Gold Dragon

by Lindsay Buroker

  Since Shulina Arya seemed too irritated to do their traditional maneuver—the two dragons were hovering in midair, facing each other, she hurling flames and the other perhaps throwing a mental attack back—Rysha adopted a less traditional one. She stood and ran up Shulina Arya’s neck so she could see over the top of her head, then hurled Dorfindral point-first like a spear.

  Though she feared the sword would end up in the ocean far below, she knew from past experience that she and Shulina Arya could retrieve it from the bottom if necessary. And she had the satisfaction of seeing that barrier disappear. The flames spewing toward it struck the gold dragon full in the face.

  It roared as its scales charred black, then wheeled and spun away. But Shulina Arya did the aerial equivalent of a lunge, coming in close and snapping her jaws down on her foe’s long neck. Her sword-like fangs bit deep, the gold’s scales crunching loudly under the assault, and she shook her head like a dog finishing off a rat.

  Rysha grimaced as louder crunches sounded. Bone breaking?

  Shulina Arya’s body shook beneath her in response to the violent movements she was making, and Rysha dropped astride her, holding on in case the dragon forgot about using magic to keep her there.

  But Shulina Arya soon let go, startling Rysha with how abruptly she released the dragon, and dove.

  They arrowed toward the ocean far below, wind whistling in Rysha’s ears. She realized they weren’t arrowing toward the ocean but toward her sword. It must have been hung up on the dragon for a few seconds, because gravity hadn’t yet swept it below the surface of the water.

  Shulina Arya streaked downward at hundreds of miles an hour, her wings flattened to her sides, her tail stretched out like a spear behind her. Rysha worried about her ability to snatch the blade out of the middle of its thousand-foot fall without cutting her own hand off.

  Telling herself that it had likely already reached terminal velocity and the rate of its fall would be a constant did not help. All it did was make her wonder how the dragon was falling faster than that—she imagined some magical version of a flier’s propeller adding thrust from behind Shulina Arya. Then she told herself this wasn’t the time for mathematical speculations.

  Shulina Arya turned so that her back would be toward the sword as they caught up with it. Doing her best to ignore the blue water below them, water growing closer and closer by the second, Rysha reached out. With the wind slipping behind her spectacles and tearing her eyes, she could barely see.

  “One… two… three.” She snatched outward, wrapping her fingers around the sword.

  Thank the gods, she caught it by the hilt and not the blade.

  An instant after her fingers wrapped around it, Shulina Arya pulled up. Even with her magic holding Rysha on her back, Rysha felt the tug of the force pulling at her, and she marveled that she wasn’t hurled from the dragon’s back—or torn into dozens of pieces. She also marveled that she managed to keep hold of Dorfindral’s hilt. It hummed in her hand, and she imagined she felt reproach in that hum.

  A giant splat sounded, water droplets spraying the side of Rysha’s face. The other gold dragon had struck down into the ocean, less than a dozen feet away. It wasn’t moving. Its wings and tail splayed outward, and it started to sink.

  Shulina Arya issued the mental equivalent of an indignant—or smug?—sniff. That dragon will not nip at my hindquarters again.

  I’m glad, Rysha thought as they flew upward again, turning north toward the city. Did you learn anything from questioning him?

  Yes. It is as you feared. The dragons here are enacting two plans. First, they wish to force your king to sign a document giving them part of your country. They believe that humans put much worth in such papers and will abide by them. Second, they wish to rid your country of all the deplorable dragon-slaying swords it has recently acquired.

  Rysha didn’t point out that one of those swords had just helped Shulina Arya defeat another gold dragon. She was too worried about the rest of the statement.

  Some of our people are heading in to deal with those other dragons right now, Rysha said.

  Yes, they are walking into a trap.

  We need to go help.

  I am flying that way, Storyteller, but there is another threat which we must be concerned with.

  The silver dragons Bhrava Saruth and the pilots are fighting? Rysha leaned out to peer past Shulina Arya’s head as they flew toward the city and its harbor. She saw some of the fliers they had outpaced when they’d been chasing after the gold, but she couldn’t yet see the other dragons.

