Origins

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Origins Page 25

by Lindsay Buroker


  Trip closed his mouth—and his mind—not wanting to invite more comments. He was already walking like a dog with its tail clenched between its legs. He forced himself to straighten his spine and look like the capable leader of a mission into a dragon’s lair. As well as a competent lover.

  Jaxi snorted into his mind. Apparently, he’d left his bank vault door ajar.

  The smooth cave floor grew uneven as the group progressed into the mountain, the rough terrain giving Trip something else to concentrate on. Sometimes, it slanted downward like a ramp, and other times, it descended in oversized stair steps. Either way, the route was usually half blocked by rubble.

  A creature flying through it wouldn’t have been bothered by the footing, and Trip, after hearing a few bats flap their wings and take off, admitted a certain envy of them. Even if his flier had been working, he couldn’t have sailed it into a mountain without worrying about coming to a spot too tight for it. Though this tunnel was broad so far, there wouldn’t have been room for him to turn a flier around.

  Rysha had mentioned once that someone with half-dragon blood might be able to shape-shift. He wondered what would be involved. Was there a workbook one could study?

  He glanced at the soulblades on his hips. It was quiet inside his mind without their commentary. He cracked his vault door open and tried to let out his curious imaginings of bats and the likelihood of shape-shifting into one. Would that be enough to prompt commentary?

  You want to turn into a bat? Jaxi asked immediately, and Trip smiled. What an ugly little creature. Have you seen one up close? They’re all squat-faced and flat-nosed with needle-like fangs.

  What would you consider an attractive winged creature? he asked.

  A dragon. Admittedly, you’d be a very small dragon. A dragonling.

  Can you not alter your mass when you shape-shift? Trip thought of the gold dragons that turned into ferrets at General Zirkander’s house.

  Mass must be conserved, Azarwrath said. When humans shifted shape in my time, it was generally into a creature of similar size, an extremely large wolf or panther or the like.

  Then how do dragons…

  Through magic, Jaxi said. Mages in the First Dragon Era hypothesized that dragons have the ability to access a parallel dimension that exists alongside our own. They can store some of their mass there.

  Yes, and if you see a human or a dragon taking the shape of something much larger than they are, it’s likely part illusion, Azarwrath said. Or they’ve drawn upon the mass of something else nearby. In my time, there was a dragon that disguised himself as a part of the emperor’s palace. It had so many spires, you see, that people rarely noticed an extra one.

  Why would he do that? Trip couldn’t imagine wanting to be an inanimate object, unless it were to spy on some meeting.

  For precisely that reason. He was an Iskandian dragon, and he listened in on the meetings going on in the throne room below.

  Kaika, who had taken the lead, presumably because Trip wasn’t spending enough time watching the ground for clues, veered to the side and stared at something in front of her feet.

  “What is it?” Rysha joined her.

  “Something new for Trip to fondle?” Leftie asked from behind Blazer.

  “Feces,” Kaika said.

  “Never mind,” Leftie said.

  “I don’t reckon anyone wants to fondle that,” Duck said.

  “I’ve seen bat guano all over the place.” Blazer waved her hand as if to usher them past.

  “Bat guano the size of cow pies?” Kaika pointed down at the black substance.

  Blazer frowned at it. “No.”

  “And relatively fresh.” Kaika knelt, prodded it with a knife, then brought the tip up to sniff.

  Rysha wrinkled her nose. “It would be immature of me to say that’s disgusting, right?”

  “Yes. If you make it through the elite troops training and get assigned to a unit, you’ll end up being sent to extra schools, like the wilderness tracking and survival one.” Kaika flicked the stuff off her knife, wiped the blade, and sheathed it. “You, too, will get to sniff spoor one day.”

  “You make the job sound so exciting, ma’am.”

  “Is it bat guano?” Blazer eyed the dark route ahead of them.

  “Looks like it and smells like it. But it had to come from a giant bat butt.” Kaika shrugged and started walking again, but she kept her hand on her sword hilt as she advanced. The other held a lantern, the light barely piercing the gloom.

  “Let’s hope we don’t see that.”

