"Home," he said, voice streaming into the wind like the smoke from his nostrils.
The clouds obscured all but the mountaintops, and fear filled Mori. What would she find beneath that cloud cover? Smoldering forests? Nothing but ruin and skeletons? The city of Nova Vita still lay many leagues away. When she arrived, would the Moondisk bring hope for her people, or would her gift be given to the dead?
"Remember, Mori!" Bayrin called to her. "When we see the phoenixes, you point the Moondisk at them. I'll burn them with fire."
Mori nodded, clutching the bronze disk in her claws. Would it work? The disk seemed so small, no larger than a shield. How could it defeat the flame of Tiranor? The Children of the Moon had claimed its rays would extinguish phoenix fire, but what if they were wrong? What if that was only a legend? It had been thousands of years since the Sun God had attacked the northern isles; tales from so long ago also spoke of golems of clay, fairies that snatched the teeth of errant children, and other stories that could not possibly be true. Was this Moondisk just another myth?
"Bay, are you sure that—"
She had no time to voice her concern. Before she could complete her sentence, a ball of light flared on the horizon, like a sun rising from the clouds.
Bayrin cursed and bared his fangs.
"Stay near me, Mori," he said. "There's only one. It's time to test the Moondisk."
Fear pounded through Mori. Her limbs shook and flames danced inside her maw. She growled and showed her fangs, and smoke streamed from her nostrils. She glided upon an air current, diving toward the orange ball of light ahead.
Be strong, Mori, she told herself. Be brave. For Requiem. For Bayrin.
The ball of fire burst from the cloud cover, and Mori couldn't help it. She screamed.
The phoenix shot forward. It screeched, a sound like shattering mountains and typhoons. Its wings outstretched, a hundred feet in span, crackling with fire. Its body coiled, woven of liquid fire, and its eyes blazed like two suns.
It was him. She would know him anywhere. Acribus.
Every instinct inside her screamed to flee. Her heart thrashed. Her wings shook. She could barely breathe. Turn and fly, Mori! Fly away and hide!
"With me, Mori!" Bayrin shouted at her side, roaring fire. "Fly!"
Mori howled and blew flame. Heart thrashing, she shot toward the phoenix.
The Moondisk thrummed in her claws, vibrating. Soon it shook so wildly, she nearly dropped it. It felt so hot, hotter than coals, its heat shooting up her limbs. She clutched it tighter and screamed, driving forward along the wind.
The phoenix howled and its eyes met hers. Its beak, white hot shards of molten steel, opened to screech, revealing a maw of lava. It came surging toward her, wings flapping, raising fountains of light.
A ring of silver light exploded in her claws.
A shock wave shot out, the color of sky, its hum deafening. A beam of light coalesced and blazed forward, faster than arrows, wider than the pillars of Requiem, consuming Mori. She screamed with pain. She wanted to die. The light and sound vibrated through her, claiming her; she could see and hear nothing else. And yet she kept flying. She held the Moondisk. She raised it in her claws.
Wings flapping madly, she pointed the beam forward and heard the phoenix howl. The light washed it. Mori could see nothing but blue, but she growled, forced herself to narrow her eyes, to stare, to see her enemy.
Caught in the beam, Acribus howled. His wings flapped and his claws lashed. No more fire covered him. He flew as a great, naked bird, his flesh pale and wrinkled, his eyes black and beady. He looked to Mori like some plucked, starving vulture, a weak and wizened thing.
"Burn it, Bayrin!" she screamed, voice nearly lost under the deafening howl of the light. "Burn it dead!"
Through the silver beam, a dragon swooped. Bayrin's scales blazed under the light, a bright white tinged with silver. His claws outstretched. His maw opened. A stream of fire shot from his maw, spinning and crackling, and crashed against the naked phoenix.
Acribus howled. The fire engulfed him. His flew back, wings pounding the air. He clawed and burned.
Growling, Mori dived forward, the Moondisk clutched in her claws. She swooped. Rage filled her. Keeping the Moondisk's light upon him, she showered Acribus with fire.
Her flames cascaded against the naked bird. Acribus howled. His wrinkled skin burned, burst, and peeled off. Welts rose across his flesh, swollen like rotten fruit. His eyes melted. Soon he looked like a phoenix again, covered in burning flames—but this fire burned him.
