The Flames of Dragons

by Josh VanBrakle

  Everyone in the room stood. “What news?” Elyssa demanded.

  “It’s the Left army! They’re withdrawing!”

  Dirio grabbed the man by both shoulders. “What did you say? Did the combined armies push them back?”

  “No! General Platarch did it. He fought the Left’s leader all by himself. He was amazing! He flew in the air!”

  Dirio grinned. That Balear . . . Dirio had always known the man was something special.

  “Let’s go congratulate him,” Dirio said.

  Riac’s face fell. “About that . . .”

  “Out with it,” Elyssa barked. “Where’s Balear?”

  Before Riac could say anything, another man burst through the doors. He was young; “man” might not be the right term for him. It took a moment for Dirio to recognize him as Pito, the teenaged squad leader.

  The boy looked on the verge of passing out. Sweat poured from him, and his chest heaved. “Captain!” he panted. “I’m glad I caught up to you. I saw it on my way up the steps. There’s something coming!”

  Riac frowned. “What did you see? What’s coming?”

  “A ship! It just entered the bay.”

  “Ships come and go all the time,” Elyssa spat. “We have bigger issues right now, child.”

  Pito quailed beneath the mayor’s gaze, but he somehow found the courage to say, “Not like this one, ma’am. It doesn’t look like any Lodian or Tacumsahen ship I’ve ever seen. And there’s something weird about it. I think it’s a Left ship.”

  Dirio cursed. So the army had been a diversion. It would draw their attention, and meanwhile a special Maantec unit would land inside their defenses at the harbor. A ship couldn’t hold that many soldiers, but even a few hundred would prove devastating. With Balear out fighting Hana, they had no mage to counter them.

  That was where Dirio belonged then. “Show me to the docks,” he commanded Pito. “Riac, you’re coming too.”

  Even though Dirio wasn’t their mayor, neither soldier questioned him. The trio launched from the room without another word.

  They charged through the city. As they ran, Dirio snagged a bow and quiver from the training square by the fountain. He also called to any archers he saw to join him at the docks. Their only hope was to sink that ship before it arrived.

  Even before he reached the pier, Dirio could tell Pito had been right about the ship. It wasn’t at all like the human vessels Dirio had seen in Kataile. It was much too large, and its two sails were a different design. They must be magical, because there was no way such an enormous ship could move with just them.

  Dirio ran to the pier’s end and drew an arrow. Barrels of pitch lined the dock, and he dipped his arrow into one of them. Riac grabbed a torch and lit it. Dirio in turn ignited his arrow. The other archers who had joined him did the same.

  The incoming ship stood no chance. One good shot would catch the vessel alight. With the training Kataile’s men had received from Riac and Balear, they would sink it long before it could reach them.

  The ship’s condition would make the job even easier. Now that it was closer, Dirio saw that it was barely holding together. Sections of hull were loose, and a chunk of railing had broken off.

  Dirio pulled back his arrow, but something stayed his hand. The way the vessel moved made no sense. Its sails were slack, yet it slid through the water. Ropes from the ship’s bow came forward and down into the bay. It was as though something else tugged the ship along.

  A great burst of water shot up from the sea. Dirio fell back on his rump; he’d never seen a geyser like that before. His arrow shot by accident, and it spluttered as it fell into the bay not ten feet from the dock.

  Riac laughed despite the tense situation. “Never seen a whale before, miner?”

  “A whale?”

  “Giant creature of the deep. It’s what’s pulling that thing.”

  Dirio stood. What on Raa was this ship? Shredded to pieces and towed by an animal? No one would use such a vessel for an assault.

  “Hold!” Dirio shouted. If he was wrong about this, everyone in Kataile was going to die. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to sink the ship. Whatever had put it in such a dire state, the people aboard it must be even worse off.

  “Bows away,” he ordered. “Swords and spears out. We’ll see what they want first. If they show any sign of hostility, cut them down before they can get into the city.”

  The crippled vessel inched its way deeper into the harbor. The whale guided it with precision. Dirio had no idea how intelligent whales were, but he doubted one could direct a ship like that on its own.

