Deathcaster (Shattered Realms)

by Cinda Williams Chima

  One of the three, Splinter, seemed to be having trouble keeping up with the others. He was visibly smaller than his brothers and sisters, and though he was smart and agile, he couldn’t match their wingspread. The reason was plain to see—one of his wings was visibly deformed. Evan wondered whether he’d been born that way, or if he’d been injured.

  If there was such a thing as the “runt of the litter” in a clutch of eggs, Splinter was it.

  When Evan asked Jenna about it, she explained that the nestlings had been attacked by wolves. Splinter had survived, but his wing had been badly damaged. Adrian had examined it, but the injury was too old to remedy now.

  Evan was no healer, but he did know a lot about using wind and resistance to make things move. He began to give Splinter a little extra help—for instance, a tailwind when he needed it to outrace one of his nestmates, or an updraft to lift him above the others so he’d own the “high ground” at a critical time.

  The first time Evan did it, Splinter noticed. He hovered, wings beating frantically, looking for the source of the sudden rogue wind.

  The third or fourth time he intervened, the dragon landed next to Evan on the quay, fixing him with a look that said the game was over. There was something else—a fluttering at the fringes of his mind that he couldn’t quite grasp. Was the dragon trying to communicate with him?

  “I think I can give you a better wing,” he said to Splinter.

  The dragon regarded him with what could only be defined as skepticism.

  Recalling what Jenna had told him about communicating with dragons, Evan tried to visualize the fix he had in mind—a kind of jib sail that would add surface area to the damaged wing so that it would better match the other one.

  Manufacturing it would be another matter. It would have to be made of a flame-resistant fabric. And light, so the additional weight wouldn’t defeat its purpose.

  Destin would have known exactly how to do it.

  Evan heard that fluttering in his mind again.

  Splinter stood, staring at him intently as if waiting for an answer, obviously frustrated with this deaf human.

  “What’s going on?”

  Adrian had joined them on the quay and was looking from one to the other curiously.

  “I think I can design a kind of sail mechanism that would compensate for Splinter’s wing so that they match up better. Right now, he has to work really hard to make the adjustments that allow him to fly straight. I’m trying to sell him on it.”

  “He’s asking you questions,” Adrian said, nodding at Splinter.

  Evan shrugged helplessly.

  “If you’re having trouble, it helps to be touching him.”

  If I extend the hand of friendship, will he bite it off?

  “Remember—he can hear what you say to him, silently and out loud,” Adrian said.

  “Splinter,” Evan said, feeling a little foolish, “is it all right if I touch you? That way I might be able to hear you.”

  The dragon lowered his head so that they were practically nose to nose. Evan could feel his skin tightening under the heat of his faintly sulfurous breath. That seemed to be a yes, or at least a maybe. He ducked under the dragon’s jaw and rested his hand under his chin, where he wasn’t as thickly armored.

  A series of images slammed into Evan’s head. The meaning was clear enough: How can a flightless, wingless, rather puny creature help me fly?

  “Ships fly,” Evan said, pointing at the ketch. It wasn’t a great illustration, because her sails were still furled to the masts.

  Splinter understood, though, because in response, he sent an image of a dragon skimming across the ocean, sending up a wake. Ships fly on belly.

  “But you both use wind.”

  Once again, Evan visualized the rig he thought might work, though, admittedly, parts of it were rather sketchy.

  Try, Splinter said, finally.

  Evan was the architect, but all three members of the Destiny’s crew ended up working on the project after putting in a full day doing ship repairs.

  They all gathered on the quay to watch as Splinter tried out his new gear. On the first try, he all but ended up in the harbor. By the third launch, he’d worked with it enough so that anyone could see that it was a huge improvement.

  Day after day, the young dragon practiced. And day after day, he continued to assist in the repairs to the ship, as well as bringing Evan game and fish he’d caught while hunting. Evan made a few adjustments in the rigging, and before long, Splinter was nearly keeping up with the others, and obviously relishing his new mastery of the skies.