  “I didn’t enjoy my experience with a giant tarantula,” Rysha said.

  “I’m not fond of giant anything,” Blazer said. “And I’m starting to appreciate all the normal-sized animals in Iskandia.”

  Trip, realizing the others couldn’t see very far ahead, concentrated on forming the illusionary—but bright—lightbulb he’d conjured in the outpost. It appeared in the air ahead of Kaika, making her start and glance back at him. Trip sent it drifting ahead of their group, illuminating the passage.

  “Did we ever figure out if things are giant here naturally?” Duck asked, stopping to take his own look at the guano pile as the group moved on. “Or is it like Dakrovia and Owanu Owanus where there are a lot of weird things that are descendants of dragon-animal or, uh, dragon-octopus pairings?”

  Blazer glanced at Duck as he jogged to catch up. “I’d forgotten you were on that mission Zirkander gave himself to find Phelistoth.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I saw some very strange critters there.”

  “I guess Trip would be the one to tell us.” Blazer nodded toward him. “Or Jaxi. Or the other one.”

  The other one? Azarwrath asked. Is she referring to me? Telryn, why do these people not know my name?

  You haven’t chatted with them much, have you? Trip asked. He’d carried the soulblade for quite a while before Azarwrath had deigned to talk to him. To Blazer, he said, “If I met an animal with dragon blood, I think I would know it. Or the soulblades—Jaxi and Azarwrath—definitely would.”

  I’ve found that mundane humans are alarmed by telepathic contact from sentient swords.

  Hard to believe, isn’t it? Jaxi asked.

  “But you can’t tell just from the trace they left behind?” Blazer asked.

  “Uh, no.”

  “Maybe you should ask General Zirkander to send you to the wilderness tracking class too,” Rysha said, grinning at him.

  “Just let us know if you sense anything dangerous up ahead,” Blazer said. “Kaika, you said that spoor was fresh, right?”

  “Less than twenty-four hours.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Trip hoped the animals here ran toward the large side naturally. He had a hard time imagining a dragon wanting to shape-shift into a bat and mate with it, but he definitely didn’t want to fight the descendant of that mating.

  We don’t always get what we want, Jaxi said.

  Do you know something I don’t know?

  I know billions of things you don’t know. You’re quite the neophyte.

  Thanks.

  Just step lightly, Telryn, Azarwrath said. We’ll warn you as soon as we’re aware of danger. The way ahead is obscured to my eye, but I do sense life.

  Dangerous life? Trip asked.

  Is there any other kind?

  Well, the mold in the outpost was fairly innocuous.

  Are you sure? Alchemists have long used mold spores in concoctions designed to alter the brain.

  Does that explain the craziness of the cultists? Jaxi asked.

  It could play a role in it, if they’re down there often, inhaling the spore-filled air.

  Trip sniffed tentatively, now worried about the group breathing in the musty cave scents. In that case, I’m going to hope it wasn’t intriguing mold that drew my mother to these caves.

  A wise hope. There are other things to worry about down here.

  As they passed another giant pile of guano, Trip couldn’t disagree.
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  19

  The rubble shifted under Rysha’s boots, and she cursed as a huge rock slipped away. She leaned down, gripping boulders to either side to catch her balance, but the one she’d dislodged clunked and clattered down the steep slope. She winced with each bang, certain the noise would be audible all the way back to the dragon-rider outpost.

  Blazer sighed from above her, most of the group still on a ledge at the top of the slope.

  So much for Azarwrath’s admonition to step lightly, Jaxi spoke dryly into her mind.

  Rysha grimaced, not in the mood for soulblade sarcasm.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” she called back to Blazer after the rock finally clattered to the bottom of the cavern they’d entered, a vast place larger than a hookball field.

  The tunnel they’d been walking through earlier had brought them out more than halfway up a rock wall, the ledge looking out over stalagmites and stalactites, some the size of buildings. The crumbled slope of boulders and jagged chunks of rock Rysha was navigating down was the only way to the bottom. She doubted the others would have more success, but since she was leading, she got a chance to make noise first. Lucky her.

