When Dragons Die- The Complete Trilogy Box Set

by K. Scott Lewis

  Cloudmoore smoked. There was now a giant hole in the gnomish city through which the light had descended from the sky. It started to list to the side.

  Tindron pulled himself to his feet.

  The corn-silk wizard frowned. “You missed!” he accused. “You were supposed to destroy the central tower. How long before we can do this again?”

  “The first part of the rite took me eight hours to prepare,” Tindron snapped. “Have the others defend the camp while I get ready for the next strike.”

  Eszhira knew exactly what she must do. The raven-haired seelie, still invisible, softly walked up behind Tindron as he began chanting. The other wizards looked at him angrily, but they obeyed. They issued orders to the surrounding guards and troops and took to the skies, transforming into blazing comets to defend their camp, even as a swarm of gyrothopters emerged from the drifting Cloudmoore to descend upon them.

  Tindron focused intently. Eszhira wondered if he would even have noticed her had she been visible. Well, she wouldn’t remain unseen for much longer.

  He started to prepare the initial rites to the complex spell, and she knew she had to act quickly before he gathered too much unstable magical power. She drew her daggers and stepped up behind him. In one fluid movement, she dropped back into phase with the visible world, put her left arm around his narrow shoulders, and then sliced through the soft skin of his neck from ear to ear. He gurgled, and red blood spilled over his chest and onto the ground.

  Interesting, she mused in a detached thought. Their blood is red. Seelie blood was green.

  None of the other sidhe wizards noticed. They had left him to his work, and their attention was focused outwards on the squadron of gnomish battlethopters which had opened fire on them with their lightning cannons.

  Eszhira faded back into invisibility and slipped away.

  * * *

  After the meeting, Anuit lingered on the docks while Arda returned to God Spire with Donogan. The lone rowboat with the goddess, the sultan, the orc, and the severe seelie woman slowly made its way back to the fleet. She had a bad feeling about them. There won’t be a second meeting, she realized.

  “Indeed not,” Belham agreed. He floated beside her.

  She gave him only a passing glance as she stared at the sultan’s fleet. The largest galleons had four levels of cannons, and for each galleon there was a complement of smaller ships. She wondered how many troops each ship held.

  “There’s a lot of them,” she commented.

  “Everyone wants Artalon’s power,” Belham remarked.

  “We must take it,” Anuit stated. “We can’t afford—”

  “You must take it,” he said.

  She regarded him for a moment. “Yes,” she affirmed. She knew Arda wouldn’t have the strength to do what must be done. Arda was pure, and in many ways stronger than Anuit. But she was good, despite her salty edge. “I’m not sure the others see the need to control the gods.” She did. Coexistence with them would not be enough. She wasn’t sure Arda realized that.

  “Look,” Bryona said. She appeared beside Anuit, making no effort to hide her demonic appearance. The succubus’s tail, wings, horns, and cloven feet were there for anyone to witness. Anuit didn’t care so much anymore. She was who she was, and Kaldor had told her she had to see this path through to its end. Arda accepted her, and she had stopped trying to hide her art. If one thing Aradma had said was true, it was be true to your nature. Oriand had told her the same. Your nature is the truth of your being.

  The ratling fleet of airships descended on the northern shore of the peninsula, unloading thousands of trolls. When an airship delivered the Vemnai forces, it returned to the skies. Once the ratling fleet had completed its delivery, Anuit noted that no ratling forces were among the ground presence of the Vemnai. Smaller ratling air shuttles then departed the fleet and flew to Cloudmoore.

  They’re separating from the trolls, she thought. They’ve done what they were paid to do.

  She heard the far-off cracks of cannon fire.

  “Duck!” Bryona shouted, and she grabbed Anuit, pulling the sorceress down to the deck as a cannonball flew overhead, impacting the stone wall fifty feet behind them. The sultan’s fleet had opened fire.

  “Well, I guess we weren’t lucky enough for that fleet to similarly separate from the orcs,” Anuit shouted.

  More cannon fire fell on the city, and she could see hundreds of landing craft filled with orcs coming towards them across the water from the fleet.

