A roar came from the dragon. It was almost a scream. Part rage and part agony?
“Did we hit it?” she yelled, as if anyone could hear her or she could have heard Zirkander if he replied.
The guns halted. She twisted, trying to spot the dragon, but she couldn’t even see Pimples anymore. Her shirt whipped at her face, and though she struggled one-handed to push it down, it was in vain. She flapped about at the end of her tether, as helpless as a flag to do anything.
A tug at her ankle surprised her. Something had snapped in her knee earlier, and a fresh jolt of fiery agony raced up her leg. She gasped, blackness encroaching on her vision. She blinked rapidly as if she could drive the darkness away.
It took her a moment to realize she was being pulled in. By Zirkander? It couldn’t be anyone else, but how was he managing that while flying? Her rope was secured to the frame of the back seat.
“Ahn!” came his cry, sounding a mile away instead of twenty feet. “If you’re conscious, I need your help. The dragon is after Pimples at this second, but we haven’t got much time.”
They were still flying at full speed. What help could she give? She waved her sword, if only to let him know she was, indeed, conscious. She tried to twist and grab the tether with her free hand, but she wasn’t strong enough to best the force generated by their speed. With another slightly insane laugh, she decided she should have run this idea past Pimples and had him calculate just how impossible climbing back into the flier would be.
Despite her uselessness, she was pulled inexorably closer until her foot bumped something hard. Zirkander, twisted halfway out of his seat and flying with his boot, hauled her into the flier. The expression contorting his face was impossible to read. Maybe that was for the best.
As she clawed her way into her seat, he yelled, “You’re crazier than I am, Ahn.”
“That’s why we tied me to the tether, wasn’t it?” she yelled back, halfway between elation and disbelief that she was still alive. Kasandral kept smacking the rim of her seat well, and she realized it was because her hands were shaking so much. “Did we get him?”
“We hurt him before he got his defenses back up, but he’s still flying.” Zirkander lowered himself into his seat, taking the stick in hand again.
“Little help, sir?” Pimples asked over the crystal. “He’s—”
A crack like a rifle firing sounded from Pimples’ cockpit. Cas’s stomach sank. She was certain he didn’t have a rifle with him.
Zirkander turned their flier around, and Cas caught sight of Pimples’ craft as it sailed downward, streaming smoke, the tail on fire. Distress and fear brought tears to her eyes. Pimples might or might not survive his landing. Either way, she and the general were all alone now.
Chapter 20
I hate to interrupt you, but I’m sensing more trouble on the horizon.
Sardelle was using her mental powers to rebuild Therrik’s collapsed right lung, and the concentration required was intense enough that she had lost all track of the outpost. She had already knitted the gash in his left lung, as well as the broken rib that had been responsible for it. He had other wounds, but those could wait until they weren’t in the middle of the courtyard with a battle raging overhead.
That battle is over the back side of Goat Mountain right now, but that’s not the trouble on the horizon. Also, there’s so much sleet and snow falling that I’m only guessing there’s a horizon out there somewhere.
When Sardelle reached a point where she could stop working on Therrik and he wouldn’t die, she knelt back, opening her eyes and blinking around her. As Jaxi had promised, Ridge and the others weren’t in sight. That didn’t mean much since clouds hung thick around the mountains and sleet continued to slash from the sky, reducing the visibility. Jaxi was still protecting Sardelle and her patient from the elements, but she could hear the wind roaring through the valley. She also heard General Ort issuing orders from one of the towers, but she could only make out the outpost wall closest to them. She tried to sense Ridge, to check on the battle, but he was out of her range.
He’s alive, Jaxi said, probably just beyond the edge of your senses. The wind has driven them away from the valley. The airship was attacked—mutilated—and went down. Duck and Kaika’s flier was hit by lightning, and they were forced to land in the valley. Ridge and Cas are still out there. Pimples’ craft was damaged, and he’s trying to find a spot to land.
Is the dragon wounded at all? Sardelle couldn’t keep the frustration and despair from her words at this devastating report.