  No, the pilots are harrying one silver, and Bhrava Saruth is dunking another one in the water repeatedly and telling him to yield, that his life is empty and meaningless because he does not know the joy of being loved and worshipped. He is a very quirky dragon.

  I’ve noticed.

  My parents have forbidden him to court me.

  Er, has he asked them?

  Not in such a polite and honorable way. He suggested to Wyleenesh that there would be room for a carving of me in his temple and that we might rule over his human worshippers together.

  Dozens of questions jumped into Rysha’s mind, but she forced them down. She had more pressing concerns right now than whether or not that was how dragons attempted to establish relationships.

  If not the silver dragons, what’s the new threat?

  Remember how your mate and I sensed another dragon far out to sea?

  Yes.

  He is a very old and powerful dragon, a contemporary of your mate’s sire. Bhrava Saruth recognized him and said his name is Drysaleskar and that he was one of the elders back when dragons ruled this world before.

  Rysha thought about pointing out that dragons hadn’t technically ruled the world, at least not from the human point of view, but that wasn’t important. Please don’t tell me he’s coming this way.

  He is.

  You better tell Trip. Do you think we can beat this new dragon in battle?

  Rysha had mostly heard youthful bravado from Shulina Arya so far, so she didn’t expect the answer she got.

  No.

  Trip and Azarwrath, still levitating over the empty space where the floor had been, used their power to push aside the rubble that had buried the entrance to the stairwell. Trip worked as quickly as he could, knowing that brick and timbers filled most of the space inside, with Grady, Kaika, and Therrik buried underneath.

  He could still sense their auras and knew they lived, but he also sensed their fear and their pain. Worse, he sensed the two bear-shaped dragons at the bottom of the stairs, clambering over the top of the rubble, trying to reach the trapped officers.

  A muffled ursine roar emanated from the stairwell.

  We shall bury those foul blades forever, came a telepathic cry from one of the shape-shifted dragons.

  “Hurry, Trip,” Ahn whispered, right behind him.

  Worried and irritated with the slowness of his progress, Trip wrestled with the rubble. He had cleared the doorway on their side, but large blocks were wedged inside and he couldn’t get them out. In a fit of frustration, he growled and envisioned the roof being torn open and tons of rubble flying up and out.

  Duck cursed, and Ahn sucked in a startled breath as his vision came true. Rubble flew upward and disappeared through a gaping hole in the roof. Rain spattered down through the opening.

  Without stopping to marvel at his work, Trip scrambled onto the warped landing, heavy debris still scattered on it and more piled on the stairs leading down—the stairs leading to the two silver bears.

  One was already halfway up, a paw raised as it stood over a bloody arm sticking out of the rubble. The creature paused and looked at Trip.

  Azarwrath hurled lightning at it, but the bear attacked them at the same time. A pulse of mental power slammed into Trip so hard he stumbled back, shoulder blades hammering into the wall. Daggers seemed to plunge into his brain, and he gasped at the pain.

  Azarwrath stopped attacking and threw a sh
ield around Trip. It did nothing to stop the mental attack, but an instant later, a wave of palpable power rolled up the stairs at him, and though the soulblade’s barrier shuddered, it held. The rock in the wall behind Trip was pulverized, and dust flooded the air.

  He glimpsed Ahn in the doorway, her rifle ready, trying to get past his barrier so she could join the battle. Still fighting the mental attack from the first bear—it was the second creature that had hurled the physical attack—Trip waved for her to stay back. She and that rifle wouldn’t be of any use against the dragons.

  For that matter, he couldn’t do anything against two dragons, either. He had to free the sword wielders.

  Distract them, he told Azarwrath, snarling and attempting to wall off his mind as that bear stared at him, silver reptilian eyes out of place in its ursine face.

  I must keep the barrier up to protect you.

  As Azarwrath spoke, the bear farther down the stairs sent another blast that hammered his barrier. More rock crumbled behind Trip, and more snaps and groans came from within the building.

  The closer bear, seeming to believe Trip wasn’t a threat, went back to attacking the man—Therrik?—buried in the rubble.