  “Fuck me,” she muttered, borrowing one of Arda’s phrases, and then ran into the city to rejoin the paladin.

  * * *

  Arda looked around frantically for Anuit when the cannon fire started.

  “Well, so much for dinner!” King Leiham shouted cheerily. “We’ll be killing orcs tonight!” He started barking orders to his men, sending word for his army to hasten their entry into the city. Donogan also turned to his captains, issuing instructions.

  “Damn it!” Arda shouted as a cannonball hit the side of God Spire and bounced off the zorium plating, ricocheting into the streets. “Anuit, where are you?!”

  “I’m here!” the sorceress yelled, running up the street and panting loudly. Her two demons flew behind her. Anuit stopped and muttered as she caught her breath, hands on knees, “I knew I should have brought my bloody flying carpet.”

  “We’d better join the wall defenses,” Arda stated.

  Anuit looked up from her breath-catching and nodded. She straightened.

  BOOM!THwaaaaat!

  The shockwave from the horrid sounds knocked them both from their feet. Arda caught herself hard on the ground on the palms of her hands as the sound of an explosion from two blocks away followed the flash of purple light from the heavens. Glass filled the streets, but the impact was far away enough that neither of them were hurt.

  “What the fuck was that?” Arda shouted. Her ears were still ringing.

  Anuit shook her head. “I don’t know,” the sorceress replied.

  Overhead, a squadron of gnomish battlethopters launched, making a beeline to the northeastern suburbs outside the city. Lightning cannons flared, and a sidhe swarm of blue and red fire rose up to meet them. Battlethopters started dropping to the streets like dead mosquitos.

  “Come with me!” Anuit shouted. She darted inside God Spire. Arda hesitated, but then followed the sorceress and her two demons.

  “Did you forget something?” Arda asked as they waited for the lift.

  “Yes,” Anuit said. “Trust me, it will save time.”

  Of course. The carpet.

  Arda nodded and followed her lover up the lift back to their apartment. Anuit spread the carpet out on the balcony and then took Arda’s hand. The carpet launched into the air, and Arda’s duster flapped in the rushing of air as they dove off the balcony towards the docks where orcs had already started to land. Arda’s tricorne was blown off her head, but the leather thong around her neck caught it, saving her from having to find it later. She bent low on her knees, for even though the magic of the carpet kept them relatively stable against the speed and sudden turns, the visual experience was still a rush.

  They landed on the docks as the human men and women of Hammerfold and the dwarven men and women of Farstkeld clashed with the orc warriors pouring out of the landing craft. Some of the humans burst into wolven form as they entered the fray.

  The orcs fought with swords and axes, along with short, stocky firearms filled with buckshot. It was not long before casualties from both sides littered the docks.

  Orcs rushed the two of them. Anuit shifted into her half-demon form, claws and teeth erupting and liquid shadows coiling about inky skin. She opened her fingers, and bolts of dark energy shot forth, blasting the first orc back. He fell to the ground a withered husk, his life force drained by the Void.

  That didn’t stop his comrades. Their battle lust overcame any fear they might have felt at her display of dark magic. In the distance, Arda could see the or
c leader, Thorkhan, tossing humans and dwarves aside like rag dolls. He whirled with a single-edged sword, not unlike her own, with delicate expertise that belied his muscular form. She had expected to see a more brutish style of attack from him, but instead she watched the work of a master swordsman. His seelie companion, Seonna, fought at his back, scimitar and shield in hand, laying open both human and dwarf at her feet.

  And then the orcs were upon them, and Arda had no more time to think about the two chiefs of the Gaimar tribes. Her hands flew forward with her revolvers. She unloaded all six shots in each, and then her fingers flew in a blur as she reloaded. She fired again before a new wave of orcs could close the distance. Bryona’s parasol blade and Anuit’s dark magic gave her enough breathing room to keep reloading.

  Soon even that was not enough. The orc warriors kept coming, and Arda drew her sword. She fought side by side with Anuit, who had turned to using her clawed demon hands. Arda parried and wove with her blade, and Anuit caught the enemy weapons in her claws, casting them aside as she tore their throats open with her fingers and sometimes her teeth.

