Maybe twenty seconds into my counterattack, another nigh solid bout of air collided with my flames, insisting they be half as long. It was not a pulse like the first. It lasted several seconds, forcing me to focus on it or lose the advantage. With my flames thus occupied, a thresher was able to jump to the upper wall outside. It broke in. The gale abruptly ceased. A harpy-like figure leapt after the thresher.
“Let’s go, Mercer!” said Felicia, her voice somewhere near where we came in.
I vaguely heard her. My attention was at the horribly fast echoing steps of the higher fiend twenty feet above us. By the time I even fully turned around to aim my flames at the ceiling, part of it exploded downward and outward. The thresher fell first, crashing on top of barrels and sending some of them tumbling. A couple of smaller fiends dropped next. I lost track of them when the winged hallion fell unnaturally fast immediately afterward. She landed in a buffeting wave of compressed wind that knocked back Alex and Isabel.
Not thinking, pointing my flames at the harpy instantly boiled the ice in nearby containers. The steam burst out of them, creating an obscuring fog. Now unable to trust my sight, I hesitated in using my dragon’s full power. That’s all the harpy needed. After a blurred sidestep, she unleashed a slashing shockwave. It cut through part of the fire breath and struck me like a landslide. I was whacked into the glacier tunnel.
Thanks to the glowing red ground in front of me, I had just enough light to see the mother harpy’s silhouette rushing for me. Switching to my corruption scarcely gave me the power and speed in my muscles to roll out of the way of her crashing talons. Pushing myself up, her second set of talons sliced the bridge of my nose. This up close, I realized this higher fiend, who stood a third as tall as me, appeared to be a blend of both harpy and krewen features.
Sheer instinct had me unsheathing Lormevar, which did make the hallion stop itself from swiping at me again. It instead flapped its reedy wings, prompting a strong gust to unbalance me. Again, that tiny opening gave her the chance to thrust herself headlong at me and slash at my sword arm. A talon tore the underside of my wrist and was thus easily able to slap away the sword in the same motion.
I took a measly jump backward. It tried to follow with a mightier leap, but something prevented it. I felt Alex’s spell paralyze me, so I knew what caused her hesitation. She wailed at the same instant the crack of a gunshot overthrew the slightly stifled ones still happening deeper in the mill. I broke free from the spell and reached for a dragon stone. However, the hallion mother broke free a second later. I ignited the stone, but I came to regret it.
Rather than face me, she turned away from the close-range flame to dash for Alex and Isabel. They both fired their weapons. I think I saw blood splatter, but such a thing mattered not to a higher fiend unless bullet or sword severed head from spine. Air swirled around her. She released it when she jumped. The surge dispersed much of my apprehensive black fire and shoved Isabel to the ground.
Alex got off another shot, but not only did he miss entirely due to the shockwave disrupting his aim, it simply made him the fiend’s first target. She grabbed his shotgun at the same time she landed in front of him. Her other hand pushed him backward with both muscle and air.
Isabel tried reaching for her rifle, but our nemesis noticed. At the same time I reinforced my black flame, a clawed hand pounded Isabel’s back. A wailing cry. The cunt noted my incoming flame. She stopped it in its tracks with her grave gale. I charged at her to concentrate my flame and make it a worthy foe to her wind. Gods forbid the hallion get a chance to grab Isabel and use her as a useful hostage against me.
However, the hallion was glad to make me her main target again. She stepped forward, adding a twist to her wind. She began winning. Frantically adding dragon prana from the crystal only managed to flutter my control and the flames’ colors. The back of my mind also feared losing mastery completely and harming Isabel further, if she was even still alive.
Uncountable black and orange embers enveloped me. A few caught my clothes on fire. An idea… and my last hope.
I aimed my flame a little higher, hoping it forced her away from my head. I fathomed she wouldn’t want to toss my body away with a pulse of wind. She yearned for my death. I stopped fixating on the blaze when she came within her arm’s reach, abolishing my firestorm in a magnificent puff. Rather, my focus and unrestrained dragon prana went to the infant flames that clung to my left arm. She stopped gushing air. Her talons crushed the dragon armor at my stomach. As three or four curved claws punctured my flesh, she lifted me off my feet.
