Centyr Dominance

by Michael G. Manning

  But not me, it was just too damn boring for me. Fixing sheep, fine, but don’t ask me to memorize a bunch of meaningless symbols and numbers. Except they didn’t seem so meaningless now, and people would probably die for her laziness. If I have to choose between saving Gerold and killing all these innocents, what will it be?

  A vision of fire filled her mind, and she knew the answer. She would kill any number of strangers to save a friend—and then she would hate herself for it afterward.

  Would it be killing, though? Or would I really be saving them from a fate worse than death?

  A dark reply came to her, Ask their families later.

  Ignoring that thought, she drew on her anger to send her shield surging outward once more, tossing the people against it violently back. Then she contracted it and began running before the crowd could press in again.

  As she ran she began searching with her magesight, and whenever she found something loose, a board, a lamppost, a watering trough, anything bulky enough, she pulled it inward to land behind her companions as they fled.

  It tripped a number of their pursuers, and in some cases the flying debris bludgeoned several of them off their feet, but it wasn’t enough. The crowd surged behind them, heedless of the dangers. In the distance Moira could detect more of them coming from every direction, heading unerringly toward her location. She couldn’t afford to play nice any longer.

  “Hurt them if you have to!” she yelled back to Lenny and Larry. “Try to lame them if you can.”

  Lenny roared and Larry simply nodded. Both of them were glad to be allowed to act more freely. They began fighting with more relish, knocking people aside and hamstringing some with teeth and claws.

  We can do this, thought Moira, allowing herself to hope, but then she saw something strange in the road a block away. She hadn’t noticed it before, not as she had the people closing in on her. This had seemed to be inanimate, an object with no more aythar than a stone or a building. At this distance though, she couldn’t help but notice its movement, and that drew her attention.

  It was a strange contraption, built entirely of metal, but it moved as though it had a life of its own. Four legs lifted a squat central ovoid body above them. Two arms and an odd box-like contraption projected from the central portion. The center swiveled to track her as she moved sideways in the street, and she could see that the strange rectangular box had an opening of some sort that it kept pointed in her direction.

  As unfamiliar as the thing was, Moira recognized a weapon when she saw one. Years of practice with her brother made her response almost purely instinctive, she ran closer to the building on her left and contracted her shield, making it denser and angling it to deflect whatever force was about to strike.

  She never heard the weapon fire. For a split second she saw a flash, and then her awareness vanished in a shock of agony and burning pain.

  Chapter 14

  Wake up! Someone was shouting inside Moira’s head.

  It hurts.

  Moira’s first impression was of something cold and hard under her hands. Gradually she came to realize she was on the ground, but where? After a moment she remembered the street, and her attempt to get Gerold and Wat out of the city. She could feel something sharp pressing into her cheek, and she started to raise her head.

  “Oh!” She immediately regretted the movement. Pain shot through her head and neck, making her want nothing more than to remain very still.

  You have to get up, or we will die here. It’s coming. Let me help you!

  She tried to open her eyes but was only partly successful. Her right eye revealed a chaotic world of movement and confusion. Her left eye didn’t open at all, though whether it was swollen shut or something worse, she couldn’t be sure yet. She thought she might have fallen into a puddle, for her face was wet. She wiped at it feebly with one hand. It didn’t feel like water—it was far too sticky. Who are you? she asked, addressing the voice in her head.

  I’m you, the other you, the one you created. You have to get up, it’s almost too late!

  Oh. She remembered now. The spellmind that she had inadvertently created when she escaped from the palace—when she had violated the rules her mother had taught her. As she thought about that she began to see the world again with her magesight. Its return created a terrible throbbing in her skull. It also showed her the carnage around her.

  Bodies were everywhere. Stretch, still carrying Gerold, was standing over her, while Lenny and Larry seemed to have gone on a rampage. They were twenty feet away now, and the torn and mangled remains of the townsfolk that lay all about seemed to be primarily their handiwork. People were still charging at them, but flesh and blood was a poor weapon against spellbeasts. Her two guardians ripped and tore, shredding flesh and breaking bone with mad abandon.

