Dragon Venom (Obsidian Chronicles Book 3)

by Lawrence Watt-Evans

  Despite their choice of residence, they did not eat or drink; like dragons, they apparently subsisted entirely on air and magic.

  When a later experiment—one involving Stammer's blood—pro-

  duced another live magical kitten, Arlian delivered the creature to Obsidian House, where Patch took an intense interest in the new arrival, prodding it gently with those unnatural fingers. She did not spit or claw, as she had at the ordinary kittens Arlian had brought in.

  Others were less enthusiastic. Smudge ignored this new kitten entirely—which was a more positive reaction than he had had to the o r d i n a r y o n e s , b a t still n o t especially w e l c o m i n g . K e r z i a a n d A m b e r d i n e w a t c h e d i t warily f r o m a s a f e d i s t a n c e ; D i r i n a n r e f u s e d t o b e i n t h e s a m e r o o m w i t h it, s h r i e k i n g a t t h e s i g h t o f i t S t a m m e r r e l u c t a n t l y a c c e p t e d r e s p o n s i b i l i t y f o r its c a r e , a n d n a m e d i t B e e w h e n i t m a n a g e d a f a i n t b u z z i n g p u r r a s i t lay c u r l e d i n h e r h a n d s .

  " H o w . . . h o w m . . . h o w m a n y m o r e ? " s h e a s k e d , a s s h e c a u t i o u s l y p e t t e d t h e k i t t e n .

  " I d o n ' t k n o w , " A r l i a n said, g l a n c i n g a t P a t c h . " I ' m t r y i n g t o u n d e r -

  s t a n d w h y t h e s e c r e a t u r e s a r e a s t h e y are, a n d I d o n ' t k n o w y e t w h a t I n e e d t o k n o w . "

  P a t c h t u r n e d h e r h e a d t o s t a r e a t h i m .

  Don't you?

  " N o , I d o n ' t , " A r l i a n said, g l a r i n g a t t h e c r e a t u r e .

  S t a m m e r was s t a r i n g a t h e r a s well. " I t s p o k e , " s h e s a i d .

  " I k n o w , " A r l i a n said. H e l o o k e d f r o m t h e c a t - t h i n g t o t h e n e w b o r n k i t t e n , t h e n a t S t a m m e r a n d a t t h e t w o g i r l s s t a n d i n g a s a f e d i s t a n c e away. " T h e y c a n d o t h a t . "

  " T h e y c a n ? " K e r z i a said.

  " W h a t else c a n t h e y d o ? " A m b e r d i n e a s k e d . " T h e y ' r e m a g i c , a r e n ' t t h e y ? C a n t h e y w o r k spells o r g l a m o u r s ? "

  " I d o n ' t k n o w , " A r l i a n said. H e l o o k e d d o w n a t B e e , f r o w n i n g — i t s e e m e d s u c h a s m a l l , h e l p l e s s t h i n g t o b e t h e r e s u l t o f s o m u c h e f f o r t a n d b l o o d , a n d t o b e a p o s s i b l e h o p e a g a i n s t t h e d r a g o n s .

  P a t c h still c r o u c h e d a t t h e e d g e o f his field o f v i s i o n ; s h e w a s a l r e a d y a t least t h r e e t i m e s B e e ' s size, a n d f a r m o r e f o r m i d a b l e . P e r h a p s t h e h o p e w a s real, A r l i a n t h o u g h t — b u t h e w a s n o t h a p p y a t t h e f o r m i t t o o k . P a t c h a n d S m u d g e h a d n e v e r d o n e a n y t h i n g o b v i o u s l y m a l i c i o u s o r i n t e n t i o n a l l y c r u e l o r d e s t r u c t i v e , b u t A r l i a n c o u l d n o t d e n y t h a t t h e c r e a t u r e s m a d e h i m u n c o m f o r t a b l e . T h e y w e r e s o v e r y u n n a t u r a l , s o m y s t e r i o u s — t h e y c o u l d c o m m u n i c a t e , b u t d i d s o o n l y v e r y r a r e l y , s o rarely t h a t B l a c k ' s c h i l d r e n h a d n o t k n o w n t h e a b i l i t y e x i s t e d . A r l i a n h a d n o t realized t h e i r w o r d s w e r e t h a t r a r e ; h e h a d a t t e m p t e d t o c o n v e r s e w i t h t h e m a f e w t i m e s , w i t h l i t d e r e s u l t . T h e y n e v e r said m u c h , a n d n e v e r a n s w e r e d his q u e s t i o n s w h e n h e a s k e d w h e t h e r t h e y k n e w a n y -

  t h i n g o f t h e i r o w n n a t u r e .