My upper left arm burst into flame. I thrust out my inferno-laden arm and grabbed her gaunt neck. At the same instant one of her claws pierced the skin at my forehead, I discharged the fire through the entirety of her hateful beak-head. The once angry mother’s headless form collapsed, dropping me with her.
Chapter Thirty
Were it not for my corruption, the bewildering pain from my left arm’s bubbling skin would have put me in a debilitating shock. A glance at it showed swollen patches of pink and red, especially around my forearm and the top of my hand. About half the chain-teeth were liquefied, perhaps forever fused with whatever parts of my skin healed. As for the mirrored limb, I pressed my ripped wrist against my chest to stem the bleeding happening there. That wound alone probably threatened to make me faint if I switched to my regular reserve.
Heedless of my injuries, my legs still worked. I got up and lurched toward the motionless Isabel. The healthier Alex reached her first.
Saying something to relieve me for the first time since we met, my brother said, “She’s breathing.” He looked at my arm more than my eyes.
“Get her out of here.”
I went back for Lormevar. I found it in one of the new shallow pools of water created by the heat of my attacks. On picking the sword up, I heard the not so distant stampede of fiends. When even the mere thought of swatting a fly made me wince, staying to fight another wave of mindless monstrosities sounded more impossible than finding the will to smile. I despised the vibrations going up my raw arm as I raced out the tunnel.
I rejoined the others. While Svren was covered in a lot of a thresher’s dark purple blood, I observed no obvious wound on him. Bregman limped a bit from his ankle. Felicia ran close to him, ready to assist her comrade if needed. Ishree asked to see my arm, but I only answered by informing them about the forthcoming fiend wave.
The jarring run and stinging breeze exacerbated my torched limb’s untouched nerves. Strangely, I felt as though dunking my arm in boiling water would ease the pain, or if I amputated the whole fucking thing. I was glad when several of the krewen soldiers in a defensive line ahead of us fired at the mill. It marginally aided in keeping my mind off the throbbing, gnawing misery. Fortunately, my corruption did make a touch of progress in mitigating the pain as I approached the airship. It also helped me remember the other sources of panging discomfort coming from my abdomen.
Rock rings surrounded the shadow under the airship’s hull. A slice of it opened to allow us through. With the airship hovering ten feet off the ground, those capable of making the ascension climbed a rope ladder hanging down from the door. Those like myself had to wait for manipulated rock to raise us up to the airship entry, which was a little tricky due to the moored vessel’s penchant for moving away whenever the wind blew. The opposite problem happened on my turn when the airship almost crashed into the rock tower. In any case, I hopped aboard without incident.
Several new human faces told me the krewen soldiers found survivors holding out in the Villa. A few stared at my burn. I didn’t care about that, but I feared them bumping into my wounds when the airship wobbled or a distraction blinded their movements. The current distraction lied below us, which we observed through the windows.
The faster hounds and scamps scratched, snapped, and howled at the barriers first. Two threshers came up next, with a third on the way. One jumped to the point its flogging tendrils cut through some of the airship
’s casing. Thankfully, I knew the airship’s main skin was only meant to hold together collections of sacs, so it would require many slashes to bring the craft down. After throwing a lit dynamite stick into the rabble, the last krewen unfixed the anchor by way of an earth spell from the ladder, lurching the enormous craft free.
Now in the sky’s relative safety, I adjusted my sword belt to so I could slump into the back corner. Ishree examined my wounds. In my haze, I felt him tightly wrap my right wrist in white cloth. He next directed a feathered water caster to enclose my left arm in the element. A blanket was placed over me. The krewen wanted me to inhale a vapor from a wet sponge, telling me it would ease my pain and put me to sleep, but I refused. I preferred to utterly expend my befouled prana reserve to spur the healing process. Going by the copious amount of corruption I used at any given moment, the reserve was soon to deplete.