  I merely wish to inform you that I detect creatures heading toward this cavern from the opposite direction, Jaxi said.

  Creatures? Rysha peered into the gloom beyond Trip’s floating lightbulb, but the stalactites and columns sprinkled throughout the cavern made it impossible to see to the far end.

  They’re large, and they’re flying. Creatures seemed as likely a descriptor as any.

  “Can you levitate the group down?” Blazer asked Trip. “You and the swords? The way you did in that ice canyon?”

  “Yes.” Trip’s gaze was toward the opposite end of the cavern. No doubt, he “saw” more than Rysha did. “If you toss down the chapaharii blades. And your ingot.” His eyes narrowed. “But we have company coming. It may be better if everyone simply gets down of their own accord as quickly as possible.”

  Without waiting for Blazer’s opinion, Trip jumped off the ledge. Either he or the soulblades floated him into the air, and his momentum took him sailing over Rysha’s head on his way down to the cavern floor.

  “Show off,” she said, not daring to call the words loudly, not if creatures were coming. Though it probably didn’t matter now. Those creatures must have heard her and already knew the group was there.

  If it makes you feel less inept, I believe they were coming before you kicked the rock free.

  Not really, Rysha grumbled in her mind.

  As she navigated down the rest of the slope, Dorfindral buzzed in her mind. Rysha hoped that was a response to Jaxi speaking telepathically to her, but she doubted it was.

  “I think whatever’s coming is magical,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the clatter of the others descending behind her.

  Pebbles and rocks bounced down to either side of her as her teammates had no more luck than she at navigating soundlessly down the uneven slope.

  “Of course it is,” Blazer muttered.

  “Are we sure we wouldn’t have been better off staying on the ledge?” Duck glanced toward the shadowy cavern, the leering stalactites. “I feel vulnerable here.”

  “Get to the bottom quickly,” Blazer said. “If our enemies are flying, they’ll have a hard time maneuvering between the rock formations. We can more easily duck and shoot from behind them.”

  “Doing my best, ma’am. I—awwwk!”

  Rysha glanced up in time to see Duck float past overhead, his arms flailing.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Leftie growled down. He must have seen Trip looking up at him.

  Trip turned his back to the group still on the slope. Duck landed beside him, and Trip pointed into the darkness and then toward a rock mound. Duck ran to it as he pulled his rifle off his pack.

  Dorfindral’s irritated buzz grew more insistent. Hunt! it seemed to order Rysha.

  “I’ll be happy to do so as soon as I reach the ground,” she muttered, eyeing the deep shadows of the cavern. “Can you make more light, Trip?”

  Trip drew Jaxi and Azarwrath, a sword in each hand. The soulblades flared, blue for Jaxi and red for Azarwrath, and their combined light drove back the shadows for dozens of meters in front of Trip. Rysha didn’t know how he could see anything with suns blazing in each hand, but maybe he wasn’t relying on eyesight.

  Rysha was almost to the bottom when a dark winged shape appeared at the edge of the light. It looked like a giant bat. An extremely giant bat. Its wingspan had to be fifteen feet, but it swooped around the columns and stalactites as if it had been made for such obstacle courses. It drew in its wings when necessary, then flapped them to gain momentum, and drew them in again to arrow through a tight spot. The bat came into a clear area and flew straight toward Trip.

  Red lightning shot forth from Azarwrath, branching to go around a stalactite without hitting it. It should have struck the bat in the head, but between one wingbeat and the next, the creature disappeared. Duck fired at where it should have been, but the bullet clanged off the distant ceiling. Azarwrath’s red lightning crackled through empty air.

  “What the hells?” Duck spun around, squinting into the gloom above them.

  “Was it an illusion?” Blazer asked.

  “No.” Trip turned, like he was tracking something, then barked, “Look out!”

  He was staring at Rysha.

  She flattened herself to the rocks as he lifted his soulblades. The giant bat appeared in the air right above her, clawed limbs only two feet from her head.

