The Dragon's Breath (Aboard the Great Iron Horse Book 3)

by Jamie Sedgwick

  The instant Burk appeared, River had her revolver in hand. She leveled the sights and was about to squeeze the trigger when Socrates put a hand on her arm.

  “Don’t,” he said. “We are not assassins. There is no honor in killing a madman. Besides, we need to find out what happened on this ship. Burk may have information we can use.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” Thane said. “It looks like he’s lost his mind.”

  “Indeed, but perhaps we can help him find it.”

  “Then what?” said River. “We can’t just let him go!”

  Socrates scanned their faces. “I understand how you all feel. Don’t believe for a second that I’ve forgotten the things Burk did to us. When he is able, he will stand trial. I promise you that. He will be judged fairly and punished swiftly. But for now, we need to capture him alive.”

  “How?” said Vann.

  “I’ll handle it,” Thane said.

  The bard produced a sling from somewhere inside his long coat. He swung it over his head a few times, the leather thong making a quiet whoosh-whoosh as it circled. He released the strap and the stone whistled as it flew out of the pouch. It almost instantaneously struck Burk right in the center of the forehead. The large man reeled, swaying side to side, shaking his head in confusion. He slapped at the wound as if it were a bee stinging his forehead, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he tumbled over the edge of the rail. Burk’s limp body struck the mast halfway down, bounced off, and landed awkwardly on the lower rail. An unconscious groan escaped his lips. Socrates gave Thane a dark look.

  “He’s alive,” Thane said cavalierly. “He’ll wish he wasn’t when he wakes up.”

  “I already wish he wasn’t,” said Micah.

  “Now what the devils?” Loren said at the back of the group.

  They turned to see the silver-haired Tal’mar warrior staring out across the northern plains. Several miles distant, they saw a figure on horseback approaching.

  “It’s Elberone!” said Micah. “Maybe he killed the dragon!”

  River glanced around the clearing. “Pirate?” she said. “Pirate!”

  She heard a barking sound back towards the train. The coon came speeding towards them, throwing up a cloud of dust as he ran. Seconds later, he reached River’s feet and sat back on his haunches staring up at her.

  “Scope,” River said.

  Pirate looked at the others. His gaze settled on Vann for a moment, and then returned to River. She frowned down at him.

  “Scope!” she repeated. “Pirate, go get my scope!”

  Pirate snorted. He turned his back to her, waddled over into the shade of the wrecked airship, and yawned lazily as he settled down on a clump of grass. River turned to stare at Vann. The chef took a step back, holding his hands out defensively.

  “I didn’t do it,” he said. “You said no more snacks, so I quit giving him snacks.”

  “Sure you did,” River said sarcastically. “Either way, it doesn’t matter now. You’ve ruined him.”

  “That’s not so!” Vann protested. He walked over to Pirate, knelt down, and picked the coon up. Pirate snuggled into his neck and started to purr like a kitten. “See? He’s friendly as ever.”

  “Friendly and useless,” River snapped. “Not unlike someone else I know…”

  “That’s enough,” said Socrates. He bent down and threw Burk’s unconscious body over his shoulder. The blacksmith was so tall that his hands and feet nearly dragged on the ground, but Socrates didn’t even seem to notice the man’s great weight.

  “I will lock Burk in a secure holding car,” the ape said, turning away. “Scour the wreckage. Look for fuel or anything else useful, and look for a clue as to what Burk has been up to. Let’s move!”

  River selected a handful of people to help her with the search. With the ship lying on its side, this would prove to be a difficult undertaking. She chose Loren for his light weight and Tal’mar athletic ability, and Micah for his small size. This turned out to be a serendipitous decision, as it was Micah who had the discernment to recognize the importance of the documents scattered on the floor near the captain’s quarters.

  River had been siphoning kerosene from the fuel tank when the two of them returned from their first exploration. They appeared at the top of the stairs, grunting and swearing as they dragged a large chest through the opening.