Placed not far from me, Isabel lied prone as Ishree quickly moved on to check the severity of her lacerations. She moaned awake a few minutes into her gashes being cleaned and dressed.
Felicia, grabbing her sister’s hand to stop her from getting up, said, “Hey, stay still. You’re almost patched up.”
Isabel, eyes going wider, said something with a horse throat. Speaking louder and clearer, she asked again, “Do I still have my legs? Tell me the truth.”
“Yes, you still have them.”
She squirmed. “But… but I can’t feel them… I can’t feel them! Are they moving?! Godsdamn it, Felicia! Are they moving!?”
Ishree saved Felicia from having to verify it. In a professional, practiced tone, he said, “I’m afraid they aren’t. Now stay still and hush. It may be a temporary condition, and any violent movement can worsen that possibility.”
Isabel put her head down with a despondent groan and banged her fist on the floor. I could not read the amorphous expression Felicia gave me in a fleeting flash. Dejected anger? Loathing pity? Or was I inserting my own emotions into it?
Would thinking by pure logic help my state of mind? Lucian and a high fiend were dead. I should be able to get some people off this dying world. Yet it was my actions which hastened Grenhath’s demise. Was this what the dragons foresaw? What they wanted? Gods mend Isabel, but if prayers worked based on how much someone believed the gods would actually get off their asses, I feared I had given the plea a low chance at being answered.
I squeezed my corruption into my left arm, perhaps more than could “fit.” The water caster gradually moved and replaced the water over my arm so the current dislodged the charred skin and “teeth” fragments. When I sensed my corruption failed to exert anymore relief, I requested the sleeping vapor. It took a minute for the sweet, alcohol-like odor to slip me into the desired circumstance.
With my right hand on the sword’s grip, I revived in Lormevar’s realm. My whole body flinched the instant I tried to stand up. Despite not being in my physical self, it still exhibited the same pain. I wasn’t sure what else I expected.
Feeling myself about to leave its realm, I said, “Lormevar! Help!”
Behind me, the realm’s master replied, “Be calm. Please be calm. Think about your breaths. Take deep ones. Pain from the solid realm doesn’t have to exist here. You brought it you, so you can leave it behind…” Its hand rested on my right shoulder. “Breathe… Think about what calms you… What calms you, Mercer?”
“Flying… I mean on Aranath, not in a giant machine.”
“See? It’s working. You’re still here. What else do you want to do?”
“Get you to Orda. I think that’s worthwhile.” Except for an increasingly manageable aching in my left arm, a lot of the pain was evaporating with every exhale. I felt resilient enough to stand up. Turning around to face the enchantment, I said, “Thank you.”
A long blink. “It’s what I enjoy doing. It’s been a long time since I felt like I wasn’t tricking anyone.”
“I’m sorry for grabbing you while corrupted.”
“No, i-it’s all right. You didn’t mean to. I could tell you were so… single-minded. I was just scared for you. Your enemy was very strong… I don’t think I would have minded protecting you from a ghoul, even if it meant killing it.”
“Really?”
“I don’t know… I wanted you to live, and that meant her death. There was no peace I could bring her.” It put its hands to its shaking head. “Ahh! I don’t like thinking this way!”
“Now it’s you who needs to breathe. It’s all right. I didn’t use you, and I still don’t plan to.”
It lowered its hands. “Unless you have to… But only for ghouls!”
I nodded. “Perhaps your power can’t calm higher fiends who wish my death, but a friend has been severely wounded. Is it deceitful to use your power to calm her?”
“My magic responds to my wielder’s soul and intent. If you truly desire for her to find peace, then she will experience a measure of it. Of course, you are limited by how long your uncorrupted soul can deliver my magic. Your prana’s reserve is not, um…”
“Enough.”
“Yes. Maybe you can help for a few moments, but it will cost almost everything in your reserve.”
“What if I use dragon prana?”
“I don’t know a lot about a dragon’s prana. It’ll probably help, but then my power will dissolve some of the crystal you hold it in. Even Lucian’s special crystals needed to be replaced sometimes. Don’t you need to save as much vlimphite as you can to get you and other people out of Dretkeshna?”
