"Your hand," she said. "Will you not bandage it? I do not wish to look upon this thing."
Phel grunted and sidestepped beneath him. The twisted beast was smaller than Baal, but Mahrdor thought his girl just as mean. He patted her scales until she calmed.
"You created this hand, my queen," he said and raised it in salute. "Don't you wish to remember your power over me? Don't you wish me to always remember my sin and your might?"
"I care not," she said. "You are a soldier. A tool. That is all." She looked at the tunnel entrance. Heat and distant screams rose from it. "I care about the Weredragon King. I care to see his body burned and writhing, not yours."
Mahrdor allowed himself a thin smile. "I can give you the Weredragon King. You may burn him yourself if you please."
She snarled at him. "I asked you to bring me the whore Lyana, and you let her free. What nonsense do you spout now?"
Upon his wyvern, he sketched an elaborate bow. "No nonsense, my queen, only information. I persuaded our prisoners to impart it. There is another doorway to these tunnels; it lies outside the city. The weredragons carved it as an escape route." He looked at the acid pouring underground. "They will be escaping now, I presume. Your Weredragon King, his sister, and probably the lords and ladies of the Reptile Court—including my beloved bird—are likely crawling out from the city as we speak."
She reeled Baal toward him. The beast snarled and his drool spattered. Solina herself looked nearly as beastly, her eyes blazing and her lip curled back.
"Where does this tunnel lead to?" She raised her sabre. "Speak, Mahrdor, or by the Sun God, your right arm will burn too."
Mahrdor laughed and flexed his ruined fingers. The pain flared, turning his laughter into a grimace. He coughed blood and smiled. "I will lead you there, my queen. I will lead you to the Weredragon King." He kicked Phel, driving her closer to Solina. He glared into his queen's eyes. "But I want my Lyana. And I want the Weredragon Princess. Give me those two rare birds, so that I may reshape them and turn them into pets of my own. You can keep the king and do with him as you please."
Staring at him, her eyes blue ice, she tugged Baal's reins. She spun the beast around until wyvern pushed against wyvern. She leaned sideways in the saddle toward Mahrdor, sword drawn and eyes narrowed.
"Show me there." She kicked her wyvern, soared, and howled. "If the king is mine, his women will be yours! Now fly!"
Mahrdor smiled and flew.
ELETHOR
The acid kept pouring. Wails rose through the chambers. Acid pooled and people huddled atop boulders and clung to walls. More acid streamed from above and sizzled. Droplets splashed onto flesh and burns spread. Feet melted. Children wept. An old man cried to the stars and leaped into the stream, a vain attempt to hold it back with his body; the acid ate through him and kept pouring.
"Elethor!" said Deramon, face red. He moved through the crowd, grabbed Elethor, and pulled him toward the wall. "This is it, Elethor. It's time to leave—you and Mori."
Eyes somber, Deramon gestured at the tapestry Mori had woven, which hung upon a craggy wall. Elethor knew what lay behind it—the escape tunnel carved for his family, a snaking pipe that led outside the city.
He looked back at the crowd of survivors. Many had begun to dig, forming holes for acid to fill and mounds to stand on. Others stood upon corpses. The acid kept flowing around them, moving from chamber to chamber.
"There are thousands of people here," Elethor said. "I won't leave them to die."
Mori stood by his side, face pale but lips firm. She nodded, head raised. "I'm not leaving either, Deramon," she said with a voice soft but steady. "I am princess of this realm; I go down with the ship."
Deramon scowled, looking from king to princess. His eyes darkened and his lips curled back in a growl. "You and Mori are the last Aeternums, a dynasty that has ruled in Requiem for three thousand years. I loved your father, Elethor, and I loved your brother. I won't let you and your sister die too. I am sworn to guard your house; I will not let it fall."
Elethor glared at the older man. "And I am sworn to guard this realm, and I will not let it fall." He grabbed the tapestry and pulled it free, revealing the tunnel. He turned to the survivors and called out, voice echoing. "Mothers and babes—to me! Mothers and babes only—through this tunnel! It will lead you to safety. Mothers and babes only!"
