by Keri Arthur
I rather suspected that he was more than just a mere soldier. There was something in his manner and the way he moved that spoke not only of deadly experience but also someone well used to commanding others. My sister had the same air—it was the reason she led the graces and I’d been happy to be just another of her soldiers. She’d been born to lead; this man had been too. It made me wonder if, despite our allotted time having passed, the people waiting for us at the far end of this tunnel would risk remaining until we got there.
But even if they didn’t, we’d find that miracle and somehow escape.
We had to.
There was too much I needed to understand. Too much I needed to know—like, where in wind’s name were the kin who’d followed my sister into the coruscation? Were they also prisoners, perhaps already en route to Frio? And what had happened to Emri after the harness had snapped? She couldn’t be dead, no matter what common sense might be saying, as it was very hard to kill a drakkon without sending her rider insane. The fact I was here—and apparently lucid despite the strangeness all around me—meant she should be too. But I couldn’t feel her presence—not in the skies and certainly not in my thoughts.
And yet, despite the initial rush of fear, I really didn’t think she was dead. Maybe that was wishful thinking—maybe this whole escape was nothing but the nightmare of a mind no longer able to deal with reality. Or maybe I was dead, and this was a form of eternal punishment for supporting my sister’s bold plan to attack the coruscation spheres with the full might of both fortresses—a plan that might well have led us all into a trap… but had it also led to their death? I didn’t know, because the events of that day were locked behind the ice.
I silently cursed. These fragments were more infuriating than enlightening, if only because they raised more questions than they solved.
Especially when they made no sense.
Once again, the urge to get to Zephrine rose. Maybe if I saw her for myself, I’d understand what was going on. But to do that, we first had to escape this tunnel and the Mareritt.
We ran on… and on. The ache in my head now beat in time with my footsteps, but my eye had at least stopped bleeding. The inner fires might be depleted, but they weren’t as yet extinguished.
It was another ten minutes before the slightest glimmer of light appeared ahead. I instantly doused my flame and drew in the air; underneath the crisp scent of night ran the spicy citrus of blacknut trees and the musk of the Mareritt. There were guards up ahead, even if they weren’t immediately visible. We slowed our pace to ease the noise of our steps, and gradually the ink of the tunnel gave way to the brightness of a moon-clad night. My gaze swept from the very large gate and the trees beyond it that promised freedom to the buildings that stood on either side. They were far larger than the one that had guarded the entrance into the forecourt and were both dark. I didn’t trust that darkness. If there was one thing that could be said about Mareritt soldiers, it was that they were well trained and well disciplined. They wouldn’t have abandoned their posts or even gone to sleep—not until they were given the all clear, at any rate.
“What’s the plan?” Though I kept the question soft, it still seemed abnormally loud in the silence.
He glanced at me, his expression ungiving and the rifle raised. I had a suspicion that if I took one step out of line, the last bullet in that gun would be aimed my way. “We each tackle one guardhouse. Ready?”
I nodded in answer to both what he’d said and what he hadn’t. He studied me a second longer, then turned and moved to the right. I went left, keeping close to the wall, hoping the shadows were thick enough to conceal my presence. I knew from years of playing hide-and-seek with my brothers that brown skin and black hair was harder to spot in shadows. The problem in this situation was the gold-and-red uniform I wore. It had never been designed for concealment, simply because there was little point when you were astride a drakkon with a wingspan of over one hundred and fifty feet. But the stronger the moonlight got the closer we moved to the exit, the brighter the red threading decorating the uniform would glow.
I clenched my fingers against the need to take out the Mareritt before they attacked. As tempting as it was, I really needed to conserve my strength and my fire. But attack first, ask questions later had been something of a mantra for me when it came to the Mareritt—and it was one that had rarely led me astray.
I let my breath hiss through clenched teeth and padded on. My heart raced and sweat trickled down my spine, but nothing stirred in the darkness within the guardhouse, and there was no sign of weapons being trained my way. Which might or might not mean anything, given the weapons both Kai and the Mareritt used were of a design I’d never seen before.
