I’ve had a front-row seat for every one of your sketchy plans to stop the Mortal Spirits, and not a single one has made things better for you or the things you claim to care about. I was willing to work with you in Reclamation Land, but you wouldn’t even listen to a compromise. You tried to use Ghost and me by force, and when that didn’t work, you fed your precious Spirits of the Land into the chipper-shredder to get enough magic to raise the DFZ as a slave to Myron so he could be the first Merlin.”

  Her face grew furious. “Do you have any idea the good you could have done with that much power? How much better everything could have been if you’d used your magic to greet the confused, newborn Mortal Spirit of the DFZ in peace instead of stomping on her? The DFZ turned out to be amazing! She could have been an incredible ally if you hadn’t treated her like a fighting dog, but you did. You were so busy hating us, you didn’t even think about trying something different, and now you’re doing it again. You’ve chosen over and over to be the villain, and now you’ve sided with this monster against your own world! Your Spirits of the Land, the ones you claim to be doing all of this for, they’re so afraid of what you’ve done that they willingly gave their magic to me so I could try and stop it!”

  Algonquin pulled back. “The banishment,” she whispered. “That was their magic?”