  A sharp resounding click reached her ears. It was a modest sound, as if someone had clapped two bricks together, but it heralded something far more powerful than the sound indicated. The metal monster was only thirty feet away, and it had pointed its boxy weapon at Lenny.

  The lion shaped spellbeast was thrown back, a giant hole appearing through its torso followed instantly by an explosion in the building that stood behind him. Moira had felt it, but it had happened too quickly for her to understand. It almost seemed as if a rock had been thrown at unbelievable speed, tearing through Lenny and demolishing the wall of the nearest house.

  Is that what hit me? she wondered.

  Lenny recovered quickly, and ignoring the gaping tear through his magical body he sprang at the metal monster while Moira tried, and failed, to stand. Apparently the thing couldn’t fire its strange weapon again so soon, but a small metal door slid aside and a metal rod emerged. Light flashed, and a thunderous roar shattered the night, far louder than the noise made by its previous attack.

  The sound didn’t stop. It went on, hammering at Moira’s ears as something too fast for her to see shredded Lenny’s body. The spellbeast’s great catlike body collapsed. Larry had charged from the opposite side of the creature, but it swiveled with smooth precision and brought its devastating weapon, still firing, to bear on her ape-like guardian.

  The area around Moira was temporarily clear of living people, but a man stepped out from an alley and began running toward her. It took several seconds before she recognized him. It was Chad Grayson. A quick order stopped Stretch from attacking him.

  “Where have you been?” she asked numbly, still in shock.

  Kneeling, he slipped his arms under her and lifted. The hunter was not a big man, average in height and build, he probably weighed no more than hundred and sixty pounds, but as he stood she could feel the muscles in his arms pulling taut with hidden strength. “Why does every woman ask me that?” he replied before adding, “We have to go.”

  Incredibly, he broke into a jog. The jarring movement did nothing to improve the pain she already felt.

  “How did you find me?” she managed.

  Moira was slender, but even so the ranger was already breathing hard as he answered, “I followed Gram. When I heard the commotion and realized he was heading for you, I ran ahead.”

  Larry had managed to reach the metal beast and landed a heavy blow even as the thunderous weapon tore him apart. His fist hit the strange weapon, bending it, and a loud explosion followed. It fell silent then, but her guardian had taken too much damage, and he fell to one side, his magical body beginning to disintegrate.

  Smoke rose from the blackened opening that the rod had emerged from, but the monster didn’t stop. Its legs began moving once more, and it turned to follow them, swiveling its torso to bring the box back into line with the fleeing humans.

  Chad left the road, turning into a side alley when the strange clack sound rang out once more, and the building they had turned in front of shook. Seconds later the corner collapsed, spilling brick and masonry across the alley behind them.

  “You left Gram behind?” Moira could see the four-legged monster struggling to climb over
the rubble as Chad turned the next corner into a new street.

  The hunter was panting too hard to answer, and his feet were slowing as he struggled to continue running with her, but a new voice found her mind. Moira! It was Cassandra.

  I’m in trouble, she replied, sending a stream of images and words to describe what had happened as well as the metal monster that was following her.

  I’m coming, answered her dragon, Head to the left. I’m to the west of you. I can’t stop, though. Grace is following me on foot, and she means to kill me.

  “Turn left at the next corner,” Moira told her weary savior.

  Chad stumbled but kept moving. “Why?” he panted.

  She kept her answer short, “Dragons.”

  He nodded and headed toward the turn she had indicated.

  Why is Grace trying to kill you? Moira asked her dragon.

  I believe Gram ordered it. Something is controlling him, the dragon answered.

  Moira felt her jaw clench as she silently cursed. She was tired, and fatigue had clouded her mind. In spite of herself, she felt the fires of hatred beginning to kindle in her heart. Not Gram, not this—they’ve gone too far.