  Destin would have built a better rig, Evan thought. Still, he couldn’t help being pleased with himself. Especially because Splinter’s endorsement turned out to be the key to winning over the other dragons, even Cas. With that success behind him, Evan turned to working with Jenna to make more and larger saddles and harnesses that would allow dragons and humans to fly together.

  As the ship neared completion, the debate began—what now?

  “Just before they left, the empress somehow found out who Lyss really is,” Breon said. “Maybe that’s why they left right then.”

  “It seems obvious that Celestine means to take advantage of Captain Gray’s military skills,” Evan said. “That’s why they’re heading back to the wetlands. That’s where the war is now. The empress already controls the Desert Coast, with the possible exception of Tarvos. And your sister knows how to fight in the Realms. She’s been successful there.”

  “I can’t believe that Lyss would fight for the empress against her own people.” Sasha added more ironwood to their campfire.

  “The empress can be very persuasive,” Evan said. “As Jenna pointed out, if the choice is between serving the empress as a bloodsworn slave, or serving the empress as a free person, nobody could blame her if she chose the latter. At least that way, there’s the hope of escape.”

  “Wouldn’t Celestine want to lock her up in a safe place?” Adrian said. “Wouldn’t she be worth more as a hostage than as a military commander?”

  “The empress has seen what Lyss can do,” Breon said. “She doesn’t have a lot of options.”

  “If Celestine takes Lyss to the Realms, you know they’ll keep a close guard on her,” Jenna said. “If she tries to escape, and fails, she knows what the consequence will be.”

  “I think Lyss will do whatever it takes to stay alive,” Sasha said. “She’s the only survivor of the Gray Wolf line. She’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure it doesn’t end with her.”

  “Now that she knows you’re alive, Wolf,” Jenna said, “she will also stay alive in order to see you again.”

  Sasha sighed. “I hate to say this, but I feel like Lyss has been getting farther and farther away while we’ve been stalled here. The ship still isn’t seaworthy, and then it will take time to sail back home, even if we manage to avoid the empress’s ships. I worry that we’ll be too late.”

  “Maybe we don’t have to sail back,” Jenna said. When this was met with blank faces, she rushed on. “It depends on the dragons, of course. Whether they want to go to the Realms, and whether they are willing to fly us there. We have five people and six dragons.”

  “Have any of the young ones flown across an ocean before?” Evan said.

  Jenna bit her lip, then shot a worried look at Splinter. “No. But they’ve been flying farther and farther every day since the stormwall came down. Some have flown nearly as far as the mainland of Carthis. . . .” She trailed off.

  “Well, I’m not getting on a dragon,” Sasha said. “No offense,” she mumbled, looking down at her lap as if trying to avoid the dragons’ eyes.

  “Lyss is not afraid of dragons,” Jenna said. “Lyss and Slayer flew together all the time. If you want to serve your queen, you must follow her example.”

  “If Lyss were here, and planning to fly across the ocean on a dragon, I would go with her,” Sasha said. “Otherwise . . .” She shook her head.

  “Bu
t if that’s what you need to do to serve?” Jenna raised an eyebrow.

  “You don’t even know if any of the dragons are strong enough to carry me,” Sasha said. “I’m twice as big as any of the rest of you.”

  In answer, Cas extended his wing to the ground, inviting her to climb aboard.

  “Cas says he’ll carry you,” Jenna said. “Pricker will, too.”

  Sasha eyed them doubtfully, and Evan wondered if that was her real concern.

  “You all can do what you want, but I’m not leaving my ship here,” Evan said flatly.

  Jenna’s breath hissed out in frustration. “But—”

  “Listen, you and Cas already burned up one of my ships,” Evan said. “And I’m not sure whose banner my others are sailing under at the moment. This—” He swallowed hard, trying to quell the emotion welling up in him. “This is my first ship, and I’m not leaving her here.”

  In so many ways, Destiny had been the symbol of dreams made real—the acknowledgment that he had the right to hope for happiness. He and Destin had built it together. He was not ready to give up on it yet.

  “Ships are too slow,” Jenna said.

  “If we go back to the Fells and into a war, the dragons can help,” Adrian said.