Then, finally, the shadows moved within the guardhouse, swiftly followed by a short, sharp rattle.
Machine gun.
I dropped to the ground and hurled a lance of fire at the window and my unseen assailant. Bullets pinged off the wall and ground all around me, sending sharp shards of stone spearing through the air. I swore and threw up a hand in a vague effort to protect my face. My fire streamed into the open window of the guard’s box, and a heartbeat later, the screaming began. It didn’t last long. It never did.
As more gunfire rang out from the second guard’s box, I scrambled upright and ran forward. The thick stench of burned flesh assaulted my nostrils, as sharp as the agony that still rode the air. I grabbed the edge of the open window and leaped inside. All that remained of the guards were still-burning remnants of bone and flesh.
Relief stirred, but we weren’t out of the woods yet. I carefully stepped across the remains and moved to the rear wall. The weapons stores hadn’t been locked—a move I’d normally consider careless if it wasn’t for the fact that they apparently controlled this entire region. Perhaps security wasn’t a major problem for them, despite the presence of the resistance in this outpost. I threw a rifle over my shoulder, gripped a second, and then shoved as many ammo clips as I could into my pockets. I’d half turned to walk across to the door when a flicker of blue caught my attention. It belonged to a knife—one that had an intricately carved blue-glass handle and a matching blade. It was an Ithican hunting knife, and why it was even here in a Mareritt armory I had no idea. They were extremely rare in Arleeon, even though Ithica had for many years been one of our major trade partners. The blades were nigh on destructible—not even drakkon fire could destroy them—and yet despite this, the Mareritt had never used them against us. Weapons such as knives and long swords generally required close-in fighting, and the Mareritt had never been flight capable.
I plucked the knife from the cabinet and hefted it lightly in my right hand. Once again, blue light ran down the blade, making me wonder if perhaps magic had been a part of its creation. Not that it mattered to me; the balance was perfect and the blade light. Even if it hadn’t been, there was no way known I was about to leave such a weapon in the hands of an enemy. I shoved the blade into the empty sheath strapped to my leg and continued on. Kai gave me a nod as he left the other guardhouse and motioned toward the exit. I slipped out the door and, with my back pressed against the wall of the building, made my way to the massive gate. The strip of cleared land that separated us from the trees was just wide enough to allow a small drakkon to sweep in and flame. I studied the trees, seeing no one, sensing no one, then edged past the gate’s stanchion and peered up. I couldn’t see her silhouette against the night sky, but I had no doubt she was up there somewhere.
The soft call of a Nightjar ran across the silence. I glanced at Kai, but his attention was on the forest. After several seconds of silence, he repeated the sound.
This time, the call was answered.
Our rescue party hadn’t left, despite the fact we were well past the nominated deadline.
A mix of relief and uncertainty ran through me. Freedom from the Mareritt now seemed assured—but was I about to walk into an even worse situation? Kai might have needed me to escape captivity, but the utter hatr
ed I’d glimpsed in the tunnel had shaken my earlier belief that he could be trusted.
He lowered his gun and glanced at me. “Let’s go.”
I hesitated briefly and then followed him into the open space, angling across until I was directly behind him. It probably wouldn’t stop those in the trees shooting me if that was what Kai intended, but it at least gave me the illusion of safety.
We were in the middle of the open area when I heard a familiar whistle of air—a drakkon, sweeping in.
I glanced up and saw her—a fiery spark against the brightness of the stars.
“Drakkon incoming!” a male shouted from the trees.
Kai slid to a stop and raised his rifle.
“Don’t shoot her,” I said and dove toward him.
I hit him at the same time the shot rang out. Heard the screech of her pain even as he grabbed me and tossed me to one side. I scrambled to my feet; saw the gun pointed my way. Froze, even as two men appeared out of the trees and began shooting. At the drakkon, not me.