Yes, they’ve hurt him, but all that has done is enrage him. He’s either forgotten about the pretty crystal, or he’s decided to annihilate everyone before coming back for it.
The artifact lay on its side in the mud where Sardelle had left it. She and Therrik were alone in the courtyard, aside from Phelistoth and Tylie. When last Sardelle had looked, Tylie had been leaning against her wounded dragon and crying on him. Now she lay atop his back, arms wrapped around his neck. It was the position she rode him in. After a long look to the south, Phelistoth rose slowly to his feet. Blood stained the frosty earth under him, and weariness and pain made his movements slow and stiff. Despite his injuries, he crouched and sprang skyward. His wings beat with enough power to take them into the air. Tylie’s tear-streaked faced turned toward Sardelle.
He’s too hurt to fight more, Tylie whispered into her mind. He says to leave the crystal, that it’s not worth dying for.
Is he taking you somewhere safe?
Yes. Do you want me to ask him if he’ll come get you too?
Phelistoth had already disappeared from Sardelle’s view, flying into the clouds hanging low in the valley.
I can’t leave while Ridge and everyone else is still in danger, Sardelle said, but I agree with his thought to take you somewhere safe.
I don’t. But I’m too puny to be any help. Tylie’s sad sigh came through the mental link.
Someday, you won’t be.
If we live that long, Jaxi interrupted. Phelistoth’s tragic departure isn’t what I was warning you about.
I was afraid of that.
At first, I thought I sensed the sorceress.
Here in the outpost? Sardelle dropped a hand to Jaxi’s pommel. She was still on her knees beside Therrik, but she would get up to fight if she had to.
No, at a lower elevation. On foot or maybe on horseback and heading this way, but another problem showed up, and now I can’t sense her. I’m not even positive it was her that I felt.
What problem? Sardelle could only think of one thing that would overwhelm Jaxi’s senses.
More dragons.
Dragons? Plural?
Yes, and they’re flying this way.
From where? The cavern?
Unless you know of a place where more dragons have been hiding, that would be my guess.
Sardelle stared down at the purple crystal. Who had released them? And was the crystal what they were coming for? She could feel its power, but she couldn’t imagine that power acting as a beacon across hundreds of miles. Phelistoth hadn’t sensed it, as far as she knew, until they had been down in the mountain and close to it.
First off, I’m not positive that’s true. Second, it was in a vault before, and I think that vault insulated the artifacts inside. I certainly was never aware of the existence of the fancy paperweight or anything else dragon-kissed, and I came in and out of the mountain thousands of times over the years with my handlers. What you need to decide now is whether we’re going to try to hide it from the new dragons or stand back and let them have it. Judging by how much trouble we’re having with one dragon, I suggest the latter.
While Sardelle was staring bleakly at the crystal, which glowed softly but otherwise offered no advice, Therrik opened his eyes.
He still lay flat on his back in the ice and mud, and she felt guilty that she hadn’t taken him into the machine shop where there were blankets and cots for the injured.
He should be
tickled that you didn’t throttle him while he was unconscious. I might have.
“What’s… status?” Therrik rasped, a hand going to his abdomen. He should be able to breathe normally now, but he still had damage that would hurt.
“The airship is down, General Ort is on the wall, and Ridge and Cas are fighting the dragon.” Oh, how Sardelle wished she could monitor that fight. When she had decided to stay behind, she’d assumed the air battle would be nearby and that she could help Ridge if necessary. She hadn’t factored in the wind. Now she wished she was up there. Even if Cas had to fly with Ridge, she could have ridden behind Pimples. Maybe she could have kept him in the air. And Duck and Kaika too.
If you’d left, your biggest fan would be dead. Stop berating yourself, and then decide what we’re going to do. I can shield you from hail all day, but not from a pack of dragons.
A pack? Did they all get released from that cavern? And if so, how? According to General Ort’s report, the Cofah had been bombing the cavern, not rescuing dragons from it.