  “Anyway, Cas wants to go back,” Jenna said. “The hunting is a lot better in the wetlands.”

  “You can all go back to the Realms,” Evan said. “I’ll stay here. I can sail a ketch alone, if need be. I sailed to the wetlands—twice—to warn you, and to try to prevent the empress from gaining a foothold there. I kept the empress from getting her hands on you, but I failed in everything else. I am not a soldier, or a diplomat. I’m a pirate, and my weather mage gifts are most useful on the water.”

  The back-and-forth went on a while longer.

  “Look,” Evan said finally, “Celestine has thrown everything into the war in the wetlands, because she assumes that the war is won here. I’m going to show her that it’s not. Jenna, Cas, and the other dragons have destroyed her precious capital. I am going to reclaim her strongholds along the Desert Coast.

  “When she finds out, it may cause her to pull some of her troops and ships back from the Realms. That would be more helpful to you than anything I can do in the mountains. Besides, I’ve discovered that I don’t like cold weather.”

  “But—what if the empress controls Tarvos now?” Adrian said.

  “I’m used to dealing with Celestine’s crew. I promised my crew in Tarvos that I would come back, and I’m going to keep that promise. I’ll welcome anyone who wants to come with me, though I’ll tell you right now, it probably won’t end well.”

  “I’ll come,” Breon said, surprising everyone.

  “No!” Sasha said. “The empress brought you here for a purpose, and you don’t want to stay and find out what it is.”

  “I’m not planning to stay here,” Breon said, gesturing at the ruins of the marble palace. “The empress is in the wetlands. At least, I think she is. And the farther away I am from her, the better.”

  “You should come back with us,” Sasha persisted.

  “I’m a wanted man in the wetlands,” Breon said, “and I deserve to be. I don’t blame you for wanting me to come back and stand trial—”

  “That’s not what I want!” Sasha said. Then turned crimson as she looked around at the circle of faces. “I mean, I want you to come back and clear your name.”

  “I can’t clear my name when I’m guilty,” Breon said. “I would like to do something to make up for all the bad things I’ve done. I’d like to come back with you and kick the empress’s ass. But . . . I’m not a soldier, either. I’m useless in a fight. And I don’t want to see Evan stay here on his own. Maybe my gift could prove useful, in a pinch.”

  Evan looked from Sasha to Breon. “You can stay, Sasha, if you want. I mean, there is a chance that your queen is in Carthis.”

  “No,” Sasha said, tears streaming down her face. “She isn’t. I know she isn’t. She’s in the Realms, and I have to go there, even if it means riding on a dragon.”

  With that, the gaoler and her former prisoner embraced.

  That’s a strange friendship, Evan thought. But who am I to judge?

  In the end, Splinter and Splash decided to stay with Breon and Evan. “Two dragons, a shadowcaster, and a stormcaster,” Evan said. “Celestine’s days are numbered.”

  In the days following, Breon joined Ash, Sasha, and Evan in a push to get Destiny as close to seaworthy as possible before they went their separate ways.

  They had enough gear to equip three dragons for carrying passengers, and with only three humans flying, that was enough. Since there was no longer the need to wait until Destiny was ready to sail, the flyers prepared to go—Jenna and Cas, Ash and Goat, Sasha and Pricker. Slayer flew solo, carrying extra gear, ready to relieve the others as needed. The plan was that they would fly from the Northern Islands to Wizard Head, which was the shortest water crossing to the Realms.

  The day of departure was bittersweet. All of his life, Evan had been surrounded by rivals, enemies, superiors, and subordinates. Except for his brief time with Destin, Evan had never had real friends—or even peers. This was as close as he’d come since, and now he was saying good-bye. He knew from experience that some good-byes were forever.

  Evan removed the amulet that Destin had given him and extended it toward Adrian. “You need this more than I do,” he said.

  The healer shook his head. “No. Keep it. I’ll be in the north soon, where amulets are made. I’ll be fine.”

  Evan and Breon stood on the quay to see them off. But Evan had one more ask.

