The passage wound to the left and right, but ever downward until it finally opened up into another, larger cavern. As Kale approached the opening, he noticed a dim light up ahead. A warm draft washed over his skin and a green luminescence filtered into the tunnel. Kale hurried on, and moments later found himself looking out across a small lake. He noted the slight discoloration of the water, the milky haze and the soft yellow-green glow. A thin, hazy mist drifted across the surface.
“Starfall,” he said in a whisper. “It has to be.”
As he stood there, Kale observed a sudden churning in the waters and a rush of bubbles to the surface. A mass of steam filled the cavern. A gust of heat washed over him, blowing out his torch as the fog went gliding up the tunnel. The lake went still. Kale tossed his extinguished torch aside. He no longer needed it anyway. The cavern was bright enough on its own, and the warrior knew he could easily find his way back.
A glint of light in the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was the body of another knight lying prone over a stalagmite, the stone formation thrusting up through his abdomen. Kale stepped closer and saw the man’s sword lying on the ground beneath him. A quick inspection showed it to be rusted, but sturdy. It was more functional than Elberone’s weapon, at least.
“Kale?” said a woman’s voice.
He dropped Elberone’s sword and followed the sound to the odd, glistening shapes of stalagmites rising like a forest against the back wall of the cavern. As he arrived, Shayla came out to greet him. She took him by the hand, drawing him in with her.
“Hurry,” she said. “The dragon might be back any moment. It can’t reach us in here.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “I killed it.”
Shayla stepped closer, looking up into his face. Kale couldn’t help the stirring that came over him as he looked down at her. Shayla was beautiful. Her flawless porcelain skin seemed to glow in the ambient light, and her eyes glistened with moisture. Her lips were full and red, and she smelled like a perfume of wildflowers and roses. Her eyebrows narrowed, pencil-perfect lines so exquisite that even Micah couldn’t have drawn them so flawlessly.
“You killed the dragon?” she said in disbelief. “How?”
“With Sir Elberone’s lance.”
“Which one?”
“He only had one.”
“No, I mean which dragon?”
Kale’s eyes widened.
“Never mind,” she said. “We have to get out of here.”
She pulled him toward the tunnel, but something in the water caught Kale’s attention. The warrior paused for a closer look. Beneath the shimmering waves, he saw a perfectly round, obsidian-black orb. He stepped closer and noted several more of differing colors nearby. Shayla stepped up next to him. She took his hand in hers.
“Eggs,” she said. “We mustn’t disturb them.”
Kale glanced at her and then back at the water. As he stared, he realized that what had first appeared to be brightly colored stones scattered across the bottom of the lake could only have been, in fact, dragon eggs.
“This is why it brought us here,” he mumbled.
“What?”
“Food,” he said. “I think the dragon was going to feed us to the hatchlings.”
“Hurry,” Shayla pleaded, pulling on his arm. “It’s not safe to stay here!”
“Not yet,” Kale said. He pulled free of her grip and stepped into the shallow edge of the water. It was warm, almost hot against his skin.
“But it’s dangerous,” Shayla said. “There is starfall in the water!”
“Not that dangerous,” Kale said confidently. “A few seconds won’t hurt.”
He moved deeper into the water. It moved up the legs of his breeches, past his knees and halfway up his thighs. He bent down next to the obsidian orb and reached into the water, feeling the heat move up his arms. The surface of the egg was smooth, and it felt hard as stone. He pulled on it, but it resisted. It was somehow attached to the bottom of the pool. He bent lower, tightening his grip.
“You shouldn’t be doing this,” Shayla said in the background.
Kale pushed the egg from side to side, wiggling it back and forth. Gradually, it began to move. He tightened his grip, gave it one last tug, and the egg pulled free. Kale stumbled back, holding it in the air triumphantly. Shayla watched with an anxious look as he plodded back onto the glassy shore.
“Look at it!” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I don’t like it,” Shayla said. “I think it’s full of snakes.”
Kale frowned. “A dragon is not a snake,” he said. “For all we know, it might not even be a serpent. It could be a completely different… thing.”
“Not different enough,” Shayla said in disgust. “Can we leave now?”
“Of course.”
They hurried back up the tunnel. As the light of the cavern faded, Kale realized that the ceiling of the tunnel was glowing with a dim green luminescence. He hadn’t noticed it on the way in because of his torch, but he recognized the phenomenon. It was exactly the same thing he’d seen in the Forgotten city, and according to Socrates, it was because of starfall.
A minute later, the couple emerged into the cool night air. The mechanical horse stood a few yards off, just the other side of the stream. Shayla saw Elberone’s smoking corpse and caught her breath.
“I tried to help him,” Kale explained. “He was determined to fight the dragon. He was out of his mind. There was nothing I could do.”
“How horrible,” Shayla said. “What a tragic way to end his life. Do you think he wished it so?”
Kale shrugged. He turned, glancing up at the cliffs. “We must be somewhere north of Stormwatch. If we can find a way over these cliffs, the train should be…”
Shayla gasped. Kale looked at her and found Shayla staring at the dragon’s corpse on the beach. The scales glistened in the starlight, waves washing up around it. Kale grinned.