The people wailed. At once it seemed that everyone was charging toward the tunnel. One man slipped and fell into streaming acid; he screamed and burned. Bayrin stood in the crowd, holding men back, shouting for mothers and babes. Adia was praying and guiding mothers forward. People were weeping.
Elethor clutched Mori's hand. He looked into her wide gray eyes. She stared back steadily, clutching his hand.
"Are you sure, Mori?" he whispered. "I will send you through this tunnel if you wish it. There are thousands of people here; it would take hours for everyone to crawl out, and we have only moments before the acid overflows us."
Her eyes flashed. Her lips tightened. Suddenly Mori looked as fierce and strong as Lyana.
"I stay," she said. "With you. With my people. If we go to the starlit halls, we go together." She raised her voice to the crowd. "Mothers and babes only! Move, to us!"
Soon the first mother appeared at their side, weeping and clutching her newborn. Adia, her white robes tattered and burnt, helped guide the young woman and her babe into the tunnel. Soon they disappeared into the darkness.
"Keep crawling!" Elethor called into the tunnel. "Crawl for an hour—until you reach the forest—then fly! Fly east and don't return."
Bayrin and Deramon were moving through the chambers, guiding mothers and babes through the crowd. Adia helped each pair enter the tunnels and prayed for them. Some older men tried to shove their way through, to enter the tunnels themselves; Bayrin and Deramon held them back.
"Mothers and babes only!" Elethor shouted. Only ten pairs had entered the tunnel so far; countless still remained. "Into the tunnel. Crawl and then fly!"
Wyvern shrieks echoed above with new vigor. The flow of acid intensified. People screamed and scrambled onto one another. The holes they had dug filled up, and the mounds began to melt. The acid began to consume Elethor's boots and sting his feet. He breathed sharply through clenched teeth. Mori clasped his hand so hard she nearly crushed it. In the far side of the tunnel, where the floor sloped, people wailed. The acid rose past their ankles, then reached their knees. They began to fall and burn away.
"Into the tunnels, go, my child!" Adia cried to a mother and babe, helping them climb into the darkness.
We're not going to last another moment, Elethor realized. How many had they saved? Thirty people? Forty? The rest of Requiem will die in these tunnels, the end of our Second Age.
Lyana moved through the crowd toward him. Her face was pale, her eyes wide. She clung to his arm.
"Elethor," she whispered. "Elethor, I will fly with you. I will roar by your side in the starlit halls. We fly there together." She growled at him. "Don't you leave me there!"
Elethor growled too. The acid blazed against the soles of his feet, and he pushed himself to the wall. Panic swelled in his lungs.
No. No! I won't let Requiem fall on my watch. Not for my war with Solina.
People fell and screamed and melted before him. They reminded him of the bodies he had seen last year in the Abyss, but back then, hope had awaited them. He and Lyana had freed the Starlit Demon. They had driven the beast through the earth, carving a great shaft out into the sky.
What I would give for such a tunnel now! I—
Elethor froze.
He snarled. He looked at Lyana who clung to his left. He looked at Mori who clung to his right. He loved them both so much that he shook with it. He nodded. His eyes stung.
For my father. For Orin. For the light of our stars and the sky in our wings.
He looked at Mother Adia. "Adia, I need you to stay here. I need you to keep leading the mothers and babes through the tunnel; onc
e they've all escaped, you will crawl after them, and you will lead them to safety." He turned to Deramon. "You too, Deramon; they will need your strength. You and Adia will lead the survivors."
They all stared at him. Adia sucked in her breath.
"What are you planning, Elethor?" the priestess whispered.
He turned away from her. He looked between Lyana and Mori, who both clung to him, and at Bayrin, who approached with somber eyes.
"Fly by my side, Lyana and Bayrin," he whispered. "Fly by me, Mori. Whatever happens, we fly together."
They looked at him, lips tightened. They said nothing.
If we die, we die together, Elethor thought. If today I fall, I fall with those whom I love. He squared his shoulders and raised his head. But I won't fall without a battle for the poets to sing of.
He faced the crowd and roared.
"People of Requiem!" he shouted. "Hear me, Vir Requis! I am your king, Elethor Aeternum, Son of Olasar. Hear me today!"
They turned toward him, and he saw the fear in their eyes. I am their king; let me be a pillar to them. He raised his head and spoke in a voice deep and clear.