  Just attack them for a second, Trip thought. I’m going to try something.

  Trip sensed Azarwrath’s reluctance, but the barrier dropped and the soulblade hurled waves of his own power at the bears.

  Trip gathered his mental energy and focused on the rubble again. As he’d done before, he willed a blast of air to rush under the rocks and force them up into the air, through the hole in the roof and out. To his surprise, the closest bear flew up along with the rubble.

  With the rocks and beams gone, Kaika, Therrik, and Grady lay exposed on the stairs, battered and bloody. Therrik lifted his head and looked straight at Trip, but only for a second. He mustered some energy and sprang to his feet, wobbled, then found his balance. With the chapaharii sword still in his grip, he leaped down the stairs toward the bear at the bottom.

  It hurled an attack at him, one Trip hurried to raise a barrier to defend against. The gust of power breezed past Therrik, Grady, and Kaika to batter at Trip’s defenses. He hardly cared. Therrik reached the bear and thrust his sword at it.

  The silver-furred creature reared up and slashed with its claws, but not before the chapaharii blade popped its defensive barrier and sank into flesh.

  Kaika and Grady clambered to their feet, both shaken and wounded—Grady gripped his ribs with one hand and drew in wheezing breaths. They had both retained their blades, however, and started down the stairs, looking for openings to get around Therrik’s broad back to help with the fight.

  Gunshots came from the rooftop. Trip sensed Leftie firing at the second bear. It had landed unharmed amid the rubble. It raced back to the opening in the rooftop, ignoring the bullets bouncing off its shielding.

  The bear appeared on the ragged ledge and roared as Kaika and Grady looked up, raising their swords. It jumped down, straight toward them.

  Trip wanted to knock the bear aside with a gust of power, but feared its shields would protect it. Instead, he launched an attack at its mind, forming a mental dagger to stab into its brain. It twisted in the air, batting its paws at its head. Kaika and Grady jumped to either side as it came down on the stairs, then leaped back in, plunging their swords into its flanks.

  The bear roared and shifted in front of their eyes, trying to turn back into a dragon. Trip read its thoughts, its plans to fly away.

  He gritted his teeth and focused on the creature’s mind, redoubling his attack and hoping to buy the others time to stab it repeatedly with those blades. And they did. They hewed at the creature like loggers racing to cut down the most trees in a competition. The chapaharii swords sank in again and again, and their foe couldn’t complete shifting to dragon form. Half roaring, half screeching, the creature lashed out weakly at them.

  Kaika leaped onto its misshapen back, drew her sword up like a spear, and plunged it into the dragon’s head. The fight left it, and its body slumped down motionless on the stairs.

  Relieved, Trip leaned a hand against the wall for support, his legs weak after the mental effort he had expended. But he feared he couldn’t relax for long. Scratches and grunts came from the bottom of the stairs as Therrik continued to battle the other dragon, still in bear form, by himself.

  Kaika and Grady jumped off the dead silver and raced down to help. The bear’s shields were down, and it was battling Therrik without magic, muscle and claw versus muscle and sword.

  Trip summoned his dwindling strength to blast the creature with a mental attack. The bear had strong defenses around its mind, and Trip didn’t think he’d done much, but it jerked its head back and snarled, distracted if nothing else. That gave Therrik a few seconds to leap forward and sink his sword into its chest.

  “Back off,” Therrik growled at his fellow officers. “This one’s mine.”

  He yanked his sword out and plunged it in again and again. Kaika and Grady stepped back and lowered their blades.

  Trip leaned his shoulder against the wall and stretched out with his senses, worried about what the bronze might be doing to her human captives while this battle went on. But he didn’t detect the other dragon, not in human form or any other. The people remained where they had been earlier, all still alive, thank the gods.

  Did you see where the bronze went? Trip asked Azarwrath.

  She fled a couple of minutes ago.

  Because she knew we would win?

  Because that elder gold dragon you sensed earlier started flying this way. Azarwrath did the soulblade equivalent of pointing a finger toward the sea.