  More people were closing around them, drawn inexorably to her, like moths to a flame. Even before the metal monster caught up to them they would be dragged down by a mob of lesser foes. Moira tried to create a shield around them and was rewarded with a stabbing pain in her skull. It felt as though someone had driven a knife between her eyes. Chad’s rapidly tiring legs weren’t going to be able to escape the crowd.

  The starlight above dimmed as a massive shadow passed overhead and then the night was illuminated by a gout of searing flame. Cassandra dipped low and scoured the street behind them with dragonfire. Wooden buildings caught fire as if they were made of paper, and the people following—the less said of them the better. They died silently, their bodies enveloped by flames. The dragon beat her wings and began gaining height after her deadly pass.

  Chad kept moving, but even with the horrors behind him, he could do no more than walk now. “This whole damn city is liable to catch fire,” he panted.

  “Put me down. I think I can walk,” Moira told him.

  The hunter was too tired to argue. Gently, he lowered her legs to the ground, and after she had tested them for a moment they moved on. He kept a hand on her arm just in case she lost her balance. Stretch followed, still carrying the unconscious baron on his back.

  I’ll circle around and make another pass. There’s something still following you, said Cassandra in her mind.

  Careful. The weapon it uses is deadly, warned Moira.

  So am I.

  Her legs weren’t hurt, but her gait was unsteady. As they went she tried once more to create a shield around them. This time she succeeded, but the result was less than impressive, and the pain it caused made it not worth the effort. With a sigh Moira let the shield fade.

  Moira’s magesight was working properly, although it made her head ache. She could easily sense the metal monster closing on them from behind. It was still in the flames that covered the street, but it didn’t show any signs of slowing. Another shape approached from the darkness ahead of them, following the same course that Cassandra had flown. Moira recognized Grace bounding along the street toward them.

  She could only hope that Grace’s order only included the other dragon, otherwise things would get worse very quickly.

  The moment came and went almost before Chad could see her. The smaller, horse-sized dragon ran past them with the speed of a hunting cat. Moira caught a glimpse of Grace’s eyes as she passed, reflecting the flames that lit the street behind them.

  Be careful, shouted Moira mentally, but if Grace heard her she gave no sign. A ton and a half of reptilian muscle, she passed the humans and threw herself at the metal beast that was just emerging from the fire.

  “Don’t stop,” urged Chad when she began to pause and turn her head. “There’s nothing we can do against that thing.”

  The metal monster failed to register her attack in time, temporarily blinded perhaps by the intense heat it had just passed through. Grace’s heavy body nearly bowled it over, but its four legs provided exceptional stability. She grappled the thing with teeth and claws, although they found little purchase against the hard metal.

  Her greatest advantage was that the thing had only two arms, and those were small, probably meant to serve functional purposes rather than participate in melee combat. Scrabbling to hold on to a body with few places to grasp, Grace latched onto the right arm. Metal screamed as she ripped it free seconds later.

  But its body was turning, twisting to bring the box-like weapon to bear.

  Grace! The box is a weapon, don’t let it…!

  Moira failed to finish the warning. Grace saw the threat and caught the metal device in her powerful jaws, crushing it with teeth that were stronger than any metal yet forged in Lothion. An odd clack rang out as the monster tried to fire, and then Moira and Chad were picked up and thrown by the force of a powerful explosion. Even Stretch was sent tumbling despite his bulk and four legs.

  Moira found herself face down in the street once more, but she quickly levered herself upright with her arms. The world had gone silent, but her mouth was open. She could feel herself screaming, but for some reason she had lost the power to produce sound. The only thing she could hear was Cassandra’s voice in her mind, Noooooo!

  The lower half of the metal beast still stood in the street, weak flames guttering from the shell of its torn and broken upper section. Moira’s one eye was unable to find the dragon, but her magesight discovered her seconds later, Grace’s broken body hung limply, impaled on a heavy roof beam that had been split by the force of the explosion.

