by Stephen Deas
Kemir glared at her. “Tail is still the best.” He started to cut off strips of meat, trying to hold his nose at the same time.
Take as much as you wish. After this, you will have to hunt for yourself. You cannot stay with us. For a time, at least, we must be apart.
“What?” He stopped, frozen still. “Why? Where are you going?” The thought of being left alone out here scared him. Which was insane. He pinched himself. Nadira. Remember Nadira.
You must leave us here. We must be alone. Already my new brothers are beginning to dream, Kemir. I have shown you those dreams. You have seen what they are and you have tasted how they feel to us. You should not be here when the awakening begins. Remember Ash.
“Ash was deranged.”
Ash was angry. All of us are angry. When I awoke, I was angry. And you do not want to be near when we are angry. I cannot promise they will not eat you. I cannot promise that I could stop them.
Kemir snorted. “Just tell them how useful I am.”
When the awakening has finished, I will reason with them. As I reasoned with Ash. Ash did not eat you, Kemir. Despite his anger.
“Well then, fine. I’ll just piss off into the middle of nowhere. On my own. Leave you to it. Have fun and just see how far you get without me. Am I supposed to take your pet dragon-rider with me and look after her for you?” He looked at Snow long and hard. She was still changing. Still remembering. Still learning who she was. There hadn’t been much time to notice since . . . since Nadira. Not until they’d reached the sea. But she was. She wasn’t the same Snow who’d burned the alchemists’ redoubt, not the same dragon who’d eaten Nadira or destroyed a city whose name she didn’t even know. Maybe she really didn’t need him anymore. He wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. “There’s one thing I want to know before I go. What’s your name, dragon?”
Snow, Kemir. It is Snow. Why do you ask when you know this?
“Not that name. Your real name. The name you were given when you were born for the very first time.”
For a moment he could almost believe Snow was smiling. My hatching name. The name my silver rider gave me. The first name I ever had. Is that what you want?
“Yes. Your first name or your real name or whatever it is. Not Snow. Not the one the Outwatch alchemists gave you. Unless it’s some secret and you’re going to have to eat me if you tell me.”
It is no secret. I was called Alimar Ishtan vei Atheriel—Beloved Memory of a Lover Distant and Lost.”
Kemir stared at her and tried not to laugh. “Beloved. That’s . . . That’s not a name I would have ever guessed. Alimar is better. Alim, maybe. Ali.”
You may know my true name, but you have not earned the right to speak it. Take whatever meat you wish. And then you must go.
Kemir threw a glance down the beach at the dragon-rider, still lying in the sand. “Fine with me. So what about her?”
Snow moved over to the prone figure on the sand. She nudged the rider with her nose. Kemir felt her disgust. This one is broken. Gingerly she picked the rider up by one leg and shook, then dropped her again. This one will be gone before my kin awake. She will stay. I will take what I can while she lingers.
For a moment, Kemir hesitated. Maybe he should have killed the dragon-rider after all. Maybe it would have been a mercy. Then he turned. “All yours then. Farewell, dragon.” He didn’t look back.
When it is safe, I will find you.
“Only if I want you to, dragon. Only if I want you to.” With that he stalked away into the foreign trees of a forest whose name he’d never hear. Alone. Snow had company now. Her own kind. They didn’t need him anymore.
“Forget them,” he snapped to himself, as if that would be enough. “They don’t need you and you don’t need them.” Although, all things considered, it would have been nice to have been abandoned somewhere that he knew. Or even somewhere that had people.
Still, alive was alive. Alive was something other than dead. And Snow hadn’t eaten him after all. He walked as far away from the dragons as he could be bothered to and built himself a shelter. He could never walk far enough, of course, not when they had wings. Over the next days he saw them sometimes, flying in the distance. He tried to ignore them, but as the days stretched to weeks he couldn’t. Food was plentiful, the hunting easy. He started to grow fat with waiting. He gave up his first shelter and took to roaming the island, exploring as much as anything for something to do. Sometimes even that wasn’t enough. Sometimes he stared at the skies for hours and hours, just hoping to catch a glimpse of wings and fire.
