by Dante King
“Faith?” the woman asked. Her covered head moved around, trying to keep Renji, Tamsin, Ashrin, and Jazmyn in view.
“That’s right,” I said. “As you guessed, we’re in desperate need of a couple of those special crystals. Time really is of the essence. So, to show your good will and to buy our trust, I’m going to need you to toss me those crystals on your belt.”
“You wish me to hand you both Etherstones as a sign of good faith, is that what you’re asking of me?” the woman said. You would have had to have ears carved of wood not to hear the dubious scorn in her voice.
“That’s about it, yeah,” I said.
The woman laughed then, a bitter laugh that made me feel like she thought we were trying to do a number on her. This was unjust. I had no designs on screwing her over, but there was just no damn time to launch into why the hell it was so important for her to hand over the crystals—or Etherstones, as she had referred to them.
There was a long, drawn-out moment. A moment filled with potential. It was the sort of pause in which a whole bunch of roads come together, for a whole bunch of people, before branching out once more into the myriad paths of the future.
Personally, I was hoping that the mysterious stranger would go out on a limb and simply trust me.
It was not to be.
“Bah!” the woman cried angrily. “I should have known not to trust the Empress Cyrene’s prized hounds! It does not matter that you oppose the Bloodletters as I do. Still that is not enough! Still you seek to snare me instead of treat with me! I will not be taken by force, even by the likes of you!”
With that, before I could offer any retort, she stepped out into space and dropped from the beam.
As she fell, cloak billowing behind her like solid shadow, the stranger moved her hands through the air. It was a gesture that I could only describe as balletic.
It was a gesticulation that was not just graceful, but also magical.
An enormous bear materialized below the woman as she plummeted toward the ground. It was a bear of such hulking immensity that it would have made even the most gigantic, black-hearted grizzly of the Rocky Mountains look like a Pekingese dog in comparison. It was the size of an eight-ton box truck, covered in bristling gray fur, and wearing armor that looked more like porcelain than steel. It also, unlike any bear species that I had ever seen, had a pair of deadly-looking curved horns protruding from its head.
“Butter my butt and call me a b-b-biscuit!” Rupert yelled. “She’s a bearmancer!”
The bear swept a paw the size of a snow shovel sideways and caught a couple of Renji’s squad with it. They were flung twenty feet across the temple and crashed through a selection of pottery urns in which herbs and dried meat had been stored.
The woman landed on the bear’s back a moment later, as lightly and easily as if she had dropped four feet, rather than forty.
“Fucking magic,” I grunted as the bearmancer took off on her unorthodox steed.
I really did not have the time for this sort of malarkey.
I really was not in the mood to put up with this shit. Not with Wayne’s life hanging in the balance.
Without pausing to consider anything, I let loose with Garth’s new spell, which the young Pearl Dragon offered to my mind like someone holding out a sword for me to wield.
The spell manifested itself as a pale pink harpoon-like dart that burst from my open left palm. It shot across the space that separated me from the fleeing bearmancer, trailing a length of pale pink chain behind it.
The magical harpoon smacked into the rear haunch of the monstrous bear, just under one of the segments of porcelain armor. Acting on impulse and instinct, I let loose a burst of mana from the reserve within myself and channeled it down the links of the thaumaturgical chain.
The bear, enormous as it might have been, was apparently no match for the stunning magic that I sent through the harpoon. The great beast might have possessed claws the size of chef’s knives and a head that could barely fit in the back of a pickup truck, but it spasmed in mid-stride and went down like a goddamn Cessna crash landing all the same. It plowed through a bunk of detritus left behind by the wild dragon, sending wood, pottery, and other junk flying.
With surprising agility, Diggens just managed to throw himself off his bucket perch, before both bucket and chair were crushed by the massive bear.
The magically conjured beast flickered and then vanished in mid-skid, as the spell that had brought it into being failed. The cloaked woman was thrown across the floor, tumbling head over heels.