  The orc landing was too thick, and the forces of Hammerfold and Farstkeld were pressured into surrendering the docks as they withdrew back into the city. Arda and Anuit retreated with them, fighting as they went.

  Anuit grabbed Arda and jerked her to the side. Arda looked down and saw the carpet beneath her feet. The sorceress willed the carpet high so quickly that Arda’s stomach seemed to rush out through her feet, and she dropped to a crouch.

  Anuit guided the carpet back to God Spire. Their allies had withdrawn, and for now the orcs seemed content to hold the docks.

  Something else was wrong. Sun warmed the top of her head.

  Cloudmoore!

  The gnomish city was no longer above them. It too had been hit by the beam of arcane energy that had shattered the tower. It listed at a forty-five-degree angle and drifted away from the city towards the sea. With a sickening thump, it fell into the water, taking some of the sultan’s fleet with it. Ratling zeppelins mobilized towards the sinking city.

  Anuit put her hands over her mouth and gasped. “Oh, Arda! What are we going to do?”

  Arda touched the small of her back and urged her inside God Spire.

  “We fight,” the paladin replied grimly. “The war for Artalon has begun.”

  13 - The Secret in the Mountains

  It was not a week after Tiberan’s conversation with Esteri about the impending winter that the first snow fell. It started as a gentle drizzle of rain at first, enduring long enough to coat everything with an outer layer of watery dampness, but then the cold wind came from over the waters of the White Sea. Rain turned to sleet and then snow as the wetness that had already fallen froze to hard ice.

  Tiberan and Keira stood at the forest edge on the slopes of the foothills. He had found her hunting in her black-furred wolven form, and she had shifted back to her human body when she saw him approach. She no longer smelled angry, even though she acted it. Her scent was more that of embarrassment than actual anger. Still, he needed to speak with her. Winter had come, and he still hadn’t been able to find her alone to talk in private.

  The Glavlunders had given them both thick coats of yeti fur for the winter. Tiberan was glad he was wearing his today, for it made the cold bearable. In the coming months it would get much colder still. He understood why the Glavlunders revered the concept of family enough to enshrine it as a symbolic hearth. It kept away the cold.

  When Keira shifted, she absorbed the thick yeti coat into long, shaggy fur, making her look twice as large in her wolven form as she actually was. She waited for him under the pines, holding her fur coat tightly around her. She lifted the hood from her shoulders and covered her head. Tiberan stopped a few paces in front of her, and they stood in silence together, just looking at each other for some moments before he finally spoke.

  “Winter is here,” he said at last.

  She nodded.

  “I need to speak with you.”

  She sighed, and a puff of frosty breath shot from her mouth. “I know,” she said. “She spoke to me too.” She regarded him coolly. “I don’t want any of the men here,” she said, “and I’m not ready to get married. They call it by different words, but it’s the same thing.”

  Tiberan nodded.

  “I want your friendship, Tiberan,” she told him. “The last time we linked through… through whatever it is you do with animals, you saw something you weren’t meant to see.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “You know a part of me wants more than friendship,” she continued, “but that can’t happen. I know your heart still longs for her, and that must go its natural course. But if I’m to spend a winter with a companion, I’d rather it be you, my dear friend, and Ghost. Not a stranger who would want more from me than I can give.”

  Tiberan nodded. “I feel the same. It troubles me that you’re angry with me.”

  “I’m not upset anymore,” she said. “I was embarrassed, not angry. I know you didn’t mean to pry. I will hunt by your side, even as I will be your hearthmaker. They expect me to hunt as the wolf and make the hearth as a woman, but I will only be the wolf with you.”

  She paused for a moment. “I want to share that link again—I have no more secrets to hide—for I want to speak with Ghost and Cloudpaw as well. I’ve spent a lot of time with the Hearthmakers Circle, and even though I’ve learned some of the language, I still feel cut off. I won’t abide being cut off in my own hearth, the only one who can’t communicate through the connection you make with us. And,” she added, “knowing what you know about my feelings, you will not be tempted to take advantage of my heart while I am the wolf.”