  When the vessel came within what Dirio hoped was shouting range, he called out, “Hail! Who docks at the Port of Kataile?”

  A man’s face popped up over the bow. Dirio recognized the tan hair and blue eyes at once. He would never forget the person who’d saved his life twice.

  “Ahoy!” Iren Saitosan shouted. He waved his arm in a wide arc, but then he reached back and grabbed his head. “Ow! What was that for?”

  An old woman’s face joined Iren’s. “All this time away, and the best you can think of to say when we arrive is ‘ahoy?’”

  Dirio laughed. “It’s all right, Rondel. I wouldn’t expect anything more.”

  “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Iren asked.

  “Knock it off, both of you,” a female voice said from the water. Dirio had no idea where it had come from. He looked down and noticed the whale was gone. In its place was a young-looking woman with long green hair bobbing in the surf.

  The Kodama swam over to the dock and climbed up. With a vigorous shaking, she flung water off her body. “Thanks for not shooting us,” she said. “I hoped that water spout would convince you we meant no harm.”

  Only one Kodama had escaped her race’s curse. “That was you, Minawë?” Dirio asked. “You were the whale?”

  “I’m not in a hurry to be one again, either,” Minawë said. “My days hauling ships around had better be over.”

  Dirio didn’t know if she was joking or not. He suspected not.

  Iren and Rondel leapt over the side of the ship and landed on the dock. Despite the forty foot drop, both made it without injury or even apparent effort. They joined Dirio and Minawë. Dirio motioned for the soldiers to put away their weapons.

  “It’s great to see you!” Iren said. “How have you been? Why are you in Kataile? Ow! Will you stop that?”

  Rondel had smacked him upside the head again. “Save the greetings for later,” she spat. She faced Dirio. Lightning Sight filled her eyes. “The Maantecs are invading Lodia. They’re landing at Ceere. You need to be ready.”

  “You’re a little late,” Dirio said. “They’ve already come.”

  Rondel cocked an eyebrow. “This city looks in surprisingly good condition for a Maantec attack.”

  Dirio smirked. “That’s the best part. I just heard the news. Five thousand Maantecs descended on us with Hana at their head. They would have torn this city apart were it not for Balear.”

  Iren grasped Dirio by the lapel. A few soldiers near him reached for their weapons, but Dirio waved them off.

  “Balear did?” Iren demanded. “How? Where is he? What happened?”

  Dirio gestured at Riac. “Actually, Riac here was just delivering the message when we heard about your ship. Captain, what’s the situation?”

  Riac gulped. “General Platarch fought the Lefts’ leader on the beach past the plateau. When I came to City Hall, the Left army was pulling back north. But General Platarch hasn’t returned. He and the Lefts’ leader are still on the beach, or at least they were when I came to tell you.”

  Dirio blanched. He wouldn’t believe it.

  Iren looked equally pale. “Your name’s Riac, right? You have to take me there.”

  Riac had no reason to trust the man in front of him. They’d never met. But something in Iren’s expression must have convinced him.

  “Come,” he said. “I’ll show you.”


  * * *

  Of all the people Iren had expected to meet at Kataile’s docks, Dirio had been last on his list. The miner was supposed to be in charge of Veliaf far to the north. What was he doing here?

  There was no time to question it now. As they ran through Kataile’s streets, all Iren could think of was Balear.

  Last year the pair of them had sparred in Akaku Forest. Iren knew what the man could do, and he had the utmost respect for him.

  Unfortunately, Iren had dueled Hana too. As skilled as Balear was, Hana far surpassed him. There wasn’t a chance the Lodian could have defeated her.

  They dashed up the beach. Ahead, Iren saw a mound rising from the sand. As they approached, he saw that the mound was made by two people.

  Hana stood as Iren, Rondel, Minawë, Dirio, and Riac arrived. Balear lay on his back, unmoving.

  “Balear!” Iren shouted. The man made no response.

  Hana stared blankly at Iren. Her face looked haunted, with puffy red eyes and deep tear lines down her cheeks. She didn’t seem at all surprised that Iren and the others had somehow found a way to Lodia. “That won’t work,” she murmured. “He’s dead.”

