Dragon Tide Omnibus 2)

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  “The scale operates very simply. Your ghosts will come to you and judge you. You must bear their judgment. If you leave the scale before the key is given, you forfeit your chance to win. If you ask to stop, then you forfeit the right. If you kill or harm the other test-taker, then you forfeit. If you crack under the pressure, you forfeit. Whoever endures will receive the key.”

  Well, that seemed simple enough.

  “Do both parties understand?”

  We nodded.

  “What about the people we brought with us?” Atura asked. “Why are they frozen?”

  “They are only frozen to you,” Gautm. “Time works differently here. Your test will take but seconds in their world.”

  My eyes went large. So, there would be no help or hindrance from outside the test. I wet my lips nervously and braced for the test and my eyes wandered to Heron. Bataar said my love for him would give me wings. But did it even exist now that he no longer did?

  Yes, I realized. It did. And it always would, whether he ever remembered me or not. I let myself smile, drawing in the last memory I had of his willing embrace. I would be courageous. I would be strong. And I would save Nasataa and keep Heron close for as long as it took to heal him.

  “I want – ” Atura began, but this time Gautm cut her off.

  “The test begins now.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Around me, the world seemed to fade away. If Atura was saying anything, I couldn’t hear it. If Hubric or Gautm or anyone else was still there, I couldn’t see them. It was as if the door on the basket had closed even though my legs were still hanging out of it. I braced for what was to come. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than Heron’s loss or Hubric’s.

  Octon appeared as if out of clouds of black smoke. He smiled at me.

  “I guess I’m the first ghost to haunt you, Seleska.” He placed a hand on the basket. “After all, I died because of you. If you hadn’t landed on my doorstep, Atura wouldn’t have hunted me down and killed me.”

  “I’m so sorry!” I said. “I never meant that to happen.”

  And now I realized what this test was. Every person whose life ended because of me would come to weigh me in this basket, to put on me the weight of what I’d done to them. And I deserved all of it. I tried to look at Heron through the fog and remember what Bataar said. He’d said that Heron would be my wings – and then he’d talked about love, and yes my love for him made me strong, but maybe I should actually be thinking about his advice to me – that I shouldn’t be trying to do it all on my own. That I should look to others.

  “And you swallowed my stone,” Octon said seriously. I felt my basket pulled down just a little.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, covering my face with my hands. I didn’t think Octon was going to be a help to me, but maybe I could have the courage to bear the shame of what had happened to him.

  “But I don’t actually blame you, though I am your ghost.”

  “You don’t?” I braved a look through my fingers to see him smiling slightly. “I’d rather fight alongside you – even as a ghost than fight on the side of the daughter of the Saaasalla.I’m not here to cast blame. I’m here to forgive.”

  And these were my wings – the advice of Heron – the support of someone else.

  “Thank you, Octon,” I said, truly touched.

  “I would fight alongside you, too,” a second voice rang out.

  “Vyvera!” I gasped. “Damokas!”

  They joined Octon at my basket. Vyvera looked proud.

  “You don’t have many ghosts to face, Seleska,” she said as a pair of Bubblers took one glance at my basket and shook their heads. They disappeared again into the smoke.

  “Did I kill them?” I asked, worriedly.

  “They blame Atura for her orders, not you,” Octon explained.

  “I blame her, too!” Samrin said with a hearty laugh as he joined us and now I was crying as two dragons – one bright and Silver and the other gnarled and Purple came out of the smoke.

  “Samrin!” I said, choking on his name. “Tharrac! Kyrowat! I never wanted you to die. You gave so much for us.”

  “And I’d do it again,” Samrin said and his smile was so genuine – all of their smiles were – that I felt a deep weight growing in my chest. It grounded me, made me stable, filled me up.

  A huge shape moved through the smoke and now I really did choke on a sob as the big head leaned down close, closing his eyes as he breathed me in.

  Ramariri!

  Seleska. You have made me so proud.

  If I could have heard any voice say that, it would have been his.

  But before I could compose myself to speak, they were already drawing back into the smoke again.

  “Where are you going?” I gasped.

  “We came to help you, not to haunt you. Most of us must cast our blame at the feet of Atura. We had but a moment to tell you how proud we were,” Vyvera said with a smile.

  And to offer you our forviveness, Kyrowat added. There is power in forgiveness. A power we are giving to you.

  And then they were gone, disappearing into the smoke.

  I expected a bright burst of sparks or a flash of light, but instead, the dark fog simply blew away in a gust of wind and I saw Gautm crooking a finger at me.

  In front of my eyes, in the last of the trailing mist, a sentence written in black smoke was already blowing away along with a smoke arrow pointing right.

  Courage in the face of death and before those whose deaths you have wrought: this is the key.

  I blinked and a blinding pain filled my mind and then all traces of the message were gone.

  Was it really so simple? It had hardly been a test at all. But maybe that was because my friends had carried the burden. Forgiveness was no easy task. I knew that. And all of them had forgiven me freely. My grief had been less with Olfijum sharing it with me. Maybe my trials were lessened by the help of my dead come to support me one more time. Lessened by the power of their forgiveness.