  “What’s in there?” River said. Loren patted the lid.

  “Ten muskets, with powder charges and ammo balls.”

  “Nicely done,” she said. Then she noticed the long knapsack flung over Micah’s shoulder. It was almost as tall as he was.

  “And what is that?” River added, eyeing him.

  “Paper!” Micah said cheerfully. “Nice flat parchment, good maps, and other documents.”

  River rolled her eyes. “I sent you to find things of value, not extra paper for your drawings.”

  “But this stuff is valuable,” Micah said. “The maps alone are worth-”

  “Whatever,” River interrupted. “Throw them in the steamwagon and get that chest down here.”

  In a display of surprising agility, Micah slid down the deck, landed on the handrail, and leapt to the ground in one fluid motion. He tossed the sack into the back of the steamwagon and climbed back up to help Loren wrangle the trunk down. A few minutes later, Kale and Shayla arrived riding on Sir Elberone’s mechanical horse. River heard the mechanized clip-clop approaching and paused in her work as they came around the front of the ship. Her eyes widened as the couple appeared. Kale was dressed in a mismatched suit of armor with a leather chest plate and metal pauldrons and greaves. He wore a two-handed broadsword slung over his shoulder. Shayla sat behind the saddle, holding something large concealed under her cloak.

  “Where have you been?” River said.

  “Killing dragons,” Kale said with a wink.

  “Sure you have,” River said.

  Kale ignored her skepticism. He looked over the wreckage. “What happened?”

  “Burk happened,” said River.

  “He crashed?”

  “He went mad from the dragon’s breath,” Micah said. “He killed his own crew.”

  “Dragon’s breath?” said Shayla. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a long story,” River said. “I’ll explain later. I have to finish this salvage. Is that Sir Elberone’s horse?”

  “It was until he picked a fight with a dragon.”

  “There really is a dragon?” said Micah.

  Kale grinned. “I’ll explain later. Where is Socrates?”

  “On the train. He took Burk captive.”

  “It seems we have a lot of catching up to do.” Kale pulled the reins and nudged the horse into a trot towards the train. River watched them ride away with a frown creasing her features.

  “I wonder what those two have been up to,” Loren said.

  River shook her head and snorted. Loren shot a knowing grin at Micah and they started to laugh. River turned to glare at them, and they went quiet. Micah cleared his throat.

  “I’m sure it was nothing,” he said. “I’m sure they were just… killing dragons… all night.”

  Still glaring, River climbed onto the steamwagon and released the brake. “Keep looking,” she said. “I’m taking these supplies to the train.”

  Chapter 12

  River parked the steamwagon near the armory. She left it there and hurried on foot to the engineering car, where Kale and Shayla were dismounting. River caught up to them as Kale climbed up onto the platform. Shayla let out a delighted squeal as he took her in both hands and effortlessly hoisted her up alongside him. Kale set her on the platform, placing both hands on her hips. Shayla smiled up into his face, her hands still clutching the object hidden within the folds of her cloak.

  Kale turned to offer River a hand, but she ignored it. She climbed the step-rail, glaring at the sinewy warrior all the way up. He gave her a devilish grin and his smoldering blue eyes sparkled with mischief. River s
tepped around him. She opened the door to the Engineering car and stepped inside. The couple followed after her.

  Inside, the noise of the steam-driven pump was deafening. Socrates stood at the far end of the room, manipulating a series of flexible copper and brass hoses he had connected to large steel oxygen tanks mounted on the wall. The ape glanced up as they entered and, when he saw them, he grinned and shouted over the din, “I’m almost done.”

  River studied the gauges on the oxygen tanks. The last one had space for a few more pounds of pressure. The others were full. Altogether, those oxygen tanks contained enough air for the crew to survive three or four weeks without ever leaving the train, even underwater. The Horse’s designers had built the train to withstand travel through the most hostile environments, from the ice-tunnels of the cold north to the undersea journey they had recently taken in the Forgotten Sea. So far, the Horse had performed splendidly. It was the crew that always complicated things.

