It was just then that Simon saw there was a skylight dome above him.
And this gave him an idea.
The mansion was burning to nothing. The fires had torched the walls and were reaching the ceiling rapidly. The entire structure was ready to collapse.
Simon reracked his crossbow.
“What are you doing?” Aldric asked nervously. “Simon?”
Simon was concentrating too hard to answer. He lifted his bow, and shot—directly into the thin glass supporting beam of the skylight. With a tinkling crash, the pretty glasswork shattered as the ceiling broke apart.
A thick, heavy collection of snow from the roof tumbled in upon them.
The firelings screeched in surprise. Some yelped and scurried from the unexpected snowfall. For the others, it was just enough of a shock to distract them from their prey.
Aldric plunged his sword into a blue fireling. The firespawn howled, as the flames of Aldric’s sword swept toward his heart. GREEN FLAME! GREEN FLAME! he screamed in Alaythia’s ears.
The green Dragonflames covered the fireling in an instant. Aldric slashed at another creature, breaking him in two. Its body turned into separate patches of fire, hitting the floor and evaporating into nothing.
The other firelings were in disarray, aghast at the human’s power.
He controls the living fire! Alaythia heard them scream. But right in front of Simon’s eyes, the green flames grew into firelings as well, voracious and ready to eat the others. Aldric had quickly lost control of his own fire.
No war, no war, twittered the redlings.
Whipped into pandemonium, the firelings flew up out of the pit, scrambling to escape each other, leaving behind a trail of flame. Crying for freedom, they scattered to the winds.
But the wooden pit remained a cauldron of flames, and increasingly, of deadly smoke. Now the entire mansion was coming down on top of them as well.
“What did you do that for?” yelled Aldric, throwing off his coat to stamp out the flames.
“What was I supposed to do?” shouted Simon helplessly. He thought he’d saved them.
“You’ve brought down the entire building, you’ve given oxygen to the fire!”
“He was only trying to help,” Alaythia said.
“He would help if he would listen. Take up your shields.”
“Why?”
Aldric picked her shield up and shoved it into her hands. “Because we’re getting out of here. Gather your weapons. Simon, open your coat—show me your armor.”
Confused, Simon did so.
“Alaythia,” ordered Aldric. “Hands on his shoulders.”
Not understanding, Alaythia blinked at him, unmoving.
“The armor,” Aldric explained, “you may have the power now to use it as it’s intended.” He pointed to some runes at the top of Simon’s shoulder. “Read that.”
“Well, what is it intended for?” asked Simon.
And suddenly the answer was clear. As Alaythia read the runes aloud, tapping them, Simon shot up into the air, his body weightless. He was flying.
“Oh my gaww…,” he stammered. He began spinning in air, violently.
“You’re fanning the flames,” yelled Aldric. “Lean back so that it lifts you!”
Simon tried with no success, flipping completely over.
He stayed in the exact same place, only upside down, facing the flames.
With fire spreading everywhere, Alaythia read the runes on Aldric’s armor, and the Knight rose into the air, expertly gliding up to take Simon’s hand. He pulled him upright, guiding him straight out through the roof.
Below, Simon saw as Alaythia struggled a little with her shield, rising slowly from the burning mansion like a ghost, her cloak and dress trailing her.
As they rose out of the blazing mansion, Simon could see no sign of the dragons. He saw only a stray fireling still playing in the flames, rolling around in them, laughing, and throwing fire all about. It turned to them and, snickering, threw a long trail of flame toward them.
Reaching them through the smoke and darkness, Alaythia grabbed hold of Simon and Aldric and pulled them out into the cool, snowy weather of the city.
Escaping, Simon saw the darkness of smoke part out of the way; they rose above it; he let go of Alaythia’s hand, floating in the air above the world for a long moment.
He had never been up so high. They were far higher than the Lighthouse beacon. He felt himself grow light-headed. He could see the lights of Moscow twinkling in the gloomy, blue-gray daylight.
They flew across the mansion compound, high and graceful, in an aimless path.
Aldric pulled down on Simon’s arm, lowering them gently to the street.
Alaythia swooped in beside them, tossing up snow.
Simon fell over on top of his shield.
He still felt giddy and joyful from his flight; it was like waking slowly from a dream.
“Fire…,” Alaythia said in a daze, staring as the light in the mansion flared stronger. The snowfall was trying to beat it back, but the fire was merciless.
“I used to love fire,” said Simon thoughtlessly.
Aldric turned to him with absolute disgust in his eyes. “What.”
“I didn’t know…,” Simon said, unable to find the right words.
“Fire is a killer,” rumbled Aldric. “It is ruthless. Murderous. Never say that again. Ever.”
The flames flicked out of the mansion and reached in long, thin lines out across the streets to other buildings.
Serpentfire loves to grow.
Simon and Aldric watched in horror as the fire spread to the houses nearby, the flames reaching out like the tentacles of an octopus.
Then Simon felt many eyes at his back.
He spun around.
They were now joined by swarms of cats creeping toward them on the snow. They knew who had burned their home. Staring down, Simon saw the felines arch their backs angrily, claws out, fur on end. Tiny jets of fire burst from their jaws. Aldric and Simon backed away, pulling Alaythia, who could hardly move.