He mewled, a high sound that chilled Mori, and she realized: This is the sound I made when he hurt me. She blasted him with fire again, tears in her eyes, a howl in her throat.
Her fire burst against him, and Acribus fell from the sky.
He tumbled, a burning bird, his skin crackling. Mori swooped above him, Moondisk in her claws, keeping the beam upon him. Wind and smoke stung her eyes. Acribus tumbled through clouds, a comet crashing toward the earth. Mori followed, screaming, holding him in the beam lest he became a phoenix again. Forests rushed up toward them. The earth spun. Mori screamed and dived.
The naked, burning bird crashed through the treetops and hit the ground.
His magic vanished. He shrank like a piece of meat crumbling under fire. Soon he lay upon the earth as a broken, charred man. Smoke rose from him.
Mori landed beside him and tossed the Moondisk aside. It thumped into dry leaves, its light dimmed, and its hum faded. Once more, it was nothing but a shield of bronze inlaid with gold. Mori turned her eyes toward Acribus, who lay at her feet.
He moaned and twitched, still alive. Burns covered him. His clothes stuck to his soft, red body, melted into his flesh. He gasped for breath and whimpered.
Mori shifted into a human, drew her sword, and held it above him.
She wanted to slay him, but her hand shook, and tears filled her eyes. She could only stand above this ruin of a man, this living piece of burnt meat. In the old books she read, stories of epic adventure, dragons always slew their enemies with fire and glory. But the books never told of this. They never told of flesh melting over bones and the stink of it.
This is what Orin looked like, she remembered. It's how he looked when you raped me by his body.
With the flap of wings, Bayrin landed beside her in smoke and fire. He shifted into a human too, came to stand beside her, and blanched. Shock and disgust suffused his face, and he gritted his teeth. When he drew his sword, his hand shook.
"Stars, Mori," he whispered. "Look away. I'll finish this."
He tried to turn her aside, but she would not move.
"No," she whispered. "I… I want to see him die. I have to."
She looked up at Bayrin. Ash and dirt covered his face. Blood still stained his clothes from the lamprey wounds. His red hair was now black with soot. Mori wanted to tell him, needed to tell him, to tell somebody the secret that burned inside her.
"Bayrin, he…" Tears caught in her throat, and her body trembled, but she had to do this, she had to speak now before her courage left her. "Bayrin, at Castellum Luna, after they killed Orin, he… Acribus, he grabbed me and…"
Bayrin winced. "Mori, it's all right. You don't have to speak of it. I think I know what happened. You don't have to tell me… if you don't want to."
A sob fled her lips, but she tightened her jaw and clutched her sword. Stay strong.
"I have to tell you," she said, "I have to, I have to speak to somebody. He raped me, Bayrin. He raped me by the body of my brother, and… I didn't even fight him. I let him do it. I'm sorry." Tears filled her eyes.
Bayrin shook his head, eyes damp and narrowed. "For what, Mori? Sorry for what?" He blew out a shaky breath. "Stars, Mori, it wasn't your fault. You didn't let him do anything."
Mori closed her eyes, sword wavering in her hand. She still felt so dirty, so ashamed, so impure. But a sliver of relief filled her, a dim ray of hope. She had told Bayrin, and he hadn't recoiled in disgust.
He still stood at her side. For an instant fear swelled inside her, and she was terrified that he would try to embrace or kiss her, and she knew she would flinch at his touch, that the memories would flow through her. But he only stood at her side, sword in hand, and she loved him for it. It was all she wanted from him right now.
"Bayrin," she whispered and opened her eyes. "Can you… can you do it?"
He nodded, face pale, eyes haunted but determined.
Mori turned away and walked several feet, facing the trees. She clutched her sword so tight her fingers hurt. She closed her eyes. When she heard the cry behind her, a mewl like a kicked dog, she winced and a tear ran down her cheek.
She heard Acribus moan no more. It was over.
"He's gone," she whispered, trembling. "He's gone forever."
The sun began to set. They had flown for two days and a night, not resting, and Nova Vita still lay many leagues away.
That night they slept upon a bed of dry leaves, naked birches rising around them. Under their cloaks, Mori shifted until she lay against Bayrin, warm in his arms. She slept with her head against his chest, his hand stroking her hair, and for the first time in many nights, she did not dream.