  His face warmed into a wide grin. “Surely not,” he agreed.

  She shifted into her wolven form, her black fur long and shaggy, almost like a sheepdog. Tiberan grinned again.

  “I will be your hearthmaker, then,” she told him in that deeper velvety voice. “We will keep the fire of friendship against the long winter night. And we will hunt.”

  Tiberan’s feelings of warmth and cheer at repairing the bond of friendship with her—he had been unaware as to how important that had become to him—was suddenly overshadowed by a great sense of unease. He opened up his senses, and he felt humanoid lifeforms moving underground beneath their feet.

  His eyes narrowed, and at first Keira looked taken aback until he whispered, “Beneath us. Troglodytes. They’re moving quickly.”

  He hurried off over the forest ground, following their trail. She immediately followed, shifting briefly to take the sidhe daggers in her hands and then back again into wolven form to absorb the blades and enhance her claws’ length and sharpness. He found her in the bond, reestablishing the earlier link.

  Tiberan ran at a slow jog to keep on them as they moved quickly towards the mountains. Though the troglodytes underneath the ground didn’t follow it exactly, their course for the most part followed a valley path that wound deeper into the mountains. Tiberan was glad for the fur coat despite its weight, for soon they were high up enough in elevation where deep snows survived the summer.

  Keira followed close behind him. In her wolven form, she did not tire easily. He was able to share with her his impressions of the moving forms beneath the ground. There are many of them, she noted.

  The path narrowed, and the mountain slope on both sides grew forbiddingly steep. The troglodyte trail split from the path and turned into the rising mountainside.

  The two of them stopped.

  They’re going into the mountains, Tiberan thought. What is their purpose?

  We should tell the others.

  I agree. The two companions turned back to hurry towards Glavlund.

  The tribe was already starting to thin as the snow kept its gentle fall. Tents were being taken down, and some hearths had already departed for the plains. Esteri and Henriki were packing their bags on their giant wolves, and Illeski and his hear
thmaker, the man called Osku, were quietly arguing about which way their modest belongings should be arranged in order to make the most room. Cloudpaw and Ghost were lazing nearby, waiting for Tiberan’s return.

  “Are you ready to go into winter’s heart?” Illeski called out to Tiberan through the wind. He noted Keira in her wolven form, but made no comment. The wind tugged her long fur, and ice particles had collected on its tips.

  “I am,” Tiberan said. “We will make a hearth together.”

  Esteri chuckled. “See, I told you,” she grinned across the way at Illeski. “Now pay up.”

  Illeski raised his hands sheepishly and reached into one of the bags, pulling out a bottle of dwarven vodka.

  Osku groaned, “You didn’t bet that away, did you?”

  Illeski shrugged at his hearthmaker and walked over to Esteri and Henriki. He handed the bottle to her and said, “I should know better than to make bets with a witch.”

  Henriki grinned and took it from him, placing it in one of Esteri’s saddlebags. “Osku’s not a bad witch,” he remarked. “Probably why we bet against you and not him.”

  “There’s something else,” Tiberan interrupted. “I felt troglodytes moving beneath the ground again.”

  By this time, Tiberan had spent enough time in the Hunters Circle that they had come to trust his uncanny sense of animals’ and people’s movements, not to mention his word. Illeski and Esteri traded another secret look.

  “What is in the mountains?” Tiberan asked. “They are here with a purpose, and their purpose is there beneath the peaks.”

  Illeski was about to open his mouth, but Esteri cut him off with a glance. “We were sworn to secrecy,” she said.

  “By whom?”

  Her eyes shifted to the ground.

  “It was he who made you swear, wasn’t it?” Tiberan pressed. “It was Valkrage, the only other elf who has come this far north.”

  Esteri nodded.

  “If Valkrage came and went into the mountains, I would have you tell me,” he told her. His voice rang true and deep, and there would be no denying him. “Valkrage came on Dragons’ business. The troglodytes served the Black. If they are here, it is on Dragons’ business. I bear an ember of the Green Dragon’s soul within me, and Dragons’ business is my business. So again, I ask you. What is it that lies within the mountains?”