“It’s dead,” he said, pulling her in that direction. “I told you, I killed it.” He guided her closer and then leaned up against the corpse, proudly displaying his trophy.
“How?” she said. “How could you kill something so large?”
“’Cause I’m smart,” Kale said.
At that instant, a large wave rolled over him, sucking the warrior’s feet out from under him. Kale dropped into the water with a yelp. He somersaulted a couple times and then managed to get back to his feet. He was shivering, but still clinging to his sword. Shayla burst out laughing. Kale ignored her as he frantically searched the waves for the egg he had dropped. As the water rolled out, he saw the object tumbling across the sand. He hurried over and snatched it up before it could roll away. He stomped back up the beach, dripping wet and scowling. Shayla stifled her laughter with her hand.
“You’re a lot of help,” he snapped.
“Sorry. At least you washed off the starfall.”
“Keep giggling. I’ll throw you in, too.”
“I don’t think so,” Shayla said. “Icy seawater is not my thing. Ask me again when it’s a warm bath.”
Kale pulled off his shirt and twisted the excess water out. He glanced at Shayla and caught her staring at him. She jerked her gaze away. Kale started to say something, but stopped himself. Normally, he would have been happy to tease Shayla, to flirt with her, but tonight was different. He pulled his shirt over his head and howled as the icy cloth touched his skin. Shayla found this amusing, but managed not to laugh at him. Kale gathered up the egg, along with his new sword, and started back up the beach.
Kale helped Shayla onto Elberone’s horse. He handed her the egg, which she grudgingly agreed to carry, and then began leading the way up the beach, towards the road he had found. As they left, he threw one last glance back at the dragon. “I wish I could take the head for a trophy,” he said. “It’s the biggest thing I’ve ever killed. I bet nobody in the world has ever killed a beast that size.”
“You think so?” Shayla said
.
“Absolutely.”
“If you think she was impressive, you should see her mate. He’s three or four times that size.”
Kale almost tripped as he swung his head around to stare at her. He looked for a hint of a smile, a glimmer in her eyes, anything to prove that she was teasing. She wasn’t.
Chapter 8
For a moment, there was silence: nothing but the roar of blood pumping through River’s veins, the distant gasping sound of her own breath, the rhythmic, mechanical, almost inaudible beat of water dripping somewhere nearby. Then, as her vision cleared and her senses slowly returned, there came a new sound: Ka-thud! Ka-thud!
River rolled over, pushing painfully to her feet. She turned, eyes wild, her breasts heaving with exhaustion. A nine-foot tall sentinel stood before her. River’s heart caught in her throat. She had battled Sentinels before. It usually didn’t end well.
Had she been thinking clearly, River might have paid more attention to the sudden disappearance of Lord Rutherford. In her confused state, she could barely even process these simple concepts. She could only react to the new situation and hope to survive.
The Sentinel swiped at the barrels and crates, and sent them spinning and crashing into the walls. River stepped back, searching the room for her weapon. She spotted her revolver off to her right. She lunged to the left, feinting, and the Sentinel charged that direction to cut her off. River turned, vaulting across a barrel in a somersault. She hit the floor rolling, caught her weapon in one hand, and came up ready to fire. Before she could squeeze the trigger, the Sentinel appeared in front of her. It caught her by the wrist, squeezing painfully until the revolver slipped from her grasp. River blinked in confusion.
How had he moved so fast? It wasn’t possible!
No sooner had she thought this, than the sentinel struck out, backhanding her across the face. The blow sent River sprawling. She crashed into the hard stone wall and a flash of light filled her vision. An uncontrollable whimper escaped her lips. She twisted, clawing at the floor, wincing as the light grew brighter and brighter until it completely consumed her vision.
“Get back,” she shouted at the top of her lungs, hands searching the floor for her lost weapon. “Stop, or I’ll kill you!”
“Easy!” said a hoarse, deep, familiar voice. “Get a hold of yourself.”
The light moved, and River glimpsed broad, furry shoulders and a wide, flat snout.
“Socrates?” she said in a whimper. “Is that you?”
He turned. The crude electric lamp he wore on his head illuminated the room around them. Barrels and crates lay scattered about the cellar. Seemingly, they were alone. Socrates turned his attention back to River. He reached out, pressing something against her face. River panicked. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure it was him. Maybe it was another one of them; a Sentinel or Lord Rutherford trying to smother her.
She fought, kicking and twisting out of his grip, but Socrates held her down with muscles of steel. River’s strength gave out. She slumped back against the wall, blinking through the haze of the goggles. She heard the low hiss of compressed air leaking into the mask. Gradually, the fog began to clear from her mind.
The breathaginator! she thought. No, that wasn’t it. That was just a stupid name Micah had made up. She couldn’t remember what the real name was. It didn’t matter, because she knew what it did. She looked up and found Socrates staring down at her.
“What happened?” she said. Her voice sounded muffled behind the mask.
“It’s the fog. It appears to have some sort of some sort of psychoactive property.”
She blinked. “A psych… it’s a what?”
Socrates scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Psychoactive. It’s hallucinogenic, like a drug. You’ve been seeing visions, have you not?”