  Trip sensed Bhrava Saruth, along with Zirkander, Tranq, and many of the other pilots, wearing down a pair of silver dragons fighting just south of the harbor. Shulina Arya and Rysha were flying toward the headquarters building; they were less than a minute away. Lastly, he spotted the old powerful gold that had been far out to sea when the team first arrived. It was in the harbor, attacking that crabbing ship.

  Rysha! Trip reached out to her.

  Are you all right? she replied immediately. We thought you were going into a trap.

  We were, but we’ve taken care of it. Someone needs to stop that new gold.

  Rysha hesitated. Shulina Arya says we can’t, not alone. Can you and the other blade wielders help?

  Trip looked down the stairwell to make sure the silvers were indeed dead. Kaika, Grady, and Therrik stood near the fallen foes, all hunched over, gripping their ribs or leaning on their swords and panting. After being buried under all that rock, they were covered with blood and bruises and would need a healer’s attention, but none of them looked to be in danger of dying or needing immediate help.

  I can help. Trip wished he could shape-shift and fly up there to join her.

  “The bronze is gone,” he told the team down below. “Get the people out of the basement. I’m going to help with the battle at the harbor.”

  Shulina Arya sailed past the gaping opening he had torn in the roof and landed near Leftie and the fliers.

  Therrik looked up at Trip, and Trip expected him to object to Dragon Boy giving orders. But all he did was wave and say, “Go get them. We’ll join as soon as we can.” His dark eyebrows twitched. “Dragon Man.”

  Grady smiled slightly.

  Trip sprang upward, using a gust of wind to propel him to the roof. He ran toward his flier—Leftie stood in the cockpit of his, the rifle he’d fired at the silver dragon still in hand.

  Wait, Shulina Arya said from the edge of the rooftop. He has stolen all of the crabs in the hold, and now he is leaving.

  Trip spotted the massive gold dragon flying up from the harbor, heading out to sea. He thought Bhrava Saruth and the others might give chase, but he sensed them far down the coast now. The two silver dragons had fled, and he and the pilots were pursuing them.

  As Trip reached his flier, he realized there was little point in jumping into the cockpit. The elder d
ragon had picked up speed as it flew out to sea, and already, it disappeared over the horizon.

  He didn’t actually kill anyone, Azarwrath observed, drawing Trip’s attention to two of the crabbing crew swimming toward the docks. Other men stared at their destroyed hold, the inside empty save for a few forlorn crabs left behind.

  Just damaged their ship and stole their cargo?

  Many dragons have done far worse. Also, his presence seems to be what caused the bronze and those silvers to flee.

  Are you sure they weren’t afraid of Shulina Arya’s approach?

  They all grew noticeably agitated at the elder’s arrival. The bronze broke a hole in a wall, shape-shifted, and flew out, abandoning her plans. You are the one who can more easily read dragons’ thoughts, but I believe she would have attempted to use the hostages to negotiate with us.

  Hm. Trip gazed thoughtfully out to sea.

  “Trip?” Rysha dismounted and ran over to him. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Are you?” He lifted an arm and looked her up and down. He needed to go heal the others, but he would gladly take a moment to help her if she needed it. Or simply to hug her.

  “Yes.” She wrapped her arms around him. “We think they were trying to get the swords.”

  “Or at least ensure we couldn’t get to them anymore, yes.”

  “I think they’ll try again.”

  He sighed and rested his cheek against her hair. “That does seem likely.” He gazed off toward the horizon again. What had that elder dragon’s name been? Drysaleskar?

  Trip stretched out his senses and located Zirkander and the others. They had given up on chasing the silvers and were heading back to the city.

  Sir? Trip telepathically contacted Zirkander. I have an idea.

  8

  Three mornings after the battle, Rysha waited outside the army’s stables for Trip. While the higher-ups debated what to do with the dragon problem, lowly lieutenants and captains had a day off. Trip had invited her to come out to see his little siblings with him, and she was glad to do so, though she wouldn’t have minded spending the day in her barracks room with him. They had finally been able to enjoy an uninterrupted night together and had found that her bed, though not spacious, was indeed more comfortable than a cave floor. Albeit somewhat noisier than a cave floor, with the old wood creaking and groaning under the admittedly robust use.