ELETHOR
The Starlit Demon rose before him from the shadow.
A beast of stone, it rose two hundred feet tall, nearly as tall as the cavern that held it. Fissures ran across its bulky form, leaking starlight. Its teeth were white boulders, its eyes swirling pools of starlight. Its body shook and clanked as it grumbled, a sound that shook the chamber.
Elethor and Lyana stood upon the pillar of stone, still in human forms. Holding hands, they gazed upon the rising beast.
"Demon of Starlight!" Elethor cried. "I am Elethor, Son of Olasar, King of Requiem! I come to free you from your lair and call upon your help."
The Starlit Demon's head thrust forward, as large as Elethor's house in Nova Vita. Its mouth cracked open, a canyon in rock, and it rumbled with a voice like cascading boulders. The chamber shook with it.
"I serve no king… return to your sunlight… and let me sleep."
The behemoth of stone began descending into the shadows again, a mountain sinking into night. Its eyes began to close, leaving but glowing slits like crescent moons. A ridge of boulders rose down its back like a spine, creaking and shifting.
Elethor tightened his jaw. After all this—walking through the Abyss itself—would this creature refuse to help them? Floaters of light filled his eyes. His breath shook in his lungs. Lyana's hand tightened around his, squeezing it like a drowning woman.
"You will not sleep!" Elethor called to the demon. "Wake, Starlit Demon, and serve those you are bound to! You served my forefathers. You are still sworn to my house. Rise and serve Requiem, the kingdom your stars shine upon."
The demon raised its great head again. Dust and pebbles rained from its body. Its eyes opened again, blazing so bright Elethor snarled and looked aside, his own eyes narrowing.
"Sworn to your house!" the demon bellowed, voice echoing across the cavern, its waves thudding against Elethor's chest. "Your fathers imprisoned me here. Your fathers stripped me of fire to feast on." A growl left its maw, so powerful Elethor swayed and nearly fell. "Leave this place, lest I feed upon your flesh instead."
Clutching Elethor's hand, Lyana raised her chin and shouted to the beast.
"If it's fire you crave, we will feed you fire!" Her cheeks flushed and her eyes blazed. "Are you hungry, Starlit Demon? For years you slumbered here, and your light is dim. Will fire fill your belly?"
The Starlit Demon turned its head so quickly, its tail of stone lashed and hit a wall. A crack ran along the chamber, showering stones. The beast roared, baring its teeth. Its gullet blazed like swirling, molten stars.
"I have craved fire for longer than your mind can grasp," it said. "For two thousand turns of your seasons, I slumbered here, craving heat and flame to devour. The hunger in my belly is a forge you cannot fill."
Elethor and Lyana looked at one another and nodded. They shifted as one, flapped their wings, and rose as dragons. The Starlit Demon roared before them, maw open so wide, Elethor knew it could swallow even his dragon form.
"Here is a taste of the fire you crave!" Elethor shouted and blew his flames.
The stream of fire roared toward the Starlit Demon, and for an instant, fear filled Elethor. What if his fire burned the beast? What if it attacked them? But the Starlit Demon opened its maw wider, swallowing the flames. Lyana blew fire too, and the demon feasted.
The dragons let their flames die. The Starlit Demon roared.
"Is that all the fire you can kindle?" It made a deep sound like laughter, body shaking. "All the dragons of Requiem would not fill my belly. Ten thousand blew their fire upon me, but I knew no fill."
"If you follow us, we will grant you more fire!" Elethor shouted.
The demon's laughter deepened, cruel laughter that made the chamber shake. The pillar of stone upon which Elethor and Lyana had stood crumbled and fell. Cracks raced across the Starlit Demon's stone body, emitting beams of light.
"The armies of your fathers blew flames from their mouths into mine, but my craving was stronger." The Starlit Demon glared at Elethor, drenching him with light. "And so I toppled their halls, and feasted upon their children. Your kings were not pleased. How will you feed me when your fathers could not?"
Elethor hovered before the beast, his wings blowing rocks and dust off its body.
"I will not feed you dragonfire. I will feed you sunfire itself. Ten thousand phoenixes fly over Requiem, and each is woven from the Sun God's flame. Emerge from your lair, Starlit Demon! Follow me to Requiem, and you will feast."