  I left the basket, and as I stood, I looked over at Atura’s basket.

  Spirits were packed four or five deep around Atura, their eyes harsh and angry in the twilight of this world. I could not hear their accusations, but I saw their mouths moving, saw Atura shrinking into the basket, looking smaller and smaller.

  I slid between the spirits, leaning down to snatch the glowing rock from where it had landed at her feet. When this was over, I wanted her to remember her deal – and I doubted she would. Maybe I could use this as a bargaining chip.

  I turned to join Gautm, slipping between the ghosts that haunted Atura.

  “Your courage has been tested and the key awarded,” Gautm intoned as I approached him. His face looked concerned despite his congratulatory words. “But hurry, child. The test is designed so that anyone with sufficient courage may pass the test. Just because your rival’s ghosts are more demanding, does not mean that she will fail.”

  And then he disappeared, and so did the ghosts and it was just me in the middle of a bunch of shocked Bubblers and Manticores.

  Grab Nasataa! I screamed in my mind, but Olfijum was already barreling toward me as if he’d already guessed what I was going to ask.

  I saw a scream form on Heron’s lips as I sprinted forward and leapt in front of him onto Olfijum’s back.

  Olfijum spun while I still had nothing more than a single foot in the stirrup and one hand on the saddle. He leapt in the air, wings catching the wind at the same moment that the first Manticore roared.

  Olfijum twisted, reaching outward as his claws caught Nasataa’s cage and he flapped his wings hard, climbing for all he was worth.

  Around us, the Manticores rose with us, snapping at Olfijum’s feet and Nastaa’s cage.

  “Atura!” Heron called. “Atura! Please don’t let them take me!”

  “Quiet,” I demanded, throwing my leg over the saddle finally. My hands were too full with the red glowing rock and the Dragon Staff in them.

  “
ATURA!” he called louder.

  All my disappointment and frustration came bubbling up to the surface. If he couldn’t be my friend, my lover, my sweet Heron, could he at least not ruin everything?

  I just needed him to stop calling her. I just needed him to stop being this non-Heron!

  He opened his mouth to call again and in a fit of pique I slapped my hand over it.

  But I’d forgotten I had the stone in my hand.

  My eyes widened at the same time his did – at the same time that I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

  “Ooops,” I said.

  Episode Eight: Rock Eaters

  Chapter One

  Did you get the key? Nasataa asked in my mind.

  Yes, I had. Two keys down, three to go. But this key wouldn’t be worth anything if we couldn’t fly out of the World of Legends. I let go of Heron’s mouth, shocked at what I’d just done. I hadn’t realized that the glowing red rock was still in my hand when I clapped it over his mouth to silence him.

  He looked stunned – and no wonder considering that he’d just swallowed the tide-cursed thing! But he wasn’t choking. He was still alive. That had to count for something.

  This was all spiraling out of control. What had I done?

  I can’t see the door.

  Wind flapped my hair in a flurry as Olfijum flew around one of the hanging islands, gliding toward where the doorway had been when we arrived. He was right.

  He rose up in the air over the island, trying to get a better look, just like I was. My gaze skittered over the huge scales where Atura was still being weighed, over the Manticores almost on our heels, over the strange islands and bridges. But there was no sign of the doorway at all. How did you get out of this place?

  My heart was already racing and a burning sensation began behind my eyes. I just needed a minute to think about this – just a spark of inspiration. How did you find a doorway if it wasn’t where you left it?

  My arms itched and I thought about the Ko that Tor had given me. They granted access to this world. Did they also grant exit from it?

  I closed my eyes and concentrated on them and felt a pull upward.

  “I think it’s higher up!” I called.

  I feel that tug in your brain. Let me try to follow it.

  I glanced backward and gasped. The nearest Manticore was only a dragon-length behind us. When we got to the doorway, there wouldn’t be time to fuss with it. We’d just have to fly through it and hope it was open.

  “Hurry!” I said, feeling the thud of my heart as it raced in my chest. I needed to calm it down before it exploded.

  “These islands are the strangest I’ve ever seen,” Heron said, an odd tone to his voice.

  I ignored him. I didn’t have enough mental space to deal with his memory loss and this situation at the same time. I could mourn over the fact that he’d pled for Atura when all this was over.

  There! I see it!

  I swallowed, heart in my throat. Could we reach it in time?

  Olfijum surged forward, flapping his wings so powerfully that I could sense he was putting everything into this flight.

  Don’t you think it’s weird that the door has moved?

  What wasn’t weird about this whole journey? Whose big idea was this quest anyway? Oh, we’ll make a special magic place and then we’ll hide keys everywhere and test the people who have to go find them. But, our tests won’t be that great. Any awful person will be able to slip through them.

  Sarcasm aside, I think Atura is cheating.

  Well, the tests weren’t very good if you could cheat at them.

  How do you know they aren’t good? Maybe they give her false keys?

  I hadn’t thought of that.

  The door was just ahead of us now and we’d gained on the Manticore. He had paused to look backward at something happening at the scale. Good. We could use a few extra seconds.

  Here we go!

