“You cannot even reach Okthora anymore,” Melwar said. “Why obey the law of an absent master?”
Rondel raised the Liryometa. “That’s why you’re a poor Maantec, Melwar. You claim to follow the old traditions, but you don’t understand them at all. How many Maantecs never met Iren Saito, yet faithfully served him? You haven’t a clue what honor or duty or love even mean.”
“I will not need to when I am the Maantec emperor!” Melwar lashed out with his sword. The blade moved so fast Iren could barely track it. It was coming for his gut. There was no time to dodge.
A blow from the side knocked him down. He rolled in the dirt and gasped.
Rondel stood where Iren had been a second ago. Melwar’s twisting sword speared her chest.
“Rondel!”
Melwar withdrew his blade, and Rondel dropped to the ground. Iren crawled forward and grasped her by the shoulders.
Blood trickled from Rondel’s lips, but she curled them into her wide, sarcastic grin. “A mother protects her children, no matter what.”
She closed her eyes. Her breathing stopped. Yet even as she died, she kept on smiling.
Tears ran down Iren’s cheeks. It had happened again. During the battle with the Quodivar leader two years ago, Rondel had seemed to die. Iren had hardly known her back then. He’d idolized her as a powerful warrior, but now he knew better. There was so much more to her. A traitor. A hero. A murderer. A parent. An enemy.
A friend.
White light, ever so faint, appeared on Iren’s left hand. He eyed it with disbelief. He’d lost contact with his magic. What was this glow?
Melwar seemed not to notice. “Do not cry for her,” he said. “She betrayed you. She betrayed all Maantecs.”
“Stop talking,” Iren murmured. He had no idea what he would do against the might of the Darkness Dragoon, but he couldn’t bear to listen to Melwar’s ignorance. He stood. “You think you have so much power, but for all your strength, you’re a failure. You couldn’t manipulate me into being your puppet. You couldn’t defeat Rondel. You couldn’t kill the Kodamas. You couldn’t stop the dragons from taking over your body. And do you know why?” He was screaming now. “It’s because you don’t know anything about them! You never saw any of them as people. They were only ever obstacles for you to overcome!”
Melwar’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think you can speak about it, whelp? I have succeeded where even your father failed. I united the Maantecs. I brought them here. I will conquer this world and give it to our people. I am a Melwar. I do not fail.”
“Your whole life has been nothing but failure. It’s because you can’t accept those failures that you’ve become so demented.”
“Show me then how I failed from your grave!” Melwar thrust at Iren.
Iren was ready for the outburst. He ducked the blow, drew the Muryozaki, and slashed up into Melwar’s Dragoon armor. There was no magic behind his attack, but the Muryozaki was dragonscale. It clanged against Melwar’s armor and left a dent.
Iren ran behind Melwar and struck again, but the Darkness Dragoon was expecting it this time. He dodged, and his sword arced around and cut Iren in the right shoulder. Iren dropped to the ground beside Rondel’s corpse.
“You see?” Melwar said. “This is the power that comes with ultimate success.”
From his spot in the dirt, Iren’s face was level with Rondel’s. The woman looked so peaceful. She’d died to save him, but she must have known Melwar would kill him in the end. How could she die happy, knowing her sacrifice was meaningless?
“Because it wasn’t meaningless,” a voice rang inside Iren’s head, one he’d heard before. “Rondel told you she believed you could defeat Melwar. She died still believing that.”
Iren went rigid. “Dad?”
“You can win, Akio.”
Iren looked at his left hand. That faint white glow was still there.
That’s right. Divinion had explained it to him before. Strong emotions could make magic act unpredictably. It had happened before when Rondel had seemed to die.
Except Iren didn’t have any magic. He’d exhausted it all as the Dragoon.
No, that wasn’t correct. He did have one more source he could draw on.
Iren rose and faced Melwar. He sheathed the Muryozaki. He didn’t need it for this. He held out his left hand, palm up. The glow brightened and enveloped his hand.
Then it ignited.