The Starlit Demon rose, filling the chamber with its girth. Its claws emerged from the darkness below, raining earth; each seemed carved of flint, larger than a horse. It tossed back its head and roared, and the sound crashed against the chamber walls, cracking them. Lyana screamed in pain; the demon's howl knocked her back in the air. Elethor grimaced. He felt like that roar could crush his scales and snap his ribs.
"Will you follow, Starlit Demon?" he cried. "Will you fly to Requiem and feast upon the phoenix fire?"
The demon leaped.
The chamber seemed to explode.
A fountain of stone and light, the Starlit Demon crashed into the ceiling, claws digging, maw biting. Boulders cascaded. Dust filled the air, blinding Elethor. He flew backward until his back hit a wall. He saw nothing but raining rock, clouds of dust, and beams of starlight.
"Lyana!" he shouted.
He could not see nor hear her. A boulder fell before him, grazing his tail. Elethor flattened himself against the wall. Rocks pummeled him. He tried to call for Lyana again, but dust and rocks filled his mouth.
The starlight dimmed, and Elethor managed to blow fire, lighting the darkness. Through the storm of debris, he discerned the Starlit Demon burrowing into a hole in the ceiling, tail lashing. Soon the beast disappeared into the tunnel it dug, driving upward like a great earthworm.
"Elethor!" came a cry from across the chamber, and Lyana flew toward him. Dust coated her blue scales, turning her gray. With three great flaps of her wings, she soared toward the hole in the ceiling. "Come on, Elethor, we follow!"
With that, she soared into the hole above, following the Starlit Demon. Heart hammering, Elethor pushed himself off the wall. Dust and rocks rained against his wings as he flapped them, but he gritted his teeth, narrowed his eyes, and forced himself to fly. The tunnel gaped above him, fifty feet wide. He saw Lyana's tail swish above and he followed.
Tunnel walls blurred at his sides. The light of the Starlit Demon fell in rays. Dirt and rocks cascaded, clanking against his scales.
He flew for what seemed like leagues. The Starlit Demon burrowed and roared, crashing through the stone and dirt. Elethor growled, slipstreaming in the beast's wake. If he swerved to the right or left, boulders would tumble against him, denting scales. Lyana flew above him, drafting behind the d
emon's tail. The behemoth dwarfed the two dragons, ten times their size.
The demon cut through the Abyss. The tunnel drove through craggy chambers, revealing the horrors of the underworld: nests of squirming eggs, rotten children coiled inside them; bloated worms, six feet long and bearing human faces; bodies that rotted, squirming with insects, yet still screamed in pain. But soon the tunnel grew colder, and Elethor saw bones, rocks, soil, and the buried ruins of old cities.
We are leaving the Abyss, he thought. We are leaving this unholy underworld and entering the crust of the world.
He exhaled a shaky breath of relief, and his eyes stung. How long would nightmares of this place haunt him? At once he knew the answer: for the rest of his life. He would not forget the sight of Nedath, a dead girl atop the body of a centipede. In the dark he would always see Lyana wrapped in cobwebs, turning into a shriveled creature. Every night, he knew that he would dream of the bodies upon the hooks, undying beasts that fed upon their own flesh.
He looked at Lyana, who flew above him, and his heart seemed so small, so cold, wrapped in ice.
Nobody else will ever know, he thought. Only Lyana and I. We'll never be able to speak of what we saw… not to anyone above ground, maybe not even to each other. He could barely see; his eyes blurred with tears. But we still have each other. Lyana is saved… and I will always be with her, to hold her in the darkness when our nightmares swell.
The thought of Lyana made his chest feel a little warmer. She kept the terror at bay. Elethor nodded as he flew, eyes damp. We will live in peace again, together—we will save our people, we will stargaze on Lacrimosa Hill, and we will leave this darkness behind us. She and I.
All his life, Lyana had been a thorn in his side, the sanctimonious girl who'd endlessly scold and lecture him. But today as he flew, he saw above him a strong, wise woman… a woman he wanted to spend his life with. A woman, he knew, that he could learn to love.
The Starlit Demon burrowed for what seemed like hours, roaring in the dark, until it crashed through a slab of stone, and screams rose above.
A Dawn of Dragonfire (Dragonlore, Book 1) Page 25