by Leslie Chase
"Zardan," she gasped, putting her arms around him. "Are you alright?"
He laughed, a hard, ragged sound. "As long as I've protected you, everything is fine."
Gillian hugged him tighter, feeling her heart swell. But above them, with a wet gurgling sound, Karaos laughed too. Blood poured from the wound in his chest, and he didn't move, but the sinister sound of his laughter filled the room.
"Don't celebrate yet," he managed to force out. "You may have taken my life, but I will have my revenge upon you both."
"What the hell do you mean?" Gillian's father demanded, stepping out from behind the table warily. Karaos pulled his gaze up, looking him in the eye as Gillian listened with a growing sense of horror.
"Sarax is already on his way to kill your brat," Karaos answered in a hateful hiss. "I ordered him to go unless I told him not to."
He groaned, blood bubbling from his lips, and slumped down on the spear. The light dimmed in his eyes, but the smirk stayed on his lips even as his breathing slowed. He forced out his last words. "I die, but I... still... win."
Having used the last of his breath to spit his final taunt, he fell silent and still.
Gillian gasped in fear, her arm tightening around Zardan as the cold dread set in again.
22
Zardan
Looking up at his mate, Zardan tried to focus past the pain. That last fight had reopened his wounds and he could feel the blood trickling down his back. But he'd done it. He'd beaten Karaos and saved Gillian.
Only now, it seemed, that might not be enough after all.
"What has he done?" Zardan asked as he pulled himself to his feet. Gillian tried to steady him, supporting his weight.
"He sent his other dragon shifter, Sarax, after Harry!" Gillian's voice was near panic, and Zardan shook his head. No. He could not permit that.
"I'll stop him," he promised. "He won't reach the farm."
"You can't! You're too badly hurt, you can't shift!" Gillian clung to his arm as he pulled himself towards the door. He looked back with a crooked smile at her perseverance — even injured, he was more than strong enough to pull her along with him, no matter how hard she struggled to stop him. But that wouldn't stop his mate from trying.
Nothing would keep her from protecting him, just as nothing could keep him from saving her. They were mates, after all.
Gently but firmly he pulled her hands away. It hurt to let go of her, but he had no choice. He couldn't stand by and let her suffer, let Harry die. And there was no one else here who could stop Sarax. It has to be me.
"I can, and I will," he told her firmly. "I promised you that I'd save your family, and what kind of a dragon would I be if I didn't honor my oath?"
"A live one," Gillian snapped, tears glistening in her eyes. "I don't want to lose you, Zardan. I thought you were dead for a minute there, and it was the worst minute of my life."
The sight of her pain drove a spike into Zardan's soul, but he couldn't let it stop him. If she must lose someone, let it be me. I've got little enough left in me, and Harry has his whole life ahead of him.
"You won't lose me," he said aloud, wincing at the lie. It wasn't exactly untrue, he didn't want to die, but with his injuries his chances of survival were slim. That didn't matter, though. Gillian wasn't going to lose her brother the way he had lost his family.
"I could ask you to swear it," Gillian said, her voice thick with tears. "But I know that you wouldn't. So instead, I'll give you my blessing. Go and get that bastard."
Kissing him on the lips, she held him tight for a moment, and he could almost feel her sorrow and her love pressing against him. Then she let go and stood back, cheeks wet as she turned away.
Steeling himself, he stood tall and straight. The pain was almost too much to bear, but he couldn't show weakness in front of Gillian. Not now. Let her last memory of him be of a glorious warrior on his way to battle.
Turning his back on her tears was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, but he managed it.
The cold bit into Zardan's skin as he stepped out of the airlock again. He ignored it, ignored everything but the weight of his responsibility to Gillian. The thought of her put a smile on his face and he focused on that feeling, trying to ignore the inevitable pain of shifting.
It was agony. As though someone poured molten iron down his back. Or tore his wings apart. Or...