“What?” Melwar asked. “You can’t use magic.”
“Stand there and take it, then,” Iren growled.
White flames shot up from his palm. He forced his will into them, ordering them to condense.
Beneath his helmet, Melwar’s sulfurous eyes went wide. “That can’t be!” He swung his sword.
The flames released a tendril that formed a shield around Iren. Melwar pummeled it with slashes, but the shield held firm.
The white fire in Iren’s hand shrank. In his previous attempts he could never get it shorter than his forearm. Now it was the length of his hand, then the size of a cherry.
Iren had no idea where the will to force the magic into shape came from. It had taken both him and Divinion five minutes to create this spell as the Dragoon. This one was getting smaller by the second. The spell seemed to act of its own accord.
Maybe it was because of the magic he was using. That was the secret to Muryoka’s perfect form, after all. His father had shared it with him. If you were the Dragoon, you could rely on Divinion to help cast the spell. If you weren’t, the only way to create a perfect Muryoka was to use all your biological magic. You had to put so much of yourself into it that it killed you.
Yet even that sacrifice wouldn’t guarantee victory. Melwar could use Shadow Form to avoid the spell.
Iren’s eyes burned as brightly as the flame in his hand. He would have to wait until Melwar committed to an attack. When Melwar’s sword embedded in Iren’s flesh, the Darkness Dragoon would have to be solid. Then, and only then, could Iren hit him.
Muryoka finished, and Iren let its shield dissolve. Melwar’s final blow came. Iren waited for it to reach within inches of his head.
He lunged. His hand reached out and touched Melwar on the chest.
White flames exploded from Iren’s palm. They erupted across the land, blasting through Melwar like he wasn’t even there.
As the attack faded, Iren cursed. At the moment he’d released Muryoka, Melwar’s sword had passed cleanly through Iren’s head. Iren was still alive. He’d failed. Melwar had used Shadow Form.
Iren sank to his knees, utterly spent. His breath came in heaves. Rondel and Dad had given him one last chance of victory, and he’d blown it.
Melwar towered over him. The Yaryozaki descended.
It never landed. Melwar screamed, a wrenching, writhing cry. His Dragoon armor glowed white. Iren averted his eyes, but the explosion was still all but blinding.
When Iren at last had the courage to look again, Melwar was gone. All that remained was a smoking black sword.
In Melwar’s place was a different man, dressed not in Dragoon armor but homespun linen clothes. To anyone else he would have seemed an ordinary farmer, but Iren recognized him right away.
“Dad!”
Iren Saito smiled. “You did well, son.”
“But how? What happened? Why are you here?”
“To use Muryoka, you have to sacrifice your life,” Saito said. “You thought you were using your biological magic to cast it, but you weren’t. You used mine. I transferred it to you while you were the Dragoon. I was the sacrifice. After your spell missed Melwar, I used my will to convert it back into a physical form. When Melwar attacked, I struck him from behind with the same energy.”
“So you defeated him! And you’re alive again!”
Saito shook his head. “If anyone can claim credit for defeating Melwar, it’s you and Rondel. As for being alive, I’m not. I’m not truly Iren Saito. I’m the bits of magic and spirit that remain from the Muryoka, and from the spe
ll I used to trap myself inside the Muryozaki. It’s not enough to stay here. I have a few more seconds, and then I’ll disappear.”
“No!” Iren jumped up and embraced his father. “I finally got to meet you for real. I finally got to have a parent. Please don’t leave now!”
Saito smiled again, even wider. A tear slid down his cheek. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. But I died twenty years ago. Even so, I was never at peace, because I split myself to enter the Muryozaki. Now I can finally rest.” He chuckled. “Besides, Carita and Rondel have already gone ahead of me. I shudder to think what stories they might tell about me if I’m not there. It’s time I joined them.”
Iren wiped his eyes. “I watched the memory,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve it. Thank your mother. She’s stronger than I ever could have been. If you’ve grown up the way she wanted you to, it’s because of her.”