River nodded. “That was from the fog?”
“It would seem so. The fog appears to have affected the others the same way. I need your help to round them up before someone gets hurt, or worse yet, killed.” He extended a hand and pulled her to her feet. His hands were coarse against her skin, like leather covered with sand. River brushed up against him. The ape’s fur was stiff, almost painful to touch. She smiled.
“You’re real,” she said, patting his shoulder.
“I’m glad we have that settled. I was getting worried.”
River laughed. She slapped him on the back. “Socrates, you made a joke!”
“You’re still disoriented,” he said. “Let’s get you back to the train.”
“Wait! My revolver…” She looked around and saw it lying on the floor just a few feet away. She tucked it into her holster. Socrates lifted her in his arms and climbed the stairs back up to the pantry. As they emerged from the stairwell and entered the kitchen, River frowned. She turned her head left and right. Something about the place was familiar. She had been here before…
“Kale!” she said. “Where is Kale?”
“I haven’t seen him.”
“No, you don’t understand. He was here… he was right here, with me.”
She pushed away, and Socrates lowered her to her feet. River circled the broad wooden prep table, checking the floor around it. She bent over to check underneath it.
“He’s gone,” she said.
“He must have wandered off,” said Socrates.
“But he was here… he was asleep.”
The ape frowned. “Are you certain? Are you sure that it wasn’t just another hallucination?”
River’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t even remember how I got here. We were all walking through town, and then… I think we were attacked, but I may have dreamed it.”
“I have seen numerous crewmembers behaving erratically, but I have yet to see any actual attackers.”
“I must have imagined all of it, then. It all seemed so real. Rutherford, the Sentinel…” She turned her head to look at him. “Why did I see those things?”
“That’s the nature of a hallucination. The images stem from the individual, based on his perceptions, biases, and experiences.”
“Or fears,” River said.
“Exactly. At any rate, your respirator proves that the fog’s effects are only temporary. The sun will be up in a few hours. The days are longer at this latitude, so at least we have that in our favor.”
“How so?”
He stepped through the door, and River followed him out into the street. It was still dark and the fog was just as dense as before. The moisture quickly formed a haze on the lenses of her mask, and River used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe it away.
“The sun burns the fog off during the day,” Socrates explained. “The particles evaporate. They expand due the heat, and rise to a higher level in the atmosphere.”
“That’s why it didn’t effect us when we first got here.”
“The fog doesn’t settle back down to the ground until the air cools, as we witnessed tonight. As soon as the sun comes up, we need to locate the source of that fog.”
“The dragon’s breath,” River said. “That’s what the old woman meant. She was trying to warn us about the fog.”
“I believe you are correct. I suspect she thought we were hallucinations, at least in the beginning.”
“That explains her behavior,” said River. “She wasn’t crazy after all.”
“I wouldn’t say that. The effects of starfall are cumulative.”
River looked at him. “Starfall? Is that what’s causing all of this?”
“I’ll run tests to confirm my suspicions later.”
“Have you seen this happen before? Have you seen people driven mad by starfall?”
“What do you think happened in Sanctuary?” Socrates said. “Exposure to the element not only drove men mad, it contaminated their genetic code. Even those who escaped were still changed.”
“Like the Tal’mar and the Kanters.”
“Indeed.”
As they turned the corner and caught sight of the
Iron Horse up ahead, an arrow whooshed by River’s shoulder and threw up sparks as it struck the paving stones next to her. She spun around, reaching for her revolver. The street behind them was empty, but a movement in the corner of her eye drew her gaze to the rooftops. Kynan and Tasha stood atop a nearby building with their bows drawn.
“Take that, lizard man!” Tasha shouted.
River glanced at Socrates and then back at the two Tal’mar. She holstered her firearm and held her hands in the air. “Don’t shoot,” she said. “We’re friends.”
“Oh, really?” said Kynan. “You can’t fool me, snake-breath.” He released another arrow. Socrates stepped forward, shielding River with his body. The arrow struck his chest, piercing the leathery flesh, and then clanged against the steel inside. It clattered to the ground.
“Calm yourselves!” Socrates shouted. “What you believe you’re seeing is not real.”
They looked at each other and started laughing.
“They’ve lost their minds,” River said. “What can we do?”
“We’ll have to leave them for now. I don’t believe they are in any danger. Head for the train. I will cover your escape.”
River started backing away. The Tal’mar took two more shots as they made their retreat. The first arrow struck Socrates on the shoulder. It penetrated his leathery flesh and stuck there. Thankfully, the second arrow flew harmlessly over their heads. They hurried up the ramp to the depot and stepped onto the catwalk at the front of the first passenger car. The sky to the east was growing light, but more than an hour remained until dawn. Inside, River attempted to remove the arrow stuck in the ape’s shoulder.
“It’s caught between the gears,” she said. “Lift your arm, just a little.”
Socrates did, and there was a sound of wood cracking.
“Good, now extend it backwards,” she said. She twisted on the shaft as Socrates lowered his arm, and the arrow pulled free. River held it up so he could see the mangled tip.
The Dragon's Breath (Aboard the Great Iron Horse Book 3) Page 6