  Iren drew the Muryozaki. “How could you?” he demanded.

  The female Maantec shook her head. “I didn’t,” she said. “He did it to himself. He became the Dragoon.”

  Iren had nothing to say to that. He was too shocked. He had become the Dragoon almost two years ago, so he knew what the transformation was like, how near-to-impossible it was. The idea that Balear could do it boggled the mind.

  “We were fighting,” Hana continued. “I cornered him, trapped him in sand. He broke free, but he used too much magic. I thought he’d lost control. He almost turned into Ariok, but at the last second he overcame the Sky Dragon. He was amazing. He could have killed me in an instant, but instead he spared my life.”

  Rondel’s hand was on her dagger, but she kept it in its sheath. “And what will you do now?” she asked.

  Hana gazed down at the fallen Balear. She sniffled, but she didn’t cry. She had no more tears to give. “I don’t know yet,” she said. “I’ve sent Shogun Melwar’s army back to him, but I can’t return with them. Balear shattered the Enryokiri and sank the Rock Topaz far out at sea.”

  Iren’s eyes narrowed. “You can conceal the Enryokiri underground. This is some ploy, isn’t it?”

  When Hana’s eyes met his, Iren regretted speaking. Hana could lie and manipulate without difficulty, but this time she’d spoken the truth. “If you want to kill me, Iren Saitosan, then go ahead and do it,” she said. “I’ve failed the shogun. My life is forfeit.”

  Iren glanced from Hana to Balear and back again. He gripped the Muryozaki’s hilt. Hana had killed Balear. Even if she hadn’t struck the lethal blow, her presence had forced Balear to use the Dragoon. Iren himself had barely survived that transformation. Balear must have known it would be fatal.

  Rondel let go of her weapon. Iren rocked back in surprise. Of all people, Rondel should have struck first. She lived by Okthora’s Law. Hana had led an army to this place, slain hundreds of innocent people, and murdered Balear. How could Rondel let all that go?

  “Twenty-five years ago,” Rondel said, “I made a mistake, one of many. I tossed you aside. If I could have that moment again, I would make a different choice.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed for Kataile.

  Iren couldn’t help but watch the old woman. What was going on with her? She seemed like a different person even from their time on the ship.

  “Why don’t you come with us?” Minawë offered. “We can stop Melwar together.”

  “Is that sentiment, Kodama?” Hana asked. A hint of a sneer found its way into her voice.

  Minawë didn’t rise to the challenge. “It’s recognition,” she said. “You’re strong, even without the Enryokiri. We could use your help.”

  Hana shook her head. “Even now, I can’t betray the shogun. I’ve lived too long in his shadow. Maybe someday I’ll find another path, but for now, I need some time alone.”

  She put her back to them and started to walk away. Iren’s hand tightened and loosened around the Muryozaki’s hilt. This was his last chance to avenge his friend.

  Hana glanced over her shoulder. “Shogun Melwar is in Ceere. He intends to rebuild Haldessa Castle and use it as his base. If you want to stop him, that’s where you should look.”

  Minawë smiled. “Thank you, Hana.”

  Hana laughed. “Don’t thank me; I haven’t helped you. The shogun is invincible now. All I’ve done is point the way to your deaths. Farewell.”

  She stepped over the dunes and was gone.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  A Mother’s Advice

  Dirio Cyneric was no stranger to death. He’d worked in a mine. He’d seen his village ransacked by Quodivar, Yokai, and Fubuki. He remembered every Veliafan whose funeral he’d ever attended: every name, every face.

  But tonight’s was the most difficult by far. Dirio stood in the torchlit fields outside Tropos Vilage. Everyone in the tiny community had come out to see their son committed to the flames.

  Had it just been them, Dirio might have made it through the funeral as he had all the others. Instead, he could hardly move for the press of people around him. In fact, he couldn’t spot the locals anymore. They were swallowed up by the thousands of others who had come to pay their respects.