There are three coming, and I didn’t ask them. Maybe the bombing is what broke their magical prisons and freed them.
“Dragon?” Therrik asked. “Are they hurting it?” He had been craning his neck, probably wondering if there was anyone else besides Sardelle that he could appeal to for information.
Maybe he’s afraid he’ll have to be civil to you now that you’ve saved his life.
Ignoring Jaxi, Sardelle offered Therrik an arm. “My understanding is that they’ve hurt him, yes, but that they’re having trouble getting their bullets through his shield to finish him off, and Cas isn’t able to get close enough to hit him with the sword. Do you want to stand? If you’re careful, you should be able to.” Sardelle looked toward the southern sky, as if she could see the threat coming through the snow. “I’ll need to see you again later, but your lungs are in working order. They’ll be tender. Don’t overdo anything.”
Instead of accepting her offer of a hand up, Therrik touched his chest, staring down at his blood-spattered jacket. He touched his mouth. The blood he had been spitting up earlier had dried, but she didn’t know if he could feel it or even if that was what he was trying to feel. He seemed dazed.
I’m sure he’s never been healed before. Sardelle? Jaxi rarely showed signs of anxiousness, but her agitation came through now, along with her insistence that they do something.
I know. I just don’t know what we can do. Would it be possible to get back down into the mountain and hide the crystal in the vault again? So they can’t sense it?
You mean the vault that Morishtomaric melted with his mind?
Ah, possibly.
Therrik pushed himself slowly to his feet. Sardelle’s knees were cold from kneeling in the mud, and she stood too. She picked up the crystal, more because she felt she had been anointed its keeper rather than out of a desire to hold it. She worried that Phelistoth hadn’t told them enough and that giving it to the dragons could be a bad thing, especially if these dragons were coming from that cavern. The plaque on the wall there had promised they were imprisoned because they were criminals.
I’m asking Phelistoth—he hasn’t quite flown out of my range yet. He says it’s only a repository of knowledge, nothing more. Definitely not a weapon.
Knowledge can be a weapon, Jaxi.
He thinks they want to know what he wants to know—what happened to their kind. Maybe they’ll find out and then leave this world to join them.
What if the dragons all died? I doubt these ones will make a suicide pact to join them. If the others went somewhere else, what if… what if there’s a way for them to come back? What if they’re able to communicate with other dragons and invite them to return to our world?
You’re speculating wildly. Whatever’s in that rock, it’s not worth dying for, not when nothing could be gained from your death. Just leave it in the mud and let them fight among themselves for it.
Is that what they would do? Can you get a sense of them? Sardelle doubted Jaxi could read any of the dragons’ thoughts, since neither of them had gotten the gist of Phelistoth’s or Morishtomaric’s minds.
I can see that they’re not flying in a happy V like ducks. They seem to be racing each other.
“I’m going to report to General Ort,” Therrik said.
Sardelle almost waved goodbye to him, with the notion that clearing the courtyard would be a good idea, but she had to warn the soldiers that more company was coming, even if their artillery weapons could do nothing to stop them.
“Therrik?” Sardelle asked.
He had taken a few steps, but he paused, a wary expression on his face.
“Please tell General Ort that there are three more dragons coming. Jaxi—” She paused, debating if he already knew about Jaxi or if she would have to explain the sentient soulblade to him. In that moment, the first dragon came close enough for her to sense it. Her. A female.
Two are male and one is female, the one in the lead, Jaxi informed her.
“If you’re trying to make me piss myself in fear,” Therrik said, “that’s not going to happen. Your cloud-humping boyfriend is the only one who’s ever managed to get me to lose control of bodily functions.”
A second dragon came within her range, and she barely heard his comment. The pressure that came with a dragon’s presence started to build in Sardelle’s head again.
“I’m not,” she said, realizing Therrik was staring at her. Waiting to see if she was joking? As if she would joke about such a thing. “I’m the one who got stuck cleaning your lost control up the first time.”