  “We’ve said that there is a chance that your queen—your sister—is in Carthis,” Evan said. “If so, I promise I will bring her back to you.” He paused. “But I want a promise from all of you in return.”

  “Which is?” Jenna said.

  “Destin Karn is important to me,” Evan said. “I want you to do everything you can to make sure he survives and thrives, no matter who wins.”

  Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “I knew it! You were working together all along.”

  “Guilty,” Evan said, without guilt. “Do I have your promise?”

  And so it was agreed.

  52

  REGIME CHANGE

  Lila hadn’t been in the great hall since she’d escorted the runaway prince back to the palace. Now it was transformed and swarming with activity. The Gray Wolf banners had been ripped down and replaced with the red hawk of Arden. The Ardenine colors and signia seemed to be everywhere.

  The windows were open, admitting a welcome breeze on this warm evening.

  To Lila’s eyes, it looked more like a party or reception than a meeting or a tribunal. It resembled the king’s more formal occasions in Arden—servants circulating, plenty of food and drink, everyone carrying weapons under their clothes. Shadow and DeVilliers had elected to stay away, after extracting a promise from Lila to give them a full report.

  Lila, of course, didn’t have a choice. Karn insisted that she come along.

  It was a walking-around kind of a party, but Lila noticed that a table had been placed on the dais at the front of the room, elaborately set with royal regalia. Nobody was sitting there yet.

  Lila plucked two silver cups of wine off a passing tray, noting that they carried the Montaigne M, and the hawk of Arden.

  “How did all this fancyware get here so quick?” Lila muttered, handing one to Karn.

  “Jarat brought wagonloads along with the military train,” Karn said.

  “I guess he was pretty sure of winning,” Lila said.

  “I guess you could say that,” Karn said, nodding to several members of the King’s Guard as they passed by. “It’s easy to win if you fix the game.”

  “Are you sure I’m not going to be hauled away in chains?”

  “I’m never sure of anything, but I put in a word for you. It helps that you are known to be a bannerless opportunist.” Karn laughed at Lila’s scowl.
“Look, Jarat knows you’re here. You’d already be in chains if he wanted you to be. He wouldn’t waste his fine wine on anyone he planned to execute.”

  “What did you do with Vega’s body?” Lila said.

  “He’s still dead,” Karn said, raising his glass. “And he’s where nobody will ever find him.”

  Lila peered into her cup and sniffed. “What are the chances this is poisoned?” she said. “Who’s doing the pouring?”

  “This is a new regime, remember?” Karn said. “It’s all been vetted and tasted ahead of time, then locked up since.”

  “Well, then,” Lila said, “bottoms up.” She drained her cup and grabbed another. “There are a lot of people here,” she said, scanning the crowd. “Including most of the nobility and the council members. Even the Manders are here! What’s that about? Doesn’t anyone know how to hold a grudge anymore? Isn’t anyone in gaol?”

  “I suppose you could say that the Manders have made a deal with the new regime. After all, they were playing with a poor hand, being the parents of a traitor and a murderer. The Queen’s Guard is confined to quarters, those who are still alive. The wizards who weren’t able to flee to Gray Lady are all collared. None of the copperheads have come down to the city.”

  Lila debated telling Karn about her specialized collars. Then decided she would tell him when and if he needed to know it.

  At that moment, there was a stir at the front of the room. A trumpet played a fanfare, and an honor guard of blackbirds marched in. Next came Princess Mellony, elegant in a black silk gown, diamonds glittering at her neck and a diamond tiara on her head. After an awkward pause, Julianna Barrett arrived in a plain black suit with a gray shawl draped over one shoulder, subtly embroidered with—Lila squinted—fellscats.

  “I’ve got to move closer to the front,” Destin said, threading his way forward until he stood next to the dais. Lila followed him up to get a good view. Up close, she could see that there was some kind of a dispute going on between queen regent and princess. It seemed to have to do with clothes, because at one point Mellony tried to pull the shawl off Julianna’s shoulder and the princess gripped her mother’s wrist and hissed, “Leave me alone, Mother.”