There were no words for it. Nothing could have prepared Zardan for that moment. But he held the image of Gillian in his mind, the knowledge that his mate needed him to do this, and the pain passed. Faded to a nagging ache that flared again as he tentatively flexed his wings.
I can do this. For her.
Getting airborne was the worst part of it. He leaped skyward, spreading his wings and catching the energy fields that surrounded Mars. His weight landed on his injured wings and he nearly passed out as he beat them, rising higher and higher and turning north.
Later, he promised himself. When Sarax is dead and Gillian's family is safe. Then I can rest.
It was a bitter irony. Now that he had something to live for again, someone who lit up his life, he was chasing after his death. Zardan had no illusions about how well he'd fare out there on the ice, not in his condition.
But that made no difference to his determination. To not see his mate again would be a tragedy. To fail her and live — that would be unthinkable.
Once he was high in the dark sky he found he could manage to fly without too much difficulty. The pain was still there, a constant burning feeling in the muscles of his back, but it didn't stop him making good speed north. And, with a dragon's eyesight, he could see Sarax ahead of him. The other dragon was far ahead, but not, Zardan hoped, too far to catch up. He set himself the fastest pace he could maintain, soaring after his prey and keeping as high as he could above the red desert below.
The barren rocks of Mars gave way to snow and ice under Zardan by the time he got close to Sarax. It felt like he was keeping himself aloft through sheer willpower now, but he finally had his target in sight.
Fortunately, Sarax had taken a leisurely pace. The other shifter had no reason to think he was being pursued, and conserving energy made sense on a long flight like this. If he'd hurried, Zardan knew he'd never have caught up.
Even as it was, the chase would be a near-run thing.
Zardan's shadow fell on the ice below him, and he could see the holes in his wings where the light passed through. His injuries hurt more with each beat of his wings — but he was gaining. Slowly but surely, Zardan closed on his prey.
Beneath them he saw the great rift in the ice below which the Grace of Herendar rested.
I can't put off my attack, we're too close to the ice farm, Zardan thought, and beat his wings harder, gaining altitude as he closed the gap. The first strike would be his best chance of a clean victory.
But some of that movement must have caught Sarax's eye because the other dragon turned to look back. Their eyes met, and Zardan saw Sarax's widen in surprise. For just a moment, his prey was frozen, and Zardan wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to strike.
Furling his wings against his sinuous body, he swooped. All of his awareness shrank down to Sarax as he bore down on the other dragon, his talons outstretched to strike.
Sarax had only a moment to recover before Zardan reached him, and he almost didn't make it. At the last moment, though, he twisted aside and spat fire. The blast wasn't directed enough to hurt another dragon, but it was enough to blind Zardan for a crucial second, and Sarax's desperate turn meant that Zardan only struck a glancing blow. His talons tore the scales from Sarax's throat, but he failed to inflict a deeper wound, and then he was past.
His wings opened with a snap, and agony shot through his back as they took the full weight of his warform. Wheeling around as quickly as he could, he saw Sarax diving after him. Whatever else Zardan might think about the man, he wasn't running from a fight.
Good, Zardan thought. If Sarax ran from me, I wouldn't be
able to catch him a second time.
But Sarax was no coward and wanted the battle settled as much as Zardan did, diving towards him with murder in his eyes. Waiting until the swooping dragon was nearly on him, Zardan folded his wings at the last moment, letting momentum carry him as he rolled in the air. Sarax's jaws snapped shut where Zardan's right wing had been a moment earlier, and then they struck at each other, claws tearing.
Sarax found the soft scales of Zardan's underbelly, raking them viciously, but Zardan ignored the pain. He had plenty of practice at that now. Instead of defending himself, he latched on, throwing his tail around Sarax as he dug his claws into the other dragon to cling for dear life. Sarax threw his wings wide, trying to level out his flight, but supporting the weight of two dragons was too much for him. Bound together, they fell into the rift, ice walls rising beside them.
Zardan felt razor-sharp talons tear at his flesh, and ignored it. He felt Sarax push at him desperately, and ignored that too. All his will was focused on one thing, holding onto Sarax and weighing him down. Together the two dragons tumbled towards the ice below.