She just about made it to her hands before I was on her.
She looked fit and lean, but I was a dragonmancer, and I was not in the fucking mood for games. I felt hard muscle under me as I pressed her to the cold stone floor, unceremoniously wrenching her arms behind her back.
Gabby arrived a moment later and produced a strip of rope he had procured from somewhere. With the consummate skill that he did everything, the mute bound the cloaked woman’s hands tightly behind her, while I held her and stopped her furious thrashing.
“You might be a fucking bearmancer, but we’re dragonmancers of the Mystocean Empire. And you have what I need to save my son,” I growled into her ear.
Firmly, but without any vindictiveness, I pulled the woman easily to her feet. I leaned in close, eager to get my hands on the crystals at her belt, and she tried to headbutt me with the speed of a striking cobra.
Unfortunately for her, she connected.
When my squad and I had been testing out just how strong the Transfusion Ceremony had made me, Rupert had struck me over the back of the dome with a sturdy length of wood. He had also stabbed me in the bicep with a dagger.
Neither test had proved effective.
There was a hollow thud as I allowed the woman to try and brain me with her noggin, and the cloaked figure went limp in my arms.
Puffing a little as he jogged up, Bjorn said, “See, I knew that your head was bone all the way through, boss.”
Gabby cracked a grin at that one.
“Laugh it up while you can, big man,” I said as I pulled the crystals off the belt of the woman who had slumped unconscious at my feet, ”because you’re carrying her until she wakes up.”
Bjorn’s grin slid off his face like porridge down a wall.
Once I had retrieved the two crystals, I tucked them into the pockets of my breeches. Gabby cut another length of rope and bound the woman’s feet.
“What about her c-c-crystal?” Rupert asked, nodding at the still cloaked bearmancer.
“I got the crystals,” I said.
“No, her c-c-crystal,” Rupert said. “As a bearmancer, she must have a crystal in which she stores her bear, just as you do to store Noctis and Garth.”
I blinked, feeling a little foolish that I had not thought of this myself.
Searching the woman, I found a likely looking crystal, carved into the shape of a miniature bear claw, hanging from a twine bracelet around her wrist.
“That would be the one, I am guessing,” Renji said, peering with interest at the gray stone.
Jazmyn held out her hands to me, and I saw that she was carrying this strange black bag, which looked to have been made from ultra-fine, black chainmail.
When I asked her what the bag was for, as it was obviously for something in particular, my bodyguard said, “It is a highly powerful magical object this bag, very fuckin’ powerful indeed. It is enchanted with an anti-magic forcefield on the inside and stops a dragonmancer—or any mancer—from being able to communicate with the stone in which their soul companion resides.”
“Why would you need something like that?” I asked.
Jazmyn swapped a quick, uncomfortable glance with Ashrin, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
“We of the Twelve are often called to hunt down rogue dragonmancers,” she said in a low voice. “You could say that that is the very reason why the Twelve were formed all those years ago.”
“Rogue dragonma
ncers?” Renji asked in a disbelieving voice. Her lips were parted in incredulity, showing a sliver of her bright silver teeth.
“Yes, they exist,” Ashrin said, her voice cold and dangerous. “And no, they do not live long after they choose to forsake the Empire.”
Chapter 16
With the crystals—the Etherstones—stowed safely on my person, I prepared for a hasty exit. I summoned Garth into my Leg Slot so that the Pearl Dragon appeared in front of us.
The deep pink fronds surrounding his rose-colored head pulsed more quickly than was usual, mirroring the young dragon’s excitement—and, I supposed, my own. Outwardly though, Garth remained fairly impassive and cool, not showing much sign of his relative immaturity. I had a notion that it was, partly, to impress Noctis.
“It is not, Dad,” Garth said, latching on to the tail end of this thought.
I grinned and thought back, “Sure it’s not.”