They ran, and Simon looked back to see the cats unable to follow, cut off by the fire they had shot into the alley. But ahead of him, a red fireling was just diving into the bricks of another building, spreading flames. The Dragons were nowhere to be seen—gone into hiding—but fires were now breaking out everywhere.
“Another city burned by Pyrothrax,” sighed Aldric.
Chapter Twenty-Five
ELEMENTS OF DESTRUCTION
LATER, THEIR FACES BLACKENED from soot, the three Dragonhunters drank hot tea in a burned-out restaurant they had tried to save. Only the building’s supporting steel beams were left standing. The walls were burned away. The restaurant owner had set up some tables inside, and was serving borscht soup and tea heated on an enormous cast-iron stove.
Simon, Aldric, and Alaythia sat solemnly, at a table half buried in ashes and snowfall.
The Russian tea warmed Simon down deep. No wonder Russians could endure their terrible weather. Their tea was magic.
They were still reeling from their discovery. What was once unthinkable was now an undeniable reality: The three Dragons were coming together in partnership.
Aldric tapped his hand on the table, pondering it, “forming an alliance…an alliance…” It spooked Simon. The Serpents were serving an unknown master. And the situation for the Dragonhunters was getting worse and worse.
“The storms were just because they were in the same place,” said Simon. “The Venice Dragon was going to each territory, right? Bringing the Serpents together, one by one…”
“But to do what? What are they joining up for?” wondered Alaythia.
The mystery animated their thoughts for a long moment.
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll find them,” she said. “We’ll have to follow the storms and supernatural activities—that’s where they’ll be.”
Aldric gave a heavy sigh.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said w
ith a weary tone. “I’m not sure where I can send you that would be safe, but I’m not entirely confident that working together is the best idea, given the state of things.”
His remarks weighted Simon down. The boy sat as still as a statue. But Alaythia was furious.
“What are you trying to say? After all we’ve done, you’d rather go it alone?” Simon could hear the hurt in her voice.
Aldric responded coldly. “Well, let’s list those accomplishments. Besides helping to burn a Moscow neighborhood into tiny bits of ash, you two have repeatedly blown our cover. You have refused to follow my lead, over and over again. You have lost the deathspells that were our only chance at killing the Serpents, making our entire journey so far a complete and utter waste.”
“We fought those things,” Alaythia said. “We fought them off, all of us together.”
“We did the best we could,” was all Simon could offer.
Aldric rubbed his eyes. “You’re too easy on yourself,” he murmured.
“I can see why you’d attack me,” said Alaythia, “but Simon’s just a kid. Leave him out of it. He’s never a burden, and he’s done an incredible job of keeping up with you. You’re always criticizing him.”
“Leave it to me to decide what’s a burden and what isn’t,” said Aldric, drinking his tea.
Simon was stung by the insult. Did Aldric think of him as nothing more than an iron weight?
Alaythia got up and crossed the room, where newspapers from around the world were left out by the café owner for weary firefighters. She idly picked one up and sat down at another table, away from Aldric.
She slapped open The New York Times, and Simon watched the ash flurry around her shoulders in the breeze. He felt closer to her than to Aldric right now.
Aldric looked up, with perhaps a touch of regret, then poured more brown tea into his cup. “I should’ve got vodka,” he said. “I wonder if they have any left.”
Very quietly, Simon said to his father, “You’re just going to let her sit there?”
“Drink your tea,” he told Simon, “and stay out of the affairs of grown people.”
You’re not acting like grown people, the boy thought.
Alaythia was turning the pages in The New York Times when her eyes snagged on something almost impossible to believe, a headline that read: “Gifted Art Curator Dies in Mysterious Fire. Brilliant Woman Will Be Missed.”
She sat back, stunned. It was some kind of mistake, surely. She fluttered the pages, checking the date. It was many days old.
They thought she was dead! Well, of course they thought she was dead. She’d left New York without a word to anyone, after the fire. She looked back at the article, which told of her genius for finding new talent.
And, in the midst of her haywire thoughts, she heard Aldric’s voice behind her, arguing with Simon. “She has to know what a mess she’s made of things,” he was saying. “It’s the only way you’ll ever help me to fight them again—you have to realize that I’m right, and trust me.”
Simon protested. “Who knows where we’d be now without her?”
“I know one thing,” Aldric said. “We’d have the deathspells now.”
Silence. Alaythia turned to him. “I went with you…because I had an obligation to protect you. The dream I had said I must protect you.”
Aldric looked at her with a tired gaze. “You’ve already fulfilled your dream. You pulled us out of the burning palace. Isn’t that what the dream said? ‘Lead them through the darkness.’ Well, you’ve done it. You’re all paid up.”
Alaythia stared back. Simon could see a change come over her eyes.
“All right. Fine. If that’s the way you feel, we’ll just part ways,” she said, holding up the newspaper. “As far as I know, I’ve never been burdensome in any relationship, so let’s not start here. I’m going back to the world I know. I’m going back where people respect me.” She tossed down the newspaper and headed for the exit.