  This can’t be happening. The dragons her father had created were among the most powerful creatures left in the world since his war with the gods. Grace had been the firstborn child of her gift when she had come into her power. Losing her had never been among the remotest possibilities in her mind.

  Seconds passed like hours as she stood there. Her logical mind told her that Grace could not die; the enchantment her father had crafted made the dragons immortal, but once her heart stopped beating the enchantment would reset. Grace’s mind would be wiped clean of all memories, and the magic that was at the core of her life would create a new egg. The bond she shared with Gram would end, and she would hatch anew once a new master had claimed the egg. She would be reborn, but she wouldn’t be the Grace that Moira had known.

  Cassandra landed near them and lifted her head to the sky. Moira imagined she must be venting her rage and pain in a scream to the heavens, but it still could not pierce the silence that surrounded her. My ears aren’t working, she realized. With a feeling of detachment she turned her magesight inward, discovering that the force of the explosion had ruptured both of her eardrums.

  The larger dragon moved forward, reaching out to pull Grace’s body from the massive timber that held her up, but Moira raised one hand, Stop. She’s still alive. Her aythar is there and the heart still beats.

  The heart still pumped, but the thick wood had pierced her chest, ripping through one lung, several large arteries, and doing unimaginable damage to the organs in her abdomen. Worse yet, the explosion had broken her jaw and cracked her skull. It was a miracle that her lower jaw was even still attached.

  They will pay for this! roared Cassandra in her mind. This city will burn!

  In due time, agreed Moira, understanding her dragon’s sentiment. Her heart was numb, though as if she had forgotten how to feel. Was this how it was for father, when he saw his father die in front of him? She still remembered the look on his face when he had told her the story of her grandfather’s death.

  “I could have saved him, but I couldn’t do everything at once. I was alone, and despite all my powers, I was helpless to stop the bleeding, remove the arrow, maintain his heart, and repair the damage to the muscle. All I could do was ease his passing,” her father h
ad told her.

  A decision formed within her, a resolve that went beyond conscious thought. Without fully knowing what she meant to do Moira stepped forward, walking until she was close enough to reach up and touch Grace’s tail where it hung above her. The heart was still beating, although it was slower now, and the rhythm was faltering. Ignoring the pain in her skull, she stretched out her aythar and used it to help support Grace’s struggling heart. Lend me your power, she told Cassandra.

  A surge of aythar rushed into her, sending waves of pain rippling through Moira. She still hadn’t recovered from the feedback when her shield had been broken earlier. Using your power now is unwise. That warning came from her other self, the spell-twin that still haunted the back of her mind.

  I don’t care, Moira answered. Help me.

  How?

  The young wizardess showed her the vision that was forming in her mind, and her spell-twin nodded in agreement, as you wish.

  Moira began feeding aythar to her other self, and she felt again the strange wonder as her mind began to fragment. Except it wasn’t a sensation of breaking, or of becoming smaller, it was a feeling of growth. Her other self swelled with the power Moira was giving her and as she split into multiple new copies Moira felt as though she were growing ever larger.

  The agony in her skull became more intense as she channeled Cassandra’s aythar into her spellmind copies, but she forced herself to continue. She only had to deal with the pain. She only had one task. Her twins felt none of that pain, and they would do what needed doing.

  Moira expanded, becoming first ten and then twenty. One part of her was on fire, burning as her mind sent forth the aythar that the others needed to work. The rest of her was ready, focused and calm. Once she had grown great enough, the voice of the one in pain cried out, do it!

  A dozen things happened at once. Grace’s body was lifted, pulled from the wooden spike that pierced her and laid gently to rest on the ground, while simultaneously the hole in her chest closed. The arteries and veins that pulsed with rushing blood found their separate parts and closed, keeping what remained of the dragon’s blood in the veins where it was needed. Her jaw realigned itself, and the bones fused again becoming whole even as the skin and muscles were brought back into place and mended. Even the crack in her skull was fixed.