Bullets generally couldn’t penetrate a drakkon’s tough hide; the only part of them that was susceptible to damage was the membrane between each of the phalanges when stretched out in full flight. And even then, it took a lot of shots to shred it. But this drakkon was half the size of Emri, and surely a drakkon’s body structure couldn’t be altered so brutally without there being other effects—effects that might well make her vulnerable to regular weapons.
The screams that now echoed across the night certainly seemed to indicate just that.
“Don’t kill her,” I yelled. “I need to speak to her!”
They didn’t listen, and the barrage of shots continued. I twisted around, saw the bullets now shredding the membrane on her left wing. Saw her spiraling downward, her unbroken wing cutting the air furiously in an effort to remain aloft. But even a drakkon as small as she needed both wings to remain mobile.
“In the wind’s name, Kai, make them stop! I need to speak to her!”
He didn’t lower his weapon. Didn’t order the other men to lower theirs. And his eyes… I shivered.
“No one can speak to drakkons,” he said, voice flat and cold. “No one but Mareritt.”
“And kin. What calamity has happened here that all knowledge of drakkon kin has been erased?” My voice was filled with desperation. The agony of that drakkon was so strong I could practically taste it. “She’s no immediate threat to any of you—”
“She’s a drakkon—she can cinder our bones and scatter our ashes to the four winds.”
So could I, and it was damn tempting to do just that right now. “Drakkon fire has distance limits—”
“And both us and that forest are well within her range. We cannot risk it.”
“Then go—leave! I’ll distract her, and you can be safe and escape.”
Something flashed across his expression—something that was both surprise and suspicion. “I’m not going anywhere until I solve the puzzle you present.”
There was a decided grimness to his tone that suggested the outcome would not be good if, in solving that puzzle, he found me wanting. But that was the least of my problems. I glanced over my shoulder. The drakkon’s blood now rained onto the ground, staining it black and filling the air with its stink. “You’ve trusted me this far, Kai. Let me talk to her. Please.”
He studied me for what seemed an eternity, then raised his rifle and motioned the others to stop firing. “You have five minutes; any longer, and we finish her.”
And perhaps me with her...
I pushed the thought away, handed him the two rifles I carried, then spun and raced toward the drakkon. She hit the ground with an audible thump, the claws at the end of her good wing digging a deep ditch in the soil as she fought to remain upright. Her injured wing dragged behind her, bent, useless, and bloody. Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them away. This drakkon was not my drakkon. She didn’t even belong to any of the graces I’d grown up with. She was an unknown, and that made her dangerous. I might be somewhat immune to drakkon fire—long exposure would eventually kill me, but my uniform was fireproof and I could use my own flames as a shield to protect my head when I wasn’t wearing a helmet—but I was as vulnerable to teeth and claws as anyone else.
I reached out to her mentally but hit an impregnable wall. It wasn’t one raised by pain. It wasn’t even a result of the mind blindness a rare few drakkons were born with. This was different; it almost felt unnatural—as if it were something being forced onto her.
She shifted her body to brace herself further, and the metal band on her rear leg came into view. Blue light flashed across its surface, a rhythmic pulse that matched the ebb and flow of static in her mind. She roared in fury and pain, her leg muscles twitching as she tossed her head from side to side, as if in denial.
The band, I suspected, wasn’t only causing her pain but was the means by which the Mareritt controlled her.
I slid to a halt twenty feet away. Her head snaked around, and her dark gaze pinned me. There was fury in that gaze—fury, hatred, and pain. It was the hatred I didn’t understand; something had seriously gone wrong when a drakkon didn’t recognize kin.
I raised a hand. “Easy, easy, little one. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She opened her mouth and sucked in air. I called to my own fire and let it burn across my fingers. “I know you can understand me, so heed this warning well. Your flames cannot hurt me, but if you try to burn those behind me, I will finish what they started.”