But she stopped at the door and said, “You know, it wasn’t lost on me that out there on that icy sea, the first place you looked for betrayal…was at me.” Then she went out, pushing through ashes and snow.
Stunned, Simon let his eyes fall to the newspaper. He looked at Aldric. “She’s heading back to New York,” he said. “Aren’t you going to stop her?”
Aldric said nothing, and downed the last of his tea.
Simon couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t move; he was in a kind of suffocating grief.
In a blink, it was over.
Alaythia had left them.
Chapter Twenty-Six
TWO AGAINST THE WORLD
BY THE TIME SIMON fully appreciated what had happened and dashed after her, Alaythia was out of sight. She was simply not there.
“You let her go,” Simon said, bewildered. “You just let her walk out. I can’t believe you.”
They were now trekking through the snows of a lonely Russian street, at night.
“Whatever strength she has,” said Aldric, “it would take years to hone into something useful and reliable.”
“I’m not talking about that,” Simon blurted out. “She actually cared about you. Who do you think will ever care about someone like you? You’re…impossible.”
He couldn’t believe he was saying it; the words just spilled out of his mouth.
Aldric said coldly, “This is not a chess match. She made mistakes that rendered our work useless. We have no way of stopping them. No deathspells. All we have left is the unpredictable living fire. We’re lost. Do you understand this affects every human being in the entire world?”
But Simon had walked off ahead in frustration, not even turning as he raved on, “You just can’t stand relying on somebody else. Why did you bring me if you didn’t want me here? I would’ve been just fine in Ebony Hollow. There are, you know, lots of things you took me away from. There are certain girls’ names I never even got to know. You wouldn’t understand any of this.”
“I have one obligation,” Aldric said evenly, “and that is to end the reign of the Serpents on this earth, before they kill us all. That woman could cost us our lives.”
“‘That woman’?” Simon repeated in anger. “She’s an actual human being with a name.”
Simon knew the argument would go too far, so he kept walking, avoiding Aldric’s response.
“I had to get rid of her, Simon,” Aldric said, leveling with him. “Staying with us, she was in danger. We all were. At least this way she’ll be safe.”
“So you go and make this decision without telling me. What I thought didn’t matter.”
“Watch yourself,” Aldric bristled. “You might at least make a show of respecting me.”
Simon wouldn’t turn around.
He walked on, and stood waiting at a seedy hotel he knew his father would want for the night. Cheapskate.
In the hotel room, tempers had cooled to a civil silence.
Aldric sat at the table alone. Simon watched the snow at the window.
Aldric coughed. “Well, you’re getting better with the bow, I’ll say that. I knew I was right to keep you working at it. Even though it was the wrong thing to do, you hit that glass ceiling-beam dead on.”
“I’m still better with the sword. You should give me a chance to prove it. If you’d stop treating me like I was fine china and let me do something.”
Aldric looked at his son across the room, and although it was dark, Simon thought his eyes had misted up as he said, “I can’t let anything happen to you.” But Simon wasn’t sure.
“Well, if that’s the best I’m going to get out of you, I guess I’ll have to take it.”
Aldric groused, “What do you want from me? I said I’m sorry.”
“You never said you were sorry.” Simon looked away from him, tiredly, to the window and the falling snow. “Looks like we’re past the worst of it.”
“We’re not past anything,” mumbled Aldric. “Dragons uniting. This hasn’t happened for thousands of ye
ars. I’m not sure how it even got this far. It will make things nearly impossible for us. The power of Dragons united would be terrifying. We’ve got to break their alliance. We’ll have to watch the signs and figure out where they’ve gone. Time is of the essence. And we’ve nothing to go on.”
“There is one thing to go on…” Simon said quietly.
“What’s that? Did you say something?”
Simon took the seat near him. “The Paris one. Before he vanished, he said something. He said it in French.”
“You know I don’t speak French. My brother had the gift for languages, not me.”
“He said the Dragons could leave us there without a worry. He said all that stands between us and the Fire Eternal is ‘a visit to Peking.’ I’ve been thinking about it all day….”
Suddenly, Aldric was out of his chair, dragging their steamer trunk through the door of the old hotel. Simon wasn’t sure if his father was pleased with his knowledge of French or not, but they were once again on the move.
“We’re late. We’re late figuring this out, and we don’t have any time left. These Serpents have been joining forces one by one,” Aldric said. “Whatever they’re planning, they must be seeking out the last Dragon they need to join them. In China.”
“China…,” whispered Simon, marveling at the idea.
He hoped it was warmer there.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
THE LAIR OF THE PEKING BEAST
THE CHINESE CAPITAL WAS too far to get to easily by land or sea, and time was ticking away cruelly. Aldric hired a private plane for the voyage, paying with the gems he’d taken from Venice. The ship would have to be left behind, but in its remote dock it was in no danger, and there was plenty of food aboard for the animals.
The airplane left from Moscow, a fast, small jet that belonged to a group of gypsies who rented it out to make money. The crew was a joyous, singing, eccentric group that included guitar-playing girls and a grandmother who had brought a rocking chair aboard. The jet flew erratically across the ragged gray clouds, leaving Simon terrified.
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