Looking at the gray ground, I said, “Aye. You’re right. The least I can do after helping bring disaster to its people.”
The ethereal entity sidled closer to me. “You really feel that way?”
“Hard not to. Not too rational, I know. I’m not the one who exploited you, murdered, or allied with traitors and the fiends they worship.”
“And with the soulless man.”
“Right, him… Why does it always feel like I’m chasing ghosts? Ghosts often linked with the Rathmore name…” Lormevar chuckled. Raising an eyebrow, I said, “I say something funny?”
“Any pain left?”
I wiggled my left arm. “Hmm, almost none. You do something?”
“No. I sensed your spirit become calmer when you started thinking about your next step. That’s what works best for a warrior’s soul, I think. You’re a wallowing mess when standing still in your mind, body, and heart. You have to keep going. You don’t know how to stop. Like a runaway train or something.”
“That sounds bad.”
“A little. So, are you going to stop chasing ghosts? To stop fighting?”
“No… Hmph.”
“What?”
“The soulless man, Lucian, the Advent, the vilest criminals, I just realized they all have something in common. They organize in a way that moving against them means great consequences. It’s how they get people to leave them alone.”
“The strategy often works. No one likes paying a high price.”
“Indeed. I wonder if that’s why the gods of balance don’t do more to move against the gods of strife.”
“How do you know they aren’t helping you?”
“If they went to the trouble of swaying my fate, you’d think they’d give me a reassuring message of some kind. It’d be nice to know.”
“Or scary. I don’t think I could handle knowing the gods were interested in me. Too much pressure.”
“Maybe. You know, you’re thinking a lot clearer since we first met.”
“I’m allowed to be myself. I’m an ancient, wise being, Mercer… If half what I used to be.”
“I know how that feels. I suppose I shouldn’t recommend becoming corrupted.”
“No, but your presence is enough. Still, staying here is not true rest. Get a proper sleep. You need it.”
I stepped to the edge of the ruin and sat to stare into the mildly clearer water. “Aye, in a moment. No sense facing my reality so soon.”
I did ultimately enter a
true sleep. Without a dream to speak of, waking to the solid realm felt instantaneous. Bandages lightly covered my left arm, turning them scarlet. As long as I didn’t move it, the brittle pain wasn’t so awful, though the blood pumping in my arm’s veins apparently counted as movement. I drank and ate some provisions, followed by switching to my corruption once its curative clout could last longer than a few minutes. Fresh bandages were wrapped around my right wrist.
Now on and under blankets, Felicia lied next to her sister. I tried not to gaze at them. I only wished to sleep my way to the voyage’s end. It didn’t help that everyone on board exuded a silently morose disposition. Not many other moods to express once learning your homeland was now as vulnerable as ever to suicidal slaves of strife. Of course, with them being right there, I had to confront the new state of affairs once they were both awake at the same time.
After Isabel rebuffed her sister’s latest spoonful of vegetables from a can, I said, “I’m sorry.”
“No need for that, dragon knight,” responded a dispassionate Felicia.
Isabel’s head craned up to get a better look at me. “Yeah, we’ve talked enough about it already. You should be sorrier you didn’t choose me to shoot Lucian.”
“Then I’m sorry for that as well.”
“Get me to Orda and I’ll forgive you. Does Orda have good drugs for pain?”
“My scholar will get you the best.”
“Good. Tell him I don’t care if I get addicted.”
“Shh!” said her twin. “Don’t waste energy talking.”
Lormevar was right. I detested being so inert. There should only be the next strategy to plan. The next way I could help those who risked their well-being beside me. The next ghost to chase. What questions needed to be answered? Could Ghevont help Isabel? Was there anything he knew about his family history? There had to be something he could offer in either case.
The airship reached our destination as Dretkeshna’s sun dipped behind the mountain range. I didn’t comprehend how much the carriage to the mountain shook until I rode in it with my sensitive lesions tracking every godsdamn bump. In hindsight, I would have preferred climbing to the krewen home using only my legs.
The Dragon Knight and the Steam World Page 39