Saito faded, but Iren clutched his father until the last. “I love you,” he said.
“And I will always love you,” Saito replied. “Good-bye, Akio.”
Iren stepped forward. His father was gone.
A sharp blow to the head dropped Iren to the ground. He looked up through bleary eyes, but he couldn’t stand.
A woman with long black hair walked into view. She met Iren’s gaze with a jaded stare.
“Hana?” Iren managed.
Hana Akiyama ignored him. She knelt and picked up the Yaryozaki.
“What are you doing?” Iren asked. “That thing’s dangerous.”
“I know,” Hana said. “That’s why I’m taking it.”
“Where?”
“Where no one else can get it. Even without the Stone Dragon Hammer, I can get a good ways down. I’ll travel so far underground that no one can find it and return to the surface alive.”
Iren’s eyes widened as he realized what Hana meant to do. “Wait!” he said. “There has to be another way!”
“I followed your battle from underground,” Hana explained. “I heard Rondel. She healed Serona, so I can’t throw it into those flames. If I tossed it in the ocean, some fisherman might pull it up in a net. No, this is the only way.”
Iren struggled with both arms to lift himself. He fell back to the dirt.
“That’s why I hit you,” Hana said, pointing at him. “I figured you’d do something stupid and heroic to stop me.”
“Hana, please.”
“This is the way I want it. It’s just like your father said. I have someone waiting for me, too.”
Hana sank into the earth with the Yaryozaki in hand. Iren tried once more to reach out and restrain her, but she was too far away. She smiled, and then her head vanished beneath the surface. A moment later, Iren blacked out.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Maantec Restoration
Iren groaned as he came to. He lay on soft grass, the blades kissing his face as they waved in the breeze.
He tried to sit up, but his head swam. He reached back and felt a lump behind his left ear. Tears welled in his eyes. He’d hoped it had all been a bad dream.
With a great effort he attempted to sit again. This time he made it, though he teetered like a drunkard. Sure enough, there was no sign of Hana or the Yaryozaki.
Rondel lay next to him, still grinning. What Iren wouldn’t give to hear her speak one more time! To have her berate him or call him names or launch into some sarcastic tirade. She was probably giving his father all he could handle right now.
The thought made him smile, just a little.
“Exalted Emperor?” a voice asked from behind him. “How do you feel?”
Iren’s senses went on alert. He whirled around, but the movement was too much. He had to put a hand on the ground. He was helpless against whomever had shown up.
Strong hands grabbed him. Armored in layered steel, they held him upright.
Iren looked into the face of the man who steadied him. He had brown eyes and hard features under a well-crafted helmet.
It took Iren a moment, but then he remembered who the man was. “I met you before,” Iren said. “You were the samurai standing beside Melwar’s palanquin. You commanded his army. Your name was Daichi, right?”
Even though Daichi was kneeling, he bowed as best he could. The motion nearly sent both him and Iren sprawling on the grass. “I am honored you remember me, Exalted Emperor.”
Iren rolled his eyes. “At ease, Daichi. I’m in no shape to handle formality. I’m no good at it anyway.”
The samurai returned to his previous position but said nothing.
“What brings you here?” Iren asked when the silence became uncomfortable.
“We saw you fighting the dragon,” the samurai explained. “When we saw the Holy Dragoon, it removed any doubt from our minds. We knew for certain that you were our emperor, that you were Iren Saito reborn.”
Iren shook his head. “I’m not. I may be his son, but Iren Saito is someone I’ll never be.”
“Your humility is as honorable as your fighting prowess.”
Iren resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. “Anyway, why are you by yourself? What happened to the rest of Melwar’s army?”
Daichi sucked air through his teeth. “Exalted Emperor, the traitor’s army no longer exists.”
Iren’s eyes widened. “What are you saying?” he asked. He gripped Daichi’s arms. “Did Shadeen kill them?”
“Forgive my poor speech,” the samurai replied. “The men are all still alive. I left them where they stood so I could scope out the situation. What I meant to say is that it is no longer proper to refer to us as the traitor’s army. We follow the emperor. We are yours now.”