Too slow, Zardan thought as they struggled. Sarax had too much control, and the ground wasn't rising to meet them as swiftly as he'd like. His vision darkened as Sarax's talons dug into his stomach.
Opening his jaws wide, he twisted his neck and struck. Rather than a vital organ, he closed his jaws on Sarax's wing and bit down hard. Bone gave under his jaws with a crack that he felt rather than heard, and Sarax convulsed in agony. Their half-controlled tumble turned into a plunging fall, and the two dragons tore at each other on the way down.
At the last moment, Zardan opened his wings. He didn't even try to disengage from the grapple, Sarax wouldn't let him go. But he could turn their fall into a dive, and turn so that Sarax was under him when they reached the ground.
This is for threatening my mate, he thought as he caught Sarax's eyes for one final moment. Then they struck the hard ice with a sickening crunch.
The impact jarred Zardan loose from his hold on Sarax, and they skidded apart. Rolling over and over, Zardan felt his own wings crack and snap against the hard surface of the glacier. He dug his claws in, slowing his tumble, until eventually he came to a stop.
Across from him, Sarax lay motionless on the ground. Blood poured down his foe's red scales, and the fire of hatred in his eyes was tinged with fear. Zardan struggled up to his feet, and the dragons stared at each other. Neither of them was in any condition to fly, and Sarax struggled to move at all. The light in his eyes dimmed as Zardan watched, and finally it was over. The three dragons who'd threatened his mate were all dead.
I did something worthwhile with my life, he thought, almost wistfully. His own blood stained the snow around him as he slowly tried to orient himself. It was strange, now, to look his death in the face. He wasn't frightened of it, but he did wish he had more time to spend with Gillian.
There's no point in wishing for what I can't have, he told himself. At least now she'll have a safe life and a prosperous one. I gave her that, even if I couldn't give her more.
Looking around, he realized that he knew where he had fallen. Above him, half way up the icy cliff, he could see the cave that led to the crashed starship. This was where it had all started, the place the whole conflict had been about. It seemed appropriate that it should all end here too.
The Grace of Herendar serves as my aunt's tomb, and Tollvan's. It will be a fitting resting place for me as well.
The effort of pulling his warform up the ice wall was almost too much for him and he barely made it up to the ledge where the cave waited. Shifting back, he pulled himself to his feet and staggered down the tunnel of ice. Lungs burning from the effort of holding his breath, Zardan barely made it to the ship's airlock — but the door slid open before him, as though welcoming him home. Darkness filled his vision and he fell across the threshold, letting the night take him.
I wish I could see Gillian one last time. Just once more. The memory of her smile rose before him, and then darkness.
23
Gillian
Gillian stared out at the ice, heart pounding as she rested her hands on the thick, cold glass in front of her. "We have to hurry!"
A rough laugh answered her. "This is as fast as it gets, lady. You're lucky you're here at all, right? I've got better things to do with my time."
Luck had nothing to do with it, money did, Gillian wanted to shout. But antagonizing the captain of their rented skyship wouldn't have been wise, and Captain Olsen was right. He'd agreed to their bargain quickly and he wasn't even charging too much. She'd have been willing to throw every last credit they had at getting back quickly, and he knew it.
Her father held her shoulder, looking ahead with the same intensity she was. Neither of them wanted to think about what they might find once they reached home, so the trip had been quiet. A skyship was faster than a crawler, of course, but still nowhere near as fast as a dragon. Whatever had happened, it would be over by the time they got home.
Trying to brace herself for bad news, she peered anxiously ahead. Zardan had managed to fly, she reminded herself. He'd gotten here ahead of them. It wasn't easy to keep faith but at least there was hope that he'd saved the day.
Gillian tried to take comfort from the errors on the communicator. The Willis ice farm was still cut off, but surely the message would have changed if the transmitter there had been destroyed? She had to admit that she didn't know, and her fear for her brother was a palpable force.