He’d been there for three weeks when he saw the ships. He was on the far side, as far away from the dragons as he could get, and all of a sudden he woke up in the morning and found the sea full of ships. They were far away, too far for him to signal, so he watched and wondered who they were. The dragons must have seen the ships too. He saw them later that morning, flying out across the sea. The sight made him glad that he was on land. Dragons and ships didn’t mix. Even he knew that. He didn’t see what happened and didn’t much care.
The next morning, though, they were waiting for him when he woke up. All four of them. He should have known better than to think he could hide. He found himself looking for the dragon-rider, but she wasn’t there.
This one? The other three dragons looked different now. Full-grown war-dragons, they dwarfed even Snow, and they were awake too. He could see it in them.
This one is useful to us. Snow turned her attention to Kemir. We are four now. We are strong. We will return to free our kind, and you will help us.
“And how can I possibly help a dragon?”
Snow dropped something at his feet. A pack. The dragon-rider’s pack. Ripped pages and maps spilled out. The realms. No one had ever bothered teaching him to read or write, but he knew a map when he saw one. With the desert up in the north, the moors to the east, the Worldspine to the west . . .
They are . . . they are too small. And too fragile. You will hold them and you will look at them and we will see through your eyes. He was suddenly aware of Snow, fiercely attentive to his thoughts. At the same time he saw the little crosses marked on the Worldspine in a separate hand, and realized what they were. A map of the Mountain King’s eyries.
It shows where dragons can be found, does it not?
Kemir didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His thoughts had already given him away. He could feel Snow in his head, glittering with greed. A map of the Mountain King’s eyries. Yes. He could almost see them burn, one by one.
He didn’t bother asking what had happened to the rider they’d carried across the sea with them. “I could stay here and you could struggle away on your own.” But even as he said it, Kemir knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t live on his own, not in this wilderness. Not forever. He’d go mad. And besides . . . Valmeyan . . .
You will help us, Kemir.
“And if I don’t?” Why am I even asking? I can finally do what Sollos and I once swore to do. I can make the King of the Crags pay. I can make him burn. The feeling was delicious and hot.
The dragon didn’t answer, just licked her lips. We shall leave now. We are ready. Her thoughts were excited, but there was something else. Something out of place. Uneasy. She was almost . . .
“Are you scared, dragon?”
We have seen ships on the sea. There was a presence among them. A presence we have not felt for a long time. Not since the world was broken into pieces.
“Any chance of having that again, except this time so it makes some sort of sense?”
One of our creators has returned. We do not know what this means. We thought they were gone.
Kemir shrugged. “But then you’ve been asleep for the last few hundred years.”
One of the dragons lunged. Kemir flinched, closed his eyes, but the blow never came. When he opened his eyes again, there were teeth inches from his face. Teeth as long as his arm. The dragon’s breath was hot on his skin, and rank. He felt the anger from all of them, even
from Snow.
Have a care, Kemir.
He didn’t say anything else. Just quietly gathered up what little he had and loaded it onto Snow’s back. He made sure he had plenty of food and water this time—might as well head to his death in comfort. For now at least, the dragons didn’t seem to be hungry. Presumably they’d been hunting whales again.
“Where are we going?”
We will cross the water to the place where the Worldspine crashes into the sea. We will return to the mountains where I awoke, and there it will begin. It is marked on these maps the places we will go. You will be our eyes. When we are done with those and our numbers are too great to be stopped, we will find your alchemists again. We will find your eyries and your castles and your palaces, and this time we will burn them all. Starting with the place where I was hatched.
They looked at each other.
Outwatch!