Iren put his hand to his head to fight off yet another dizzy spell. His plan had worked.
Now it was time to put that plan to good use. He pushed into a standing position, managing it only because Daichi continued to support most of his weight. “Daichi,” he said, “I have a command for you as your emperor. As of now, you and all Maantecs are no longer at war with humans. The traitor’s conquest was never in our people’s best interests. I’ll have no more killing.”
Daichi bowed his head. “I hear and obey, Exalted Emperor. I will spread the word to the men.” He sucked air through his teeth again. “Exalted Emperor, may I ask you a question?”
Iren was already tired of the “Exalted Emperor” nonsense. Just ask him! He sighed. “Please, Daichi, say what you will.”
“Our people cannot return to Shikari,” Daichi said. “Now that the traitor is dead, we have no way to calm the ocean storms. I will go where you command, but most of these men are not samurai. They were torn from their homes and farms. What will become of them if we surrender to the Lodians?”
All this time, Iren had wondered what kind of man Daichi was. The over-the-top honor and support could be tricks, ploys to convince Iren that Daichi was loyal when in fact he still believed in Melwar.
But the samurai’s question solidified Iren’s opinion of him. This man was a true leader, someone who put the needs of his subordinates ahead of his own. Had Daichi led the Maantecs instead of Melwar, this war never would have happened.
Iren couldn’t disappoint him. “Daichi, I wouldn’t abandon these men any more than you would. I’m their emperor. I’ll find a way to help them.”
What he left unsaid was that he had no idea what that way might be. The Lodians would never accept thousands of Lefts settling in their country.
While Iren was still puzzling out an answer, Daichi looked off toward the west. “Exalted Emperor, someone approaches.”
Iren turned to follow Daichi’s gaze. The moment he did, he felt both elated and dismayed.
It was Minawë.
“Daichi,” Iren said, “let me stand on my own.”
The samurai obeyed, and Iren, on his full weight for the first time since the battle, almost fell. He forced himself to keep upright. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
Minawë pounded tow
ard them. When she arrived, she grabbed Iren by the shirt with both fists and roared in his face, “You crazy . . . stupid . . . lucky . . . moron!”
Daichi’s hand went to the katana at his waist, but Iren stopped him with a shake of his head. He deserved every name Minawë had just hurled at him.
He was about to speak when Minawë released him. She had caught sight of Rondel lying in the grass. She fell to her knees. “Mother!”
The sobs came loud and long. Minawë clutched Rondel to her chest, the tears soaking into her clothes. Iren had held back until now, but something about Minawë’s outburst cut through his shock and made it all real. He cried without restraint, caring not at all for the samurai watching him.
“How did she die?” Minawë finally asked, when the two had no more tears to give.
“Saving me,” Iren said.
“She sacrificed herself for you?”
“I won’t ask you to forgive me.”
Minawë stood. She shook her head and wiped her eyes. There was no anger in them. “Moron,” she repeated. Then she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.
“Daichi,” Iren said when he could breathe again, “would you mind giving us a few minutes alone?”
Daichi bowed and stepped away. He put his back to them.
“Rondel told me how you wounded Shadeen,” Iren said. “I wish I could have seen it. You were amazing.”
A hint of pride flashed on Minawë’s face, but it soon disappeared. Her eyes drifted to Rondel. “I would have died after that attack if she hadn’t saved me. I can’t believe she’s gone. I’ve had to lose my mother twice.”
Iren loosed a long breath. “I know what you mean.”
Minawë released him. She eyed him quizzically.
In response to her look, Iren told her about Saito’s appearance. “I didn’t defeat Melwar,” he concluded. “Father did. Rondel did. They’re the heroes.”
“Moron, you did plenty. We both did. Besides, the most important task is still left. What are we going to do about Melwar’s army?”
“I was trying to figure that out when you arrived. I have no idea. They can’t stay here, and they can’t return to Shikari.”
The Flames of Dragons Page 30