You can’t order me.
I think ... I think I can. I thought slowly. After all, if you accepted me as rider, you accepted me as the one to decide where we would go and what we would do. I think that means that if I really have to, I can order you. And I’m ordering you now. Go!
I pushed on, we were getting close to the caves – I thought - climbing the stairs from terrace to terrace. I was mostly carrying Berun now. She hadn’t spoken for long minutes, though she continued to cough intermittently.
If the golems were firing down fire – and they probably were, then I couldn’t see it happening or hear the shouts of their victims. The storm raged too fiercely.
Bataar struggled beside me, carrying Zin now. The wind was too strong for anything else.
I felt the power of the golems overhead before I saw the fire flashing around us, but in the thick of the dust, they couldn’t find us.
Flame burst to our left, searing the landscape but missing us by a stone’s throw. I barely saw it in the storm. Another surge of flame swept the ground behind our heels. We didn’t stop. We hurried on, slowed by our burdens. My mouth was dry, my heart hammering, my lungs choking in the dust.
We needed a plan. The golems had one, but we were just running blindly forward – literally! That was no way to win.
“Bataar!” I called.
He kept his head ducked as he fought the wind.
“I’m sorry that I took your place.”
His eyes stared at me over his dust cloth.
“I’m busy, Tor! Or hadn’t you noticed we’re under attack!”
But what good would it be if we lost to the golems just because he couldn’t work with me?
“We need to work together to get them to safety!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he yelled over the wind. “These are my people, Tor. They are my responsibility, and those stupid tattoos of yours don’t make you their leader and they don’t make these your people.”
“Fine!” I agreed. Like I’d even wanted this. “But let me help!”
“Help how?”
“Let me close the doors for you!” I’d seen how he looked when we were speaking about it. I knew he was planning to do it himself.
“That is not your place!” he said, struggling through the dust. “These are my people.”
“Then lead them, you fool!”
His gaze met mine, fire and anger.
“Lead them in the caves,” I said. “Or do you want me in there talking to them? Telling them things from my perspective.”
“No!” his shout was easy to hear over the wind.
“Don’t they call me the sacrifice?”
“Yes.”
“Then let me sacrifice. You’ve seen me. If anyone can survive the unsurvivable, it’s me!”
His gaze was forward again. Focused on our path. We stumbled up another staircase and I tripped, barely catching myself. Berun was nothing more than a dead weight now. I dragged her past the impediment and almost fell a second time. I stared down and my heart fell.
There were bodies here, charred by flame, contorted horribly in their deaths. The dust storm must not have covered their flight as well as it had covered ours. I swallowed down bile. They hadn’t been fast enough. I hadn’t been fast enough. I should have guessed that the attack was coming.
“Because you’re all-knowing now,” my mimic laughed. “Add that to our list of talents!”
I had been unconscious for five days. Wherever we were, five days was a long time. A flying golem could fly without rest. Of course, they had found this place. Perhaps Apeq had even sent them before he entered the doorway. I still didn’t know how long we’d spent in there.
“Weeks, I’d guess,” the mimic said. He looked unruffled by the death around him, though his face was a bit pale.
We almost hit the rock wall before we realized what it was. Bataar threw up a hand before we hit it – a warning. As we sheltered against it, I checked Berun. Was she breathing? Barely.
Her head lolled and her voice was weak. I bent so my ear was close to her lips.
“Save us,” she gasped. “Save my people.”
“I’m trying,” I said grimly.
Her next breath was a rattle. I leaned in, trying to see if she still lived, but in the storm, it was too hard to tell – too hard to feel for breath when air streamed around us – too hard to feel for a heartbeat when we were buffeted by winds.
“Tor!” Bataar called and I hurried to where he stood. He’d found the door.
A pair of Kav’ai guarded it, swords held out as if they could fend off golems with pointed steel. Around them, bodies were piled on the ground. I tried not to look, but I saw a pair of eyes before I could look away and I turned to the side to throw up. There were people in that pile who shouldn’t be there. People who were family and friends to those within. Bodies too old or too small for such violence.
I shoved Berun into the arms of one of the guards with a curt, “Take care of her.”
Bataar paused in the doorway to the cave with Zin still in his arms. I reached for her, but he ducked away.
“She’s not yours, Ko’roi.”
“Not yours, either, last I checked.”
His eyebrows rose. “That could change.”
Interesting.
“You must keep her safe,” I challenged. “Promise me.”
“I owe you no promises,” Bataar said darkly.
“Promise.” My voice was low.
He looked away. “I’d never let harm befall her. But whether she survives depends on you, Ko’roi. Don’t you have a tower to climb to?”
I nodded curtly and he turned and finally met my gaze, hostility gone – for now.
“Do not fail us, sacrifice.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said wryly and turned on my heel back into the raging dust.
My heart was already in my throat. I’d made promises I couldn’t possibly keep. But I had to keep them. Especially now that Zin’s fate rode on my actions, too. I didn’t dare fail her. Her last prophecy rang in my ears.
His path is clear and true. His way is set before him. He bars them in with walls of rocks. He finds their salvation.
Let’s hope I can live up to that, Zin.