37
MOTHS AND FLAMES
So are you a man or half a man now?” Zafir sat across from Jehal in the solar atop the Tower of Dusk. Jehal had chosen the room deliberately. He wasn’t sure what he’d been trying to prove. That I can climb stairs on my own now? Was that it? Is that what I’m reduced to? And what has it got me? The whole left side of his body was throbbing, and his wound felt as though it was on fire. He could barely sit still. The sad truth was that his leg was never going to get better. Without a staff to lean on he could barely walk, and that would never change.
Still, it could be worse. I can still ride dragons. And other things.
Zafir didn’t wait for an answer. She twirled her hair and made big eyes at him. “Vale Tassan says that Shezira meant to unman you, but Jeiros tells me that she may have merely crippled you. He goes very coy when I ask and claims that he doesn’t actually know. So. Did she miss, then? Do you still have what it takes?” Zafir had brought the Night Watchman with her. He stood in the background, removed from them. But not so far away that I could reach Zafir and wring her pretty little neck before he could cut mine, eh?
“Find out for yourself.” He tried stretching his crippled leg out in front of him in case that made the pain any easier. It didn’t.
“Lover, that doesn’t sound very promising. Shezira was quite a good shot with a crossbow.”
“Yes. Apparently so.” Jehal smiled. “And at such short range and at such a large target . . .”
Zafir smiled. “I suppose I must assume the worst of your injury. At least until we know better.” Jeiros. Jeiros of all people had smuggled a woman to him. From a city brothel. She was clean, at least, but Jehal had turned her away. Ah, the games we play . . .
Jehal shrugged. “I have exquisite taste when it comes to whom I bed. I suspect the Night Watchman has a somewhat better eye in these matters and I don’t doubt he has a great deal more practice than Jeiros. You should have sent him on your errand.”
“Not my errand.” Zafir smiled again and then went abruptly cold. “You betrayed me.”
“I told you what I thought, lover. You should have let Shezira go. My opinion on that hasn’t changed. You were wrong to do what you did. You’ve brought us to war.” With a painful sigh, Jehal stood up. “I’ll go back to my sickbed now, shall I? Or is it time for another cage? I saw that one of your cousins swings in the wind over the gates as well. What did he do? Did he look at you with lust in his eye? No, don’t answer; I know that he did. Is that what got him strung up?”
“He lost twenty-five of my dragons to Almiri.”
“Then perhaps you should have taken him to your bed after all. Perhaps then he wouldn’t have been so eager.” Jehal chuckled and shook his head and turned away.
“Wait!”
Jehal ignored her. He yawned and hobbled off.
“Wait!” This time she shouted, angry.
“Why should I?”
“I am speaker!”
“And I am a king. I’ll listen to your guidance if you should ever grow wise, but you do not give me orders. That is not your place. Even as speaker.”
“Wait.” Her voice softened. “Please. I didn’t want this.”
“Better.” Jehal turned back and sat down again. And about time too. I don’t think I could have survived all those steps again so soon. Recriminations weren’t what I came for.
Zafir was wearing her earnest face now. She leaned toward him, wide-eyed. “I didn’t ask for you to be hurt. I just wanted . . .”
“Come here.” Jehal patted the cushion next to him. “Sit beside me.” Is she lying? Does it matter? Does she even know the difference?
Zafir glanced at Vale. He came a few steps closer and then gave a little nod. So that’s how close you think you need to be to kill me before I can move. Six paces. Interesting. I shall remember that. Zafir came and sat beside him then, close enough that he could feel the heat from her skin. Somewhat to his annoyance, even that alone was enough to arouse him. See, this is what comes of being stuck in bed for so long. Maybe I should have had Jeiros’ whore after all. The sensation was more painful than pleasant thanks to his wound. He focused his mind on that, reached out and stroked her cheek.
“I know. You just wanted me out of the way for a day while the vote was cast and the deed was done. That’s all. None of this was supposed to happen.”
“Yes,” she breathed. Liar!
“What happened to me wasn’t your doing. I know that.”
“No.” Or might it even be true? Does it matter?