  Kataile had emptied. The armies of Terkou and Caardit had come as well. The Katailan soldiers had given Balear an honor guard the whole way to Tropos. Even now they crowded around the pyre that held their general, a man they’d once called traitor.

  The village priest recited from Lodia’s holy texts, but Dirio couldn’t listen any more. He left the throng and headed back toward Tropos.

  He’d just cleared the crowd when a female voice said from behind him, “Dirio, wait.”

  Dirio turned and saw Elyssa, Horace, and Otto approaching. He resisted the urge to groan. Of all those gathered here, he wanted to interact with politicians least of all.

  “What do you want?” he asked, not caring whether his displeasure showed.

  Elyssa carried a bag over her shoulder. She reached in and pulled out a scroll sealed with red wax. She offered it to Dirio. “I wanted to give you this,” she said.

  Dirio took it. He pressed his thumb under the seal to break it, but Elyssa grabbed his wrist.

  “Not here,” she said. “Read it later, in private.”

  “Why?” he asked. “What is it?”

  “Something I should have given to Balear.”

  “So why are you giving it to me?”

  “Because you were closest to him,” she said, “and because he believed in you.”

  “Some belief,” Dirio said. He looked past Elyssa to the gathered multitude. “He’s dead now.”

  “And he saved us all doing it,” Horace said. He and Otto stepped forward so they stood beside Elyssa. “Our men all see him as a hero, even though he fought against Lodia during King Angustion’s reign. That’s what convinced us.”

  “Convinced you of what?”

  Elyssa smiled. “That you should be Lodia’s king.”

  Dirio stepped back like she had punched him. “That’s ridiculous,” he said. He raised his palms in front of him. “I can’t do that.”

  “We’ve already voted,” Elyssa said. “All three of us picked you. That’s a majority, so it doesn’t matter what your vote is.”

  “I’m a mayor of three hundred people from a destroyed village,” Dirio protested. “I have no leadership experience.”

  “Your people followed you all the way to Kataile through snow and bitter cold,” Elyssa said. “You even convinced Balear to come. If it hadn’t been for you, he never would have agreed to support us.”

  Otto nodded his agreement. “When the rest of us would have denied you a seat at the table, Balear was the one who insisted you participate. He never came out and said it, but he knew you were the best choice.�
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  “More practically,” Horace cut in, “our forces all recognize Balear. If we went against his wishes, they’d never support us.”

  Dirio looked from one mayor to the next. So it wasn’t about honoring Balear. It was politics. He should have figured. What these mayors thought of him didn’t matter. Their people supported him, and they led at the will of the people.

  Even so, it was absurd. He couldn’t do it.

  If nothing else, though, it would end the civil war. These mayors were in agreement, and Kras was dead. There was no one else. With a Maantec army in Ceere, they couldn’t fight among themselves any more.

  He looked down at the scroll Elyssa had given him. If Balear were standing here, Dirio knew what the general’s opinion would be.

  Dirio sighed. He was almost fifty. He’d hoped that when all this was settled, he might enjoy a leisurely retirement. No such luck.

  * * *

  Iren did his best to blend in with the crowd, not an easy task with a white katana on his right hip. He accomplished it by hiding in the back where few people would look at him. Only Minawë stood beside him, and they hadn’t spoken since reaching Tropos.

  The village priest lit the pyre, and Balear’s corpse caught alight. Iren turned away and started walking.

  “Where are you going?” Minawë asked.

  Iren didn’t look back. “To put a question to rest.”

  “Wait, I’ll come with you.”

  “No,” he said, and he meant it. Minawë didn’t question him.

  Iren left the gathering in the fields. He didn’t have to travel far; his parents’ farm lay just a mile outside the village.

  The place looked as dismal as it had when he’d visited last year. The barn had collapsed, and vines overwhelmed the house. An opening remained where Iren had crashed through the door.

  He stepped up on the porch, but he didn’t enter. He sat gingerly on the decaying wood and closed his eyes. Drawing the Muryozaki, he concentrated until he entered the beach in his mind.

  Divinion appeared. He settled down on the sand in a loose coil. “He was a true Dragon Knight,” he said.