Chapter Nine
THE GOLEMS WERE WHEELING again. Glimpses of their dark bodies showed at every break in the dust storm. They were wheeling above me, waiting for the dust to clear enough to swoop down and attack. And the caves still weren’t safe – not until I could shut the doors.
I didn’t have a moment to waste. I scrambled up the steps, lost already in the dust, but hoping that by moving upward I’d be headed toward the tower.
My dust veil barely kept the swirling sand from choking me as I darted up the steps and then across one terrace to reach the next set of steps. Flashbacks of my time in the Trial came back in bursts. Steps and terraces here became ladders and platforms there in my mind’s eye. Maybe my mimic could help me out again. Maybe he could beat me to the tower.
“Yeah, see the thing about that is that I could do things in the trials because it was a non-corporeal world,” he said lazily, yawning idly from a place a little ahead of where I was running. “Here I don’t have a body. Not really. I’m just in your mind. A horrible mirror of who you are meant to taunt you forever.”
“I’m not you,” I muttered as I climbed. My fingernails were growing ragged from fumbling against the rough stone. “You’re lazy and mocking and useless.”
“I’m not your better half, I’ll admit that,” he said, “but I’m definitely a version of you that could exist – that would have existed without Hubric’s intervention.”
What a horrible thought. I hated this rotten apple already. I felt my cheeks heating at the thought. Did other people think that about me?
A burst of fire flashed across the ground right in front of me and I flinched against the rock wall. This would be a good time to have help from a dragon.
We’re overwhelmed right
now.
They were under attack?
Don’t be angry.
Why did those words make me think there was a reason to be angry?
I couldn’t leave you here. Hubric wouldn’t have left anyway. We’re launching a counter-attack. Or we were, before they turned the tables on us.
I clenched my jaw grimly. I told her to leave!
I don’t answer to you.
It was for your own good! What good was having a dragon if she never listened to you?
I was under the tower now, close to where it rose above the rest of the cliffs. My legs ached from climbing. My muscles were like jelly from the effort. Seriously, after the last weeks of constant ladders and stairs and climbing, I would have thought they would be used to it by now!
I gritted my teeth and moved forward when a blast of fire hit the rock in front of me, chipping it with the force of the blow and sending little shards shooting painfully across my exposed skin. I closed my eyes just in time. When I opened them again, the rock in front of me was scorched and black.
That was close!
The dust was settling, the storm waning. Not good. That dust storm was my only cover. I pulled the veil down from my mouth and ran.
Zyla is coming to help you.
No! Tell her to stay where she is!
There was no response, but as the dust cleared and I scrambled higher, the air above me grew clearer.
I was partway up the tower that held the upper cave. Good. I was closer than I thought. I’d been worried that I was on the wrong staircase, but there were a few different sets of steps leading up to the upper cave. I ran faster.
A roar, just over my head shook me, making me pause, and then a woosh of air was the only warning to duck. I ducked low as a dragon tail crashed into the rock above me.
My heart was pounding, my legs wobbling under me. I looked up, my arms over my head, trying to protect it.
Kyrowat was wrapped around a metal golem, his legs encasing it, his wings fighting against the pull of the machine. Hubric leaned forward in the saddle, face twisting in the intensity of the moment.
And then they were gone, falling away from where I stood and back into the dust cloud below.
Other golems circled the tower. Had the conflict drawn their eyes to me?
I had to hurry.
The last steps to the top seemed to take the longest, my legs screamed for relief, my muscles ached. If the dust was clearing up here, it wouldn’t be long before it cleared below and then the people hiding in the caves would be vulnerable – Zin would be vulnerable.
Fear filled me. I channeled it into my movements. Come on!
The cave mouth loomed, shadowed and wide. I dove into it at the same moment that the squeal of metal tore through my ears. A golem must have slid across the rocks behind me. They were relentless as only a man-made thing could be – unflagging in energy and intent.
I scrambled to my feet in the cave and my jaw fell open.
Shabren stood in front of the wheel, his mouth turning up in a triumphant smile. In one hand, he was gripping Zyla’s neck. In the other, one of those fire rods.
Chapter Ten
I FROZE. IF I DREW a weapon, he could fire that rod. My mind was racing, but nothing helpful came to me.
“I see you took my fashion advice,” I said, ignoring my racing heart. Shabren was dressed in black leather from head to toe, only a bright purple dust veil decorating the tight-fitting leather. It showed me how big he really was – at least six inches taller than I was and twice as thick. “Must be hot in this climate, though.”
“That was your fashion advice? Don’t bother giving me any,” my mimic said.
“There are two of you!” Shabren’s eyes lit up and I felt my heart plummet. He could see the mimic? No one could see the mimic! “You have a shadow-self. Wonderful! I’ve never seen one of these in person.”
He seemed to relax his hold on Zyla as he spoke, completely distracted by the mimic. He took a step toward him and away from the wheel. I frowned at her, begging her to slip away but she shook her head. The grip wasn’t loose enough to slip away.
“You can have him,” I offered, inching in a circle toward the wheel. “Just give me the girl in exchange.”
“Hey!” The mimic looked ready to fight.