  A fireball formed and streaked toward the creature. Rysha swore and did her best to roll out of the way on the boulder-strewn terrain. She only made it a couple of feet before the fireball flew over her head, its heat almost searing her eyebrows off. It slammed into the bat, taking it dead on.

  That should have killed it—should have killed anything—but Dorfindral threw a warning into her mind.

  Rysha scrambled back up the slope as the fireball dissipated. The bat sprang off the rocks toward her, claws slashing toward her face.

  Though terrified, she whipped Dorfindral across her body in time to parry the attack. The blade eagerly sliced off two of the creature’s clawed toes.

  She brought the sword back up, hoping to lunge up the slope and plunge it into the bat’s body. Its huge body. This close, she had no trouble gauging its size, the fact that it was twice as large as she.

  Just before her blade would have plunged into its chest, huge wings slapped inward. She saw them out of the corners of her eyes and sprang back. She slashed at them instead of the bat’s chest, beating them away and drawing some satisfaction when the blade cut into leathery flesh.

  The rocks shifted under her feet as she landed, and she flailed for a second, but caught her balance, landing in a sword-fighting crouch, the blade ready again. Instead of chasing after her, the bat screeched.

  This was not some simple cry of pain. The tremendous volume pierced her eardrums like daggers, and it took all Rysha’s will not to crumple to her knees, drop her sword, and fling her hands over her ears. Rifles rang out from the sides and behind her, but their reports were tiny and insignificant compared to that ongoing screech.

  “No!” someone yelled from behind her. Trip?

  Rysha lifted her head and jerked her sword up as a leathery brown wingtip whipped toward her face. That wing had a claw on it. She lunged with Dorfindral, meeting the attack out in front of her.

  Just before the wing struck her blade, some invisible power slammed into the bat. It flew away from her, wings flapping erratically as its butt end tumbled over its head. It might have been hurled dozens of meters, but the slope got in the way, and it struck the rocks with bone-crunching force.

  Rysha ran after it. The horrible screeching had stopped for the moment. This was her chance to finish off the bat.

  She glanced over her shoulder as she raced up the shifting rocks, the footing treacherous. Belatedly, she worried that s
he might be putting herself in Trip’s way.

  But a second giant bat was swooping all around him. On the cavern floor, he spun and leaped like a trained sword fighter, alternating between defending and attacking with the two soulblades, sometimes doing both at once.

  A roar from above and to Rysha’s right jerked her attention back to her own fight. Kaika leaped in from the side, landing on the bat as it was pushing itself upright. Eryndral blazed green in her hands as she hacked down, slamming the blade into her foe. It slashed through wings and pierced flesh.

  The bat screeched again, and Rysha faltered, gritting her teeth against the pain that noise brought. More than sheer volume hurt her ears. There seemed to be magical power in those screeches.

  Something warm trickled inside of her ear. Blood?

  Rysha pushed forward. She reached the bat as the creature, furling its wings tight, tried to roll away from Kaika. Rysha jumped in, hacking at it, hoping to kill it before it could rise. And hoping to halt that cursed noise.

  The screech stopped, and Rysha thought they’d succeeded in killing the bat, but those wings flexed open, unfurling like whips. One of them clubbed Kaika. She stumbled back, her heel catching, and she swore as she dropped to one knee.

  The other wing almost caught Rysha, but she was fast enough to bring her blade up first. Dorfindral seemed to sing in her mind as she pierced the wing. She drove the sword through it, then yanked it down, as if she were slicing a curtain all the way to the floor.

  The bat rolled and tried to batter her with its free wing, but Kaika sprang back into the fight. She drove Eryndral into the creature’s back.

  Finally, the bat’s movements slowed as it grew weaker. A few more times, it attempted to pull its wing free from Rysha’s sword, but it did not succeed. Kaika drew her blade out, stepped closer, and drove it point first into the creature’s chest. The bat slumped, the life seeping from its body.

  As it died, its head lolled to the side. Its face was definitely bat-like, but the eyes that turned toward Rysha startled her. They weren’t beady and brown, as she would have suspected, but dark green. A disturbingly familiar dark green that made her draw back, gaping as a strange sensation of dread filled the pit of her stomach.

 

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