  Socrates waited for the last gauge to peg and then turned the nozzle, releasing a loud hiss. River helped out by disengaging the gear drive from the steam engine to deactivate the air pump. The flywheel spun a few more revolutions under its own inertia, and then came to a stop. Socrates turned the valve on the line from the burner, releasing the steam engine’s excess pressure. Steam flooded into the room, the hissing sound drowning out everything else. Socrates opened a window to vent the fog, and the noise quickly subsided to the rhythmic kachug-kachug of the steam engine, which in comparison was blissfully quiet. Socrates looked at River.

  “Back from the wreck already?”

  “First load,” River said.

  “I see.” He turned his attention to Kale and Shayla. “We have been worried about the two of you. I hope you didn’t suffer any ill effects from your exposure last night?”

  “Exposure?” said Kale.

  Socrates quickly explained about the hallucinogenic effects of the fog. Kale’s eyes widened as he listened. When Socrates was through, Kale glanced at Shayla.

  “You don’t think it was all a hallucination?” he said.

  “Absolutely not. We have proof of that.”

  River frowned. “What exactly are the two of you talking about?”

  “We should show them,” said Shayla. Kale pulled up the front of his shirt, exposing the long bright red gash across his abdomen. He grinned.

  “What happened to you?” said River.

  Kale’s grin grew even wider. “I killed a dragon,” he said proudly.

  “Just a little one,” Shayla said. Kale snorted.

  “Wait,” Socrates said, touching the wound with a large, leathery finger. “You believe a dragon did that to you?”

  Kale winced. “I don’t believe it,” he said defensively. “I know it, for a fact.”

  “Kale’s injury didn’t happen in the battle,” Shayla explained. “That wound is from being carried in the dragon’s talons. I have a mark like that, too.”

  River looked back and forth between them. “You’re saying a dragon took the two of you? Last night?”

  “That’s exactly what happened,” said Kale. “When I woke up, Sir Elberone was there, but he didn’t last very long. The dragon toasted him like a side of beef.”

  Socrates grimaced. “You must have been hallucinating,” he said.

  “But it’s true!” said Shayla. “Kale killed the dragon with Elberone’s lance. It was lucky he wasn’t burned alive.”

  “Luck had nothing to do with it,” Kale said.

  “I should say not,” said Socrates. “Especially since there is no such thing as a fire-breathing dragon.”

  Kale arched an eyebrow. He nodded at Shayla, who unfolded her cloak to reveal the egg. Kale took it from her and said, “How do you explain this?”

  Socrates stared at the orb for a moment. River reached out to touch it, trailing her fingers across the smooth, dry surface.

  “It feels like glass,” she said. “Is it obsidian?”

  Kale handed it to her, and River turned it in her hands, feeling the object’s weight. “It’s too light to be obsidian or stone,” she said. “And the balance is… uneven. There’s something inside.” She frowned and shook her head as she handed it to Socrates.

  Socrates examined the egg for a moment and then carried it over to one of the worktables. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a device with several mirrors and an array of clear, round lenses attached to rotating mounts.

  “What is that?” River said. “I’ve never seen that before.”

  “It’s a spectrolumiscope,” he said. “It enhances photonic waves for microscopic analysis. I built it for repairing small parts…”

  They all stared at him. Socrates sighed.

  “It refracts and magnifies light,” he said patiently. “Then it magnifies small objects, so they’re easier to see. Like a microscope.”

  Socrates placed the contraption on the workbench and unfolded the arms, aligning the array of lenses. He pushed it back to the edge of the bench, right up to the window, and then placed the egg in the center. He adjusted the mirrors and lenses so that they were all shining through the back of the egg.

  “Pull the shades,” he said.