"We are in darkness," he said. "We are in the pit of despair. But I do not lose hope. I do not stop fighting. Even in the most dark, hopeless cave a light shines somewhere; we will find that light and crawl toward it." He pointed to the tunnel behind him. "Mothers and babes—Adia will lead you to safety. She will lead you to light. Follow her through darkness and into the wild."
The mothers kept moving toward the tunnel, clutching their infants. Some moved on burnt, twisted feet. Adia and Deramon continued helping them into the tunnel, blessing them with prayers. Elethor raised his voice louder.
"The rest of you!" he shouted. "We will find our light too. We will find our sky. I promise this to you. Today you are soldiers! Today you are all warriors of Requiem. Young and old, children and elders, you now fight for the Royal Army! You can fly as dragons. You can blow fire. You can slash your claws. Today we all fight with one roar! Today we are all warriors of starlight! Stand back, people of Requiem, hear my roar and answer my call!"
He let go of Lyana and Mori.
He leaped through the people toward the flowing acid.
In the chamber of stone, he shifted into a dragon.
People screamed and scurried back. Elethor's claws reached out, hitting the walls. His wings hit the ceiling. In dragon form, he nearly filled the chamber, nearly crushed the people beneath him. They ran and leaped over acid. With a great dragon roar, Elethor began to slam his tail against the northern wall.
This is where the Starlit Demon flew, he remembered. He had seen the tunnel maps. This was the place—beyond this wall. Here had the Starlit Demon carved its cavern. Here awaited their sky. He slammed his tail and chunks of rock fell.
"Requiem!" he cried, fire in his maw. "Our wings will find your sky!"
He slammed his tail again. Cracks raced. Rocks plummeted. The wall collapsed outward, revealing a gaping shaft—a hundred feet in diameter—full of wind and rain and echoing wyvern cries.
"Fly, dragons of Requiem!" Elethor shouted and leaped into the great shaft. He beat his wings and soared toward the sky. Walls of stone raced at his sides. "To death! To blood! To glory! Today we all fight; today we roar as one!"
With a roar that could deafen gods, the dragons of Requiem soared behind him—out of darkness and into the light of battle and song.
SOLINA
Outside the city the forests burned. Solina flew upon her wyvern, savoring the smell of smoke. It was a dry summer; Solina had kindled these flames only yesterday, and they now raced across Requiem, eating all in their path. She smiled thinly as she flew over the burning landscapes. Should any weredragons escape Nova Vita, they would find little sanctuary here. No places remained for them to hide. All the weredragon lands now blazed with the light of her lord, casting out the reptilian darkness.
She looked behind her. Lord Mahrdor flew there upon his own wyvern, and behind him flew fifty of his men, each armed with crossbow, spear, sword, and shield. Their wyverns screamed and their wings roiled the smoke from the blazing lands below. Behind them, Nova Vita lay as a black smudge upon the land, bustling with wyverns like flies over a carcass.
Her smile widened. You will flee that rotting carcass of your city, Elethor, she thought. You will flee into my arms.
Mahrdor flew up beside her. He pointed his ruined hand below.
"There, my queen. Three boulders by a hillside. That is where the weredragons will emerge." He licked his lips. "That is where Lyana and I will meet again."
Solina imagined what he would do to Lyana, and laughter bubbled in her throat. She had seen Mahrdor's work before. Truly, the man was an artist. She had seen the scrolls he made from human skin, the chairs of bones, the shrunken heads, the pickled hands. And she had seen worse: the sniveling, pathetic creations he kept in his deeper chambers. Those ones were his greatest treasures, living works of art that he had created—breaking and reshaping bones, sewing flesh to flesh, twisting and burning and molding his prisoners into creatures of haunted beauty.
That is what awaits you, Lyana, Solina thought. That is what awaits you, Mori.
She began spiraling her wyvern down toward the boulders. Her men descended around her, wings fanning the forest flames.
"But you, Elethor," she whispered. "You will be mine to torment. I will break you myself. I will wield the hammers that nail you to my tower, that shatter your bones, that make you scream and weep and beg. I will stand there, glorious in the light of my lord, and watch my vultures feast upon your living flesh." She clenched her fists. "The entire kingdom will watch, and the people your father orphaned will cheer!"