I got the distinct impression that Garth viewed Noctis as something of a hero figure mixed with an older brother. Noctis was far older, far more experienced, and far more battle-tried than Garth. As we shared one headspace, I figured the Onyx Dragon had probably been sharing tidbits of advice with Garth on some other plane of thought that I was not privy to.
I climbed onto Garth’s back and slapped him affectionately on his thick, muscled neck a few times.
“You feeling fit?” I asked him aloud.
The Pearl Dragon let loose a short, sarcastic rumble from deep in his chest: the audible dragon equivalent of “Does Sofia Vergara sleep on her back?”
“Good,” I said, “because we need to make some serious ground.”
I glanced around at the gathered dragonmancers and squad members, at Diggens Azee and Will.
“I owe all of you a drink,” I said, “and a lot more. Right now though, I’ve got to get my ass and these crystals back to base and on to Wayne.”
“Mike,” Ashrin said, stepping forward, “General Shiloh’s orders mean that Jaz and I have to come with—”
“I’ll be fine,” I said firmly. “I’m heading straight up the tunnel and then back to the base of the mountain. Besides, I have Garth and Noctis. Nothing is going to stop me getting this crystal back to Wayne. You guys focus on getting everyone out of here alive, and make sure that nothing happens to the prisoner.”
Ashrin opened her mouth to protest again, but before she could say anything, I gave Garth a nudge in the ribs and the Pearl Dragon sprang away.
He ran like a cheetah through the doors of the temple, muscles bunching and stretching before he jumped into the air and snapped open his wings.
“You call that speed?” I asked, narrowing my eyes against the intensity of the wind. I hunkered down closer to his back so that the wall of building wind resistance didn’t tear me from my perch.
Garth growled as he ripped toward the tunnel entrance like a rocket-propelled falcon.
“Old man,” he said, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
We shot into the mouth of the tunnel, so close to the ground that Garth’s beating wingtips were almost brushing the floor. Dust and grit blasted up and around us, swirling out behind Garth in a vortex as we raced onward and upward, heading for the surface.
* * *
Our emergence back into the light, and back into the milling military town surrounding the base of Galipolas Mountain, was about as unobtrusive as a clown arriving drunk to a funeral.
Garth and I blasted out of the main mine entrance in a cloud of dust and loose stones and headed for the main street. So fast and low was Garth flying, he overturned a cart simply by flying too near to it. The empty, horseless cart, parked at the back of one of the clapboard buildings and awaiting loading, was spun into the air by the vortices left in the dragon’s wake. It crashed, upside down, onto the dirt track, sending splinters and bits of woods flying into the air.
“Sorry!” I called as we shot past.
As we neared the tents in which I and the other dragonmancers had been quartered, I spotted Saya sitting outside one of them, staring pensively into the campfire and sipping from a mug.
I pulled Garth back into his crystal in midair, but carried on flying through the air myself, propelled by sheer impetus. I dropped, hit the ground hard, and rolled to my feet, coming to a skidding halt some ten yards from the fire.
“I’ll give you an eight for the dismount,” Saya said as I hurried up.
Not bothering to answer, I pulled the two Etherstones out of my pocket and held them up.
“Holy shit,” Saya said.
“Where is Elenari?” I asked. “Where’s Wayne?”
Saya jerked her thumb at the tent behind her.
“Hurry,” she said.
I ripped the tent flap open and strode inside. Elenari was sitting on a pallet bed cradling Wayne. The dragonling was so small now. He had shrunk to a size that enabled him to fit into Elenari’s palm. He was the pale gray of the purest ash.
Elenari looked up miserably when she heard me enter. When she saw who it was, though, her face contorted into a slight frown of puzzlement.
“Mike…” she said.
I ignored her for the moment, simply showing her the crystals as I held them up and looked from one to another. One was a gray color, with smoke swirling inside it. The other was a vibrant blue, with flashes of what looked like lightning flickering in its depths.