Shabren laughed, circling in the opposite direction and keeping the distance between us. “You have no idea what you are offering. Of course, I would take him ... if I could. I still might, if I can find a way to do it. But don’t come any closer or the girl will suffer.”
The doorway scar on my hand felt cool at his words. He spoke the truth.
He seemed completely charmed despite his threats, his eyes glued to the mimic, a small smile playing around his lips.
“How did you get here?” I asked grimly, still inching toward the wheel.
“The golems have a long range. They may be less maneuverable than a dragon, but they can fly all day,” he said, his eyes still enchanted by my mimic. I edged toward the mechanism behind him. The stone wheel looked exactly as Bataar and Berun had described. I needed to turn it to seal their caves and make them safe. I was running out of time.
“The saddle sores must be incredible,” I said, taunting Shabren. “Even with you all dressed in leather, Shabby. Or are you made of metal, too?”
Shabren’s eyes narrowed. “If you think your mockery makes you immune to my magic, you are wrong, boy. I’ve only held back because I am wondering if I can keep that shadow alive with you dead. An army of shadows – now that would be a thing worth testing. How did you come by the shadow?”
My mimic rolled his eyes. “As if it’s not bad enough mirroring you, Tor. Now, this hulking ape wants me to join his army. Tell him I don’t take orders.”
“He’s a gift,” I said. “Or maybe a curse. It’s hard to say most of the time.”
Shabren ignored me, his eyes locked on the mimic and I took the last step to the wheel, grabbing it in both hands. There were spokes all along it for turning it and a locking mechanism. I just needed to open that mechanism and nudge it.
“Freeze,” Shabren said.
I tore my gaze from the wheel to where he stood, the fire rod pressed against Zyla’s temple.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Did he know what I was trying to do, or was he just trying to thwart me without knowing why?
“How do you imagine this ending?” I asked, raising a single eyebrow. Maybe if I got him talking it would distract him again.
He smirked. “Like you’re in charge of this scenario. Ha! You’d be amusing if you weren’t so annoying, boy. Not that I don’t have something to thank you for.”
“You can thank me for anything you like.”
“Well then, thanks. I don’t like Apeq A’kona much, though he’s a necessary tool in this ... enterprise. But tools can start thinking they’re the ones in charge. And Apeq was getting a big head. Whatever you did to him behind that door has dulled his edge. He can’t exactly treat me like his cur when he has me to thank for healing him, can he?”
Apeq was alive? I tried to keep from swallowing. I didn’t want Shabren to know how nervous that made me. When they’d pulled me from the flames, I’d left him behind. I thought for sure that he would die there.
“Healing him?”
“Eight days ago, he rocketed back out of the doorway, on fire. His skin was nothing but burned char. He smelled like a nice smoked pig dinner. Do you know what it takes to heal a man so close to death?” Shabren’s eyes narrowed. “What it takes out of him?”
We’re beating them back! Saboraak sounded triumphant and my heart soared. We’ve carved a way to the cave mouth where the Kav’ai are fighting!
They were fighting? That was not good! I needed to close that doorway and I needed to keep Shabren distracted.
“A black leather suit and a ridiculous purple scarf?” I asked. I didn’t believe him. I returned to the world five days ago and I left him there. He couldn’t have returne
d eight days ago. That was three days before me.
“Time works differently there. Who knows how long it’s been since you entered that doorway,” the mimic said.
I had only been in there a few hours. Apeq had been lying when he said it was days before he followed me.
“A month,” Shabren said and the scar on my hand grew icy cold. “You were in there a month.”
“No,” I gasped.
“A month for us to rally the army. A month to move our golem army south. And even this little detour won’t interrupt all of that.”
We can’t hold them for long, but we’re countering the golem attacks. I’ve never flown so hard in my life!
Hang in there, Saboraak!
The tower rocked suddenly, and I looked out the entrance of the cave to see a golem spinning through the air. It had ricocheted off the tower and was careening through the air in a spiral – riderless. A moment later, Kyrowat passed the entrance in a flurry of wings and then was gone. I swallowed. Saboraak?
We can’t keep this up for long. Can you close the door?
Are the people all inside?
Hold on. I just need to shake this one from my tail.
There were wide windows carved on all sides of the cave-room. Windows big enough for a dragon. Maybe she could join us here.
A squealing sound arrested my thoughts and then Shabren grinned. “Stay back.”
He pulled Zyla backward against the wall and then there was a louder squeal of metal on rock. One of the golems burst through one of the large windows. I dove out of the way just in time, knocking my forehead against the rock. The golem filled the room in a moment, it’s metal body gleaming in the sun.
Saboraak? Are they inside?
In the confusion, I seized my chance, grabbed the wheel in both hands and released the mechanism. I was waiting for her response, my heart pounding at the wait and my hands twitching. They wanted to spin the wheel as badly as I did.
One more ...
A woman dressed just like Shabren leapt off the golem. Her hair streamed behind her. Gilded gauntlets encased her hands and a sleek helmet with bird wings jutting out from it graced her head. It had been designed with a windshield over the mouth and nose that disguised her features entirely.
Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 5-8 (Dragon Chameleon Omnibuses Book 2) Page 18