Something flickered through the fury in her dark gaze—a spark of understanding, perhaps. Then the band flared brighter and that spark fled. She flamed. At me, not at the men. Somewhere behind the Mareritt-induced pain, she’d understood my warning.
I braced my feet and threw my flames in front of me, forming them into a shield. Blood dribbled from my eye once again, but there was nothing I could do but ignore it. Her fire hit with the force of a thousand hammers, pushing me back several feet. The heat behind it was even fiercer than mine and would have instantly cindered anyone else. Every breath felt like liquid fire, and sweat poured down my spine, face, and body. But the shield did its work; it forced her flames over my head, leaving my hair dripping and my face burning with effort rather than simply burning.
Her fire died. I extinguished my own and ran straight at her. She bellowed and snapped at me, her teeth razor sharp and coming altogether too close. I dodged sideways and then leaped high, catching the edge of one nostril and flipping up, over her head and through the horns on either side before landing heavily on her neck. She reared in shock; I gripped tight with my thighs as she bellowed and threw her head from side to side, then lunged forward and grabbed her horns, hanging on grimly as her movements became more violent. I had to ride them out; only then would I have any hope of restraining her.
She became even more frantic, and her desperation stung the air. Every breath was fast but shallow, and her scales were beginning to lose their sheen—a sure sign blood loss was taking its toll. She rose up and her good wing began to beat; a storm of dust erupted, making it hard to breathe and impossible to see. Slowly, awkwardly, she rose from the ground. A few feet, no more. Then she crashed back down and threw herself sideways in a last, desperate effort to dislodge me. As her head and neck smashed against the ground, I tore off my flight jacket and scrambled forward, sitting on her cheek and using my weight to hold her down. It had taken a number of us to hold down the bigger drakkons, but this one had neither their size nor weight, and was close to exhaustion besides. I threw my jacket over her visible eye; ideally, it would have been better to blind both, but at least the other was locked against the ground.
With a defeated groan, her frantic struggles ceased. I gently scratched the ridge above her eye and crooned softly. After a few minutes, she relaxed. The danger was far from over but she’d at least ceded to my control. How long that would last was anyone’s guess—lightning continued to flicker across the band on her leg, and her skin twitch
ed ever more violently in response.
“Kai? You still there?”
“Yes.” There was something close to astonishment in his voice.
“I need you over here.”
“Red, you’re out of your ever-loving mind if you think—”
“She hasn’t the strength left to flame,” I cut in, “and she won’t smell you if you approach from the side.”
“And may I ask why you want me to approach? Because that isn’t what any normal, sane, and sensible person would be doing right now.”
“I need you to take the band off her leg.” I risked a look across the clearing. The other two men were standing either side of him, and their expressions were a mix of uncertainty, surprise, and suspicion. “I think it’s how the Mareritt are controlling the drakkon. Take it off, and we may be able to switch her allegiance.”
Or not, given the glimpse of hatred I’d seen. But I had to at least try. She deserved a chance at freedom.
“If your rescue party has a medikit handy,” I continued, “bring that too.”
“Kaiden, it’s not going to take the Mareritt more than a few hours to break through the collapse point,” the thick-set man said. “We need to be well gone by then.”
Kaiden, not Kai, I noted.
“I know,” Kai—Kaiden—said. “Go across to the gate and keep watch. Holt, get me the kit.”
The drakkon briefly attempted to raise her head. But with my weight on it and her good wing underneath her, she had little hope—especially when her strength was leaching from her as fast her blood was staining the soil. If I didn’t stem that flow soon, she’d die. Of course, that might be a better option than her falling back into the hands of the Mareritt.
I continued to caress the bony ridge but kept on eye on Kaiden’s careful approach. Once he was close enough, I drew the knife and threw it into the ground in front of him. “Use that to pry open the band.”
He drew it out of the soil and whistled softly. “An Ithican blade. I’ve heard of them but never seen one.”
“That’s because we used to drop the things deep into the ocean whenever we found them. Weapons that could injure drakkons weren’t something we wanted readily available.”