"There," her father said, breaking into her worries and pointing excitedly. "Look, on the ice. Is that blood?"
Dark red stained the white expanse below them, a trail leading over the edge of the rift in the ice. Gillian's heart froze at the sight of it. She couldn't bring herself to look too closely, for fear of seeing Zardan's body, so she turned away.
Captain Olsen slowed his ship, lowering it for a better look, and Gillian buried her head in her father's shoulder as he kept watch. He stiffened, putting an arm around her, and she knew that he'd seen something more. Not daring to look, she steeled herself for bad news.
"There's a dragon down there," he said. "Not moving. I... I don't know if it's Zardan."
She couldn't bear to see, but not knowing was even worse. Swallowing, Gillian turned to Olsen. "Can you land us near him?"
"Sure," the captain shrugged. "Not a problem, as long as he's not going to attack us."
His hands touched the controls lightly, carefully guiding the ship down to rest on the ice as Gillian pulled on her suit's helmet and gloves. She grabbed the ship's first aid kit just in case there'd be something useful inside. The skyship had barely touched down when she jumped from the airlock and hurried towards the fallen dragon.
Please don't be Zardan, please don't be Zardan, she prayed, keeping her eyes averted until she was practically on top of the giant body.
Once she did, it was clear that the long, sinuous body lying crumpled on the ice wasn't him. Gillian looked at the corpse with a feeling of relief and shuddering horror. The wounds were wrong, she could see that, and there was something about the face that wasn't right, wasn't Zardan. There was a cruelty to the jaw that wasn't her mate's.
This is ridiculous, I hardly saw him in his dragon form, her rational mind tried to protest. But it didn't change anything — she was certain on a level deeper than reason. This wasn't the shifter she knew; it had to be Sarax.
But that didn't mean that Zardan was safe, either. Sarax's talons were bloody, and there was a crimson trail on the ice, leading up the cliff towards the tunnel and the Grace of Herendar hidden within. She turned to follow it, heart in her mouth.
"Where are you going?" her father's voice crackled over the radio in her helmet. "We have to get to the farm, see if Harry's okay."
"You go on," she said. "I — I think he's fine, that's the dragon who was going to attack..."
Her words trailed off as she realized just how much blood was in the trail she was followin
g. How much blood could a dragon lose and still live? Gillian had no idea, but this didn't look good. Picking up her pace she hurried to the cliff face and looked up at it. The ice was broken where Zardan had climbed the steep incline, his talons digging in deep. That left a surface Gillian would be able to climb herself. Taking a hand-hold, she pulled herself up, trusting that anything which would take a dragon's weight would support hers.
The pause on the radio stretched out. Finally, her father broke it.
"If you're sure you'll be safe here," he said, sounding torn between staying to protect her and flying on to check up on Harry and the farm. Gillian shivered, praying that she was right and that the farm was safe.
"I'll be fine, just come back for me when you know that Harry's okay."
The skyship lifted without further protest, rising past Gillian as she scrambled her way up the wall. It wasn't easy, but in Mars's low gravity it was at least possible, and she wasn't going to abandon Zardan. Not when he needed her. Not when every second might count.
Pulling herself up onto the ledge, she made her way down the ice tunnel towards the ship buried in the glacier. The foreboding door loomed over her and Gillian realized that she had no idea how to open it. Would the ship let her in?
It has to, she told herself as she approached. And just before she touched it, the door slowly and ponderously slid aside. Gillian hoped that was a good sign, her heart hammering in her chest as she clambered up into the ship.
A bloody palm-print showed where Zardan had pulled himself aboard, and another by the far door led her inward. Gillian followed, taking her helmet off to see better. The blood trail was nearly non-existent in here, but she didn't need it anymore. She knew where she'd find him.
The door to the room they'd shared was shut, and Gillian paused outside, nerves overtaking her. Suddenly she wasn't sure if she wanted to see what waited inside. What if I find him dead? What do I do then?