  They hurried around the room, closing the shades over the other windows. Socrates reached up, lowering the shade behind the egg as far as possible while still allowing light through. Suddenly, the intense beams shining through the lenses became visible. Motes of dust drifted through the beams of concentrated light. The backside of the egg began to glow, and through the front, the image of the embryo inside became visible. They could clearly see the shape of the creature’s skull, ridges of the long curving spine and the tail that curved up around one leg. Shayla gasped, and River caught her breath.

  “Told ya,” Kale said, clamping his hand down on the ape’s shoulder. After a minute of staring at the embryo, Socrates raised his gaze to meet Kale’s.

  “You say this creature can breathe fire?” he said.

  “You don’t have to believe me. Elberone’s corpse is down by the beach, probably still smoking. The dragon’s is there, too.”

  “Show me,” said Socrates. “I need a closer look at this creature.”

  “Wait!” said Shayla. “That’s not all. Tell him, Kale.”

  Kale glanced between River and Socrates. River reached out and pushed him.

  “Spit it out!” she said.

  Kale threw back his shoulders, displaying his barrel-chest. “We found starfall. Lots of it.”

  Chapter 13

  Before leaving, Socrates took a moment to unload the crate from the back of the steamwagon and leave it in the armory. After that, they all climbed aboard with Socrates driving, Shayla riding shotgun, and River and Kale sitting in the back. The steamwagon’s wood and metal wheels threw up sparks as it bounced along the stone terrain at the edge of town.

  The uneven ground provided for a jarring ride, but Socrates seemed to hardly notice his passengers bouncing around, until a particularly brutal impact sent Shayla springing right off the bench seat. Were it not for Kale’s quick reflexes, she probably would have fallen off the steamwagon. He reached out, caught her by the arm, and helped the young woman get settled back into her seat.

  “Forgive me,” Socrates said, slowing way down. “I’m afraid my excitement got the best of me.”

  “I’m fine, thanks to our mighty warrior,” Shayla said, reaching back to pat Kale on the shoulder. Kale beamed. River rolled her eyes.

  The stone landscape gave way to dry, packed earth, and sand dunes rose up on their right, blocking their view of the ocean.

  “Turn right, just up ahead,” Kale said, pointing to a clearing in the sage. Seeing the look on the gorilla’s face, he added, “Don’t worry, it’s an old road. The steamwagon should do just fine.”

  Following the warrior’s instructions, Socrates guided the vehicle over the rise and then down a long slope to a rock-strewn beach. There, he turned onto the ancient brick road Kale had discovered. They al
l marveled at the bizarre statues strewn along the old road as they drove along. Kale pointed out a few that he found particularly interesting.

  “Do you think they were gods?” he said.

  “It is possible,” Socrates said. “Humans have been known to carve likenesses of their deities, but that’s not the only likely explanation. See how they’re lined up along this road? They may have served as a warning to strangers, telling them to disregard the laws of this place at their own peril.”

  “Or a warning about the dragon,” Shayla said.

  “Unfortunately, we may never find out. Judging by the condition of these statues, they must be a few hundred years old. Whatever civilization built them could have died out centuries ago.”

  A few minutes later, they came to a dune that was too deep for the steamwagon to cross. They abandoned the vehicle and continued the rest of the way on foot. As they climbed over the crest, Kale pointed to a large reddish mound in the distance, near the cliffs.

  “There it is!” he said. “That’s the dragon.”

  He broke into a run, and they followed after him. When they reached the site, the first thing Socrates did was to cover Elberone’s body with a sheet he had brought along in his tool kit. Socrates then circled the dragon, examining the creature’s physical characteristics. He studied the scales, the claws, the massive leathery wings, all the while quizzing Kale and Shayla about the creature’s behavior.

  At last, Socrates asked for help prying the dragon’s mouth open. River and Kale held the jaw wide while Socrates propped it open with several strong sticks. He leaned inside and began studying the inside of the creature’s throat and mouth. It didn’t take long to locate the two large glands at the back of the throat. He pressed one of them with his finger and a stream of milky fluid shot right past him and out onto the sand. The fluid instantly caught fire.