She landed in a patch of burnt grass and hot stones. Baal screeched at the flames that surrounded them; the wyvern was skittish, bucking and whipping his tail. Solina patted his scales.
"Hush, Baal!" she said. "The fire of our lord cannot hurt us. Hush! Lower your wing."
The beast calmed, though his eyes still blazed red and his tongue still lolled, dripping acid that burned holes into the earth. When he lowered his wing, Solina climbed down to the forest floor. Grass smoldered beneath her boots. Before her in the hillside loomed the black mouth of a tunnel.
Solina grabbed the crossbow that hung across her back. She loaded a bolt and twisted the crank, pulling the string taut.
"Load crossbows, men," she said over her shoulder. "We enter the darkness."
Mahrdor and the others were dismounting their wyverns. The firelight blazed against their armor. They grabbed their own crossbows, and the sounds of twisting cranks filled the forest. Swords hung from their waists and spears hung across their backs.
"Let us slay some dragons," Solina said.
She turned back to the tunnel, and was prepared to enter it, when she saw two weredragons emerge. A grin split her face.
The female weredragon was halfway out the tunnel when she noticed the Tirans, paled, and froze. She held a babe in her arms; the little beast began to wail. Solina loosed her crossbow into the spawn; its wails died at once.
The mother screamed. Mahrdor's crossbow thrummed. Its bolt slammed into the mother's throat, and the wench fell, gurgling, still clutching her babe as if it still lived. Solina drew her sabre and landed two blows, finishing the job.
"Where is the Weredragon Princess?" Mahrdor demanded. "Where is the Lady Lyana?"
As Solina was loading another bolt, a shadow stirred in the tunnels. Solina saw a second mother and babe crawling forward. When the mother began to flee back into darkness, Solina shot her crossbow again, hitting the creature inside the tunnel. Her men shot their crossbows too, until the wailing babe inside silenced, and blood trickled out.
Solina sighed. "Oh, Elethor. You fool." She shook her head sadly and looked at Mahrdor. "The weredragons carved an escape tunnel... but send mothers and babes out, rather than their monarchs." She spat onto the body at her feet. "Noble halfwits. It will be their death."
>
Mahrdor cleared his throat and stared down at the bodies in distaste. "I care not for mothers and infants. I want a knight. I want a princess. I want my birds of paradise."
Solina loaded another bolt and stepped toward the tunnel. "You will have them, and I will have my king, though their feet might be a little burnt. They still cower inside as our acid flows." She entered the tunnel; it was only four feet tall, forcing her to crawl. She held her crossbow before her. "Follow, men! We slew them in the sky, and we will slay them underground."
She had crawled a dozen feet when she saw candlelight ahead. Yet another mother crawled there, clutching her wailing offspring. Solina shot them, loaded another bolt, and wriggled over their bodies. The babe was still alive and squirming; she slew it with her dagger. Every ten or twenty feet, she had to shoot another spawning beast and her get. The blood flowed across the tunnel.
She had crawled for what seemed like an hour, and she was down to only three crossbow bolts, when she saw firelight and heard screams ahead.
She grinned.
When she crawled closer, she saw a scene of ruin. A great chamber loomed ahead; in its walls, she saw passageways to other chambers. Bodies littered the floor, nearly covered with acid; most were nothing but bones now. A handful of survivors—more spawning mothers—crowded upon a mound of earth, waiting to enter the escape tunnel.
Solina licked her lips, leaped from the darkness, and landed among them.
The babes wailed. The mothers screamed. Behind her, her men began leaping from the tunnel, and crossbows fired, and mothers fell dead.
A roar echoed.
Solina spun around to see a great, coppery dragon in the chamber. She inhaled sharply. Lord Deramon! The beast stood before a wall that had collapsed. Through the gaping hole, Solina saw a shaft leading upward; she recognized the passageway the Starlit Demon had carved last year. Wyverns were flying down the shaft; Deramon was holding them back and blowing flames. Acid blazed across him, eating through his scales, but still the dragon howled, blew fire, and lashed claws. The wyverns were trying to enter the chamber, to attack the mothers and babes; the dragon flamed them.
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