“No.” Jehal smiled and leaned closer so that his lips were brushing against her ear. “I know that because I know you’d never have given Shezira the satisfaction of a revenge like that. You’d have done it yourself.” He put a hand on her thigh. Zafir was sitting very still, but she was breathing quickly. Jehal felt the Night Watchman take another couple of steps toward them. “I will have my pound of flesh for this, but I’ll not come looking for it from you. Vale Tassan did this to me and so now I want him as my toy to use as I please.” Ah, the pleasure. Are you hearing this, Night Watchman? Are you hearing every whispered word? You’re close enough, and I know your ears are good.
“There is a war, Jehal,” she whispered. “I need him.”
“Not as much as you need me.” He moved his hand higher. “I promise not to break him until you’re finished with Shezira’s daughters. For now I just want to play with him.”
Her throat bobbed. The slightest of nods. Enough for now.
“I never wanted to be your enemy, Zafir. I only wanted what was best for you. Wars are dangerous. I’m afraid for you. I’m afraid you might die, you see, because that’s what happens in dragon-wars. People die. Lots of them. Sometimes even people who matter. But I want you to know that when Shezira shot me and I was sure that my time was done, the first person I thought of was you. And in my bed, as I made my slow recovery, I thought of you a great deal more. More than anyone else.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
Zafir took a deep breath and sighed. “Thank you, Jehal.”
“Do you believe me?”
She took his hand and clasped it between her own. “Of course I do.”
Well, then you’re either an idiot or you’re lying, and for once I can’t actually tell which it is. “I have a gift for you.”
“I don’t need a gift, Jehal. Just stand beside me, like you did when I was made the speaker. That’s more than any gift could be.”
Very good. I really actually want to believe you. Very good indeed. “I’ve got one for you anyway. Call it payment for what I’m going to do to the commander of your guard once you don’t need him anymore.” Are you still here, Night Watchman? Are you still listening?
“You don’t need to tell me. I saw the letter, my lover.”
“Letter?” For a moment he was confused.
“The one you were writing before the council. To your uncle.” She looked at him as though he was mad. “The one you wrote, Jehal. The one where you told him to murder your wife for you.”
“Ah. That letter.” That
letter. “I never had a chance to send it.”
“You’re such a fool, Jehal. If I’d known you were truly mine then none of this would have happened. If I’d known before the council . . .” She tossed her hair. “If I’d known before the council then I would have let Shezira go just because you asked me to.”
“No council? No executions? No war?” For a moment, Jehal almost believed her. Yes. And now remember who you’re talking to. It’s easy to say these things when nothing can be undone and none of us can turn back. Besides, I never even sealed it. Perhaps I never will.
Zafir rested her fingers on his leg by his wound. “Does it hurt terribly?”
“It aches a little. It gets worse when I’m aroused. You’re not helping.”
“If I’d known you were mine, none of this would have happened. You’d be whole.”
“I’m still quite whole enough, thank you.”
“So you say, but is it true?”
“You can see my lips and my hands for yourself. You know they’re the best of me. The rest, well, if you want to know about that then there’s only one way you’re going to find out.” He raised an eyebrow archly. “I’m saving myself.”
She didn’t take her hand away. Instead, she gave a little smirk. For an instant Jehal remembered what had drawn them together in the beginning, what an irresistible force it had been.
“I’m going to give you the Red Riders,” he said, as she began to unlace his shirt.
“And I’m going to make you a king,” she breathed. “But first I’m going to make you a god.”
“I thought they were one and the same.”
“Oh no.” She ran her tongue over his ear. “Not at all.”
The Night Watchman had gone, slipped silently away to leave them to their pleasures. Which was a pity, Jehal thought. I could have shown you a thing or two about striving, and you could certainly have seen how your speaker likes to be served.
He undressed her with slow and deliberate strokes. There was an honesty to the way she moaned and moved to his fingers and his tongue brushing over her skin. At least I know you missed me. When I have you like this, I know I’m finally seeing the truth.