Therrik grunted, then waved to her. Whether it was in acknowledgment or dismissal, she did not know. He turned his back and strode toward the nearest set of stairs leading up to the wall. At the moment, the guns weren’t firing, not with Morishtomaric behind the mountain and out of the soldiers’ sight, but she could hear the men’s voices as they wondered what was going on. More than a few of them were gazing down at her and Therrik, and the miners were still watching the courtyard and the skies from the doors and windows of their barracks. She reminded herself that she had stayed behind to help those people.
Sardelle hefted the crystal.
Jaxi’s pommel flashed red in irritation.
Don’t be crabby. I’m just going to try something. Sardelle peered in the direction that the dragons were coming from. She couldn’t see anything, but they were flying faster than Ridge’s best flier, so it wouldn’t be long before they descended upon the outpost. Any idea as to which one seems the most likely to make a deal with a human?
They haven’t introduced themselves to me.
The third dragon came within Sardelle’s range. Perhaps the one losing the race?
Whatever you’re planning to do, try it soon. Ridge and Cas are having trouble. The dragon has stopped trying to catch them with fire and is hurling his magic around.
Sardelle closed her eyes, fresh worry eating at her. Fresh guilt too. There was one more flier in the fort, wasn’t there? The one Cas had piloted from the airship the day before. Yes, it was in the corner behind the headquarters building. Now that Therrik was on his feet, could General Ort take the flier up to join the others? She didn’t know what he could do, but maybe being up there and harrying the dragon would help Ridge and Cas stay alive.
I’ll ask him while you toss the crystal on the ground and forget any plans you have involving dragons.
Jaxi… Sardelle didn’t think Jaxi had communicated with Ort before, and this wasn’t the time to alarm him with her existence. I’ll go up there myself. In a minute. She prayed that Ridge had a minute, and tears sprang to her eyes at the thought of losing him because of a foolish decision. But he wouldn’t want her to abandon the fort and all of these people to help him.
It doesn’t matter what he would want. He’s more worth keeping alive than these clods.
Jaxi sounded more emotional than rational, something Sardelle had no problem understanding. I didn’t realize you were
so attached, she thought sadly, little humor in the comment. I’m going to— She halted, an idea popping into her head. Wait, Jaxi. I take it back. Talk to Ort. Tell him to get his flier ready. We need to get into the sky right away.
Understood. Jaxi must have seen Sardelle’s intentions in her mind, because she didn’t argue.
That might or might not mean approval, but there was no time to ask. Sardelle closed her eyes and envisioned the dragons—three golds—fighting the wind as they approached the front of Galmok Mountain. They were angling to fly around it, in the direction of the outpost rather than toward Goat Mountain and the battle. Alarming, but a relief all the same. If they had been going to join Morishtomaric, there would not have been any way she could join Ridge before it was too late. As it was, Morishtomaric might have started flinging magic about instead of fire because he sensed them coming and knew he was out of time.
Dragon, Sardelle called out to the gold losing the race, falling farther behind the two leaders. She wished she knew the creature’s name. She would recognize it if he introduced himself, since she had studied all of the names on that plaque, but she had no way to know which three dragons were coming.
Rude of them not to wear nametags.
Ha ha. Did you talk to Ort?
Yes. He’s worried about the others too. He’s willing to go up if you can keep the flier aloft in the weather.
I can promise to help with the weather, yes. Keeping it aloft against everything else… that was tougher to promise.
He’s on his way down.
Dragon? Sardelle called again, wondering if he hadn’t heard her or if he was simply ignoring her. She jogged toward the flier in the corner of the courtyard while hoping she wasn’t wasting her time. If this one was too self-important to talk to her, she would try the second-place dragon.
Dragon? came a response that made her stumble with its power. I am the god! Bhrava Saruth! You may worship me when I arrive.
Oh, no. He’s not self-important at all, Jaxi said.
I am looking forward to doing so, Sardelle responded, ignoring the incredulous noise Jaxi made in her mind. I have something for you. She sent an image of the crystal in her arms as she rounded the headquarters building and the flier came into sight.
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