  We plunged through the doorway and I inhaled a deep breath of relief. It had felt like I was being slowly cooked back there, dropped in a pot that was coming to a boil. And now we were free of it.

  I felt the familiar feeling of ice and pain and then it was gone, and we shot out into a different world – our own world.

  “What is this place?” Heron asked in wonder, as if we hadn’t just been in this world of ice and snow an hour ago.

  “Ko’Loska in Ko’Torenth,” I said absently, but my mind was somewhere else. Something wasn’t right.

  How long had we been in that doorway? It couldn’t have been more than an hour at the most, could it? But it looked like a lot longer here.

  Fires ravaged the vertical city, climbing up the sides of it like red vines. Clouds of smoke filled the air, obscuring my vision and choking me. But that wasn’t the worst of it. It was only decoration compared to the rest.

  This city was built as if someone had purposely made it vulnerable to Manticore attack. It was built against the mountain in tiers and each tier had a road of sorts on the outside and buildings on the inside, built into the mountain. Each road and building was built literally on top of the next so that the city was more built in layers than anything else.

  It would have been spectacular and beautiful under normal circumstances. Under these circumstances, it was horribly vulnerable. No one could escape without exposing themselves to the Manticores flying from level to level and our enemy was taking advantage of the situation. Manticores flung people from the streets and buildings, plucking them from the ground and tossing them out over the huge drop like bears picking through an anthill.

  I shuddered as the screams finally made sense to me and the horror of the scene below washed over me. What would you do if you were a mother down there with children? If you hid, the flames would take you. If you ran, the Manticores would fling you to your death.

  This wasn’t right!

  The Ko’roi is fighting it.

  Why were they doing this? This attack – this horrific act – wasn’t necessary. They didn’t need to destroy these people!

  We need to get Nasataa out of the cage or he will be vulnerable to attacks.

  Yes, yes of course.

  We can’t fight them on our own. None of us are warriors and I am overloaded. Let the Ko’roi do what he can.

  At least Olfijum was keeping his head. He set the cage down on the rampart surrounding the doorway. It was the same place we’d first arrived at in Ko’Loska.

  “We don’t have tools to open that cage,” Heron said.

  “Don’t pretend to be on our side now, Heron,” I snapped.

  He flinched like I’d slapped him.

  I hated that I’d made him flinch, but I was out of patience. There were so many dying below because of Atura’s allies. And Heron wanted to be with her and be her loyal dog. Maybe that wasn’t his choice, but I just didn’t have patience for his puppy-dog love for her. And I didn’t know what he’d swallowed. Maybe it would make him more her pet than ever.

  The cage won’t be a problem, Olfijum said. He was holding back because they threatened worse things if he escaped and watched him constantly. He didn’t know where we were or how to find us, but he knew we could find him.

  I knew, Nasataa added and I felt a burst of warmth at the sound of his little voice.

  As soon as he said that, Nasataa flamed hard, melting the metal bars. Olfijum leaned forward and ripped the top off of the cage with a squeal of metal.

  Nasataa fluttered out of the cage, stretching his wings experimentally.

  “I thought I was on your side,” Heron said and it sounded almost like an apology, but he seemed confused as if he wasn’t sure of his own words.

  There was a growl like a lion behind us and Olfijum leapt into the air before I could scream. The first Manticore ripped through the doorway behind us, jaws slathering as he snapped them at Olfijum’s tail.

  Chapter Two

  I tried to keep an eye on my baby dragon as we climbed up above the city, but it was hard in the c
haos of the smoke and Olfijum’s maneuvers to avoid spouts of flame and stinging sparks. Was he okay?

  I’m okay.

  Was he close?

  I’m right behind Olfijum’s right wing, Nasataa said.

  Olfijum cut in. Stop worrying about him. He’s close. Worry about the rest of this mess. What should we do? Where should we go? We didn’t plan past getting that key.

  I glanced back. The Manticore chasing us had stopped, waiting at the doorway for the rest of his friends to come through. We had a moment to figure this out. But only a moment.

  Olfijum sounded anxious and I could see why. What I’d thought was a single-sided slaughter below wasn’t quite that – dragons dove in groups down into the fray, ripping and rending Manticores whenever they came across them. As I watched, a group of five red dragons soared toward where a Manticore was snatching civilians from one of the walkways on the side of the mountain.

  The first Red dragon grabbed the Manticore’s tail, wrenching him backward and shaking like a dog. The second swooped in to pin a wing before he could fight back and then the third was there, seizing the Manticore’s throat in iron jaws.

  They half tugged, half flew his struggling body out away from the city, finally letting it loose as its struggle began to subside. He fell past the city to the chasm in the earth below.

  It was effective and terrifying, but it had also taken three dragons to handle that Manticore while the other two snatched up as many civilians as they could, overloading their dragons until they were heavy in the air. The other three joined them as a ragged guard, keeping aggressors off their friends as they attempted to carry those they’d saved out of the city.

  A pair of Manticores were already dashing toward them. If it had taken three dragons to kill one Manticore, what were they going to do when they had to defend from two?

  Sweat formed on my brow – and that was only one tiny thing I’d seen. It was as small in the scale of what was happening as a single ant trying to flee an anthill.