Briefly, I wondered whether the kind of crystal I bonded the dragonling to would affect what kind of dragon Wayne would turn into. Or was he already a certain breed or type and did the stone just cement it? It didn’t really matter, and I didn’t really give it much thought. All that mattered, all that I cared about right then was hurrying up and getting the whole process sorted so that I could save mine and Elenari’s son.
I held out the gray Etherstone to the tiny dragon.
With a pathetic slowness that twisted my heart to see, Wayne raised his head and regarded the crystal.
“All right, buddy,” I said, kneeling down so that I was on a level with the dragonling, “I’m just going to need you to do your thing—melt this crystal, hoover it up, and then you’ll be good to go.”
Wayne looked up at me and blinked. Even that blink seemed to cost the poor little creature almost more energy than he had left in the tank. He turned his pale gray head, no bigger than the end of my thumb now and regarded the stone that I held in my hand.
Motioning to Elenari, we set both dragonling and Etherstone on the floor.
“Go on, Wayne,” I urged. “You’ve got this.”
Elenari and I stood back a little, just in case Wayne overcooked it.
Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that Wayne going overboard with his Etherstone melting was not something we had to worry about.
The dragonling raised his little head in its green bean thin neck and stared down at the Etherstone. He opened his mouth and wheezed in a breath. A few desultory sparks shot out of his little maw.
And that, it seemed, was that.
“Shit,” I said.
“Shit,” Elenari said, in a voice choked with worry.
Wayne looked at me. His eyes were tiny black gems set in his gray head, but small as they were, I could see the weariness in them.
I leaned down close to the little creature, putting my mouth right down near his head so that only he—not even Elenari—could hear my words.
“You can do this, Wayne. This is your all or nothing. You might be small, you might feel weak right now, but you are fierce. I know it. I see it. Everyone thinks that courage and toughness voice themselves as mighty roars and bellows from mountaintops but, sometimes, it’s the little voices whispering a few little words of encouragement that make all the difference. You might feel like you’ve got nothing left, but that’s precisely when you have to dig deepest and see this through.”
The little dragonling locked eyes with me, his tiny head weaving drunkenly on his scrawny neck.
“Just get on with it,” I said, “and then we c
an go sort out this world, you and I.”
I stepped back, crossing my fingers in my pocket.
Wayne turned back to the gray Etherstone, cocked his head to one side, and filled his lungs.
The beam of fire that poured from his maw was as bright and as intense as a welding torch.
Elenari and I, dragonmancers though we were, were forced to shield our eyes with our hands. Wayne let loose with every last ounce of power and flame that he had left. I could not see it, but I could hear the crack and bubble as the dragonling’s fire broke the crystal down, reducing it to a pool of melted glass.
When the glare had faded from the tent walls, I opened my eyes and looked down. To my relief, I saw Wayne slowly but steadily sucking up the melted gray liquid that had previously been the Etherstone, his throat contracting as he gulped the volcanically hot rock down. I watched the dragonling carefully as he licked the last remnants of the Etherstone off the dirt floor, curled into a tiny ball, and settled down.
“All right,” I said to Elenari, “you know what happens next. I think we best leave him be for half an hour or so.”
“Can’t we stay and make sure that he cocoons into rock like Garth did?” she asked.
“I think that it would be better if we just left him to his own devices for a little while,” I said gently, taking her by the arm and leading her to the tent opening. “Let’s go and sit with Saya. We’ll come back and check on Wayne later.”
Privately, I was thinking that I’d try and sneak back in on my own in a little while, while Saya distracted Elenari. If Wayne hadn’t made it… Well, I didn’t really want Elenari having to see that.
The two of us walked outside and found Saya waiting for us, her face a mask of tightly controlled worry.
“How did it go?” the blonde warrior asked.
Elenari hugged Saya, as I said, “He managed to melt and consume the crystal, but it looked like it cost him more than he had to give almost. We just have to wait now and see how he goes.”