  T h e p o s s i b i l i t y t h a t t h e k i t t e n - t h i n g s m i g h t p r o v e a s u n a c c e p t a b l e i n t h e i r o w n w a y a s t h e d r a g o n s h a d c r o s s e d h i s m i n d , b u t h e h a d dism i s s e d it- T h e y w e r e n e w a n d s t r a n g e , a n d v e r y y o u n g , t h a t w a s all; w h e n t h e y h a d m a t u r e d a n d l e a r n e d a l i t t l e m o r e t h e r e w o u l d b e t i m e t o i n s i s t o n a n s w e r s t o h i s q u e s t i o n s .

  H e r o s e . " I h a v e m o r e e x p e r i m e n t s t o c o n d u c t , " h e s a i d , a s h e t u r n e d a n d m a r c h e d o u t . H a l f a n h o u r l a t e r h e w a s b a c k a t t h e G r e y H o u s e , g o i n g o v e r h i s n o t e s a n d t r y i n g t o i g n o r e t h e l i n g e r i n g s t e n c h o f o r d u r e a n d d e a t h t h a t h u n g o v e r h i s w o r k a r e a d e s p i t e h i s b e s t e f f o r t s a t c l e a n i n g a n d a i r i n g .

  F o r h i s n e x t p l a n n e d t r i a l h e i n t e n d e d t o c o m b i n e h u m a n b l o o d , p i g ' s b l o o d , a n d v e n o m a n d s e e w h e t h e r t h e k i t t e n t o o k o n a n y p o r c i n e c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s . H e h a d a s e a l e d jar o f W a l t ' s b l o o d a n d a n o t h e r o f p i g s b l o o d o n h a n d , a n d h i s t w o b o t t l e s o f v e n o m — t h o u g h t h e b r o w n o n e w a s n o w m o s t l y e m p t y . H e m a d e h i s p r e p a r a t i o n s , k e e p i n g a c a r e f u l w a t c h o n t h e c a t s h e h a d c a g e d a n d w a i t i n g .

  I t w a s p a s t m i d n i g h t , a n d h e w a s d o z i n g i n h i s c h a i r , w h e n s o m e -

  t h i n g w o k e h i m ; h e t u r n e d t o s e e t h a t h i s m i d d l e c a t w a s l a b o r i n g .

  H e s n a t c h e d u p h i s w a i t i n g vial a t e l i x i r a n d o p e n e d t h e c a g e — t h e n b e c a m e a w a r e t h a t s o m e t h i n g w a s w a t c h i n g h i m , s o m e t h i n g o t h e r t h a n t h e t h r e e c a t s . H e t u r n e d .

  P a t c h w a s c r o u c h e d o n h e r h a u n c h e s i n t h e c o r n e r o f t h e r o o m , h e r f o r e p a w - h a n d s f o l d e d b e n e a t h h e r c h i n , s t a r i n g i n t e n t l y u p a t h i m .

  " H o w d i d y o u g e t h e r e ? " A r l i a n s a i d , a s h e u n c o r k e d t h e vial.

  F o l l o w e d y o u , c a m e t h e r e p l y .

  T h e n t h e s t r u g g l i n g o f t h e m o t h e r - t o - b e d i s t r a c t e d h i m , a n d h e t u r n e d h i s a t t e n t i o n t o t h e a r r i v a l o f t h e f i r s t k i t t e n . W h e n i t w a s d o n e a n d s a f e , A r l i a n g r a b b e d t h e m o t h e r ' s h e a d a n d f o r c e d h e r m o u t h o p e n .

  Stop, P a t c h s a i d .

  A r l i a n d i d n o t s t o p ; h e e m p t i e d h i s p r e p a r a t i o n i n t o t h e t h r a s h i n g a n i m a l . T h a t d o n e , h e t o s s e d h i s f e e d i n g vial a s i d e a n d t u r n e d a s t h e m o t h e r b e g a n t o v o m i t H e h a d s e e n t h i s b e f o r e , a n d h a d n o d e s i r e t o w a t c h a n o t h e r d e a t h — b u t t h e p r e s e n c e o f t h e k i t t e n - t h i n g w a s n e w . H e l o o k e d i n t h e c o r n e r .

  P a t c h w a s n o l o n g e r v i s i b l e .

  " W h e r e a r e y o u ? " A r l i a n a s k e d .

  She is dying.

  H e c o u l d n o t l o c a t e t h e s o u r c e o f t h e u n s p o k e n w o r d s . " I k n o w t h a t . "

  You have killed her. Poisoned her.

  "Yes. I am trying to learn how the magic works, so I can take it away from the dragons."

  You killed our mother this way then?

  "Yes." He hesitated, then added, "I'm sorry."

  You say you are sorry, yet you do it again.

  "Yes. I need to know, to understand."

  Why?

  "You would not understand; you don't know enough of the world."

  I may know more than you think. Answer me—why do you need to know?

  "So I can destroy the dragons without unleashing wild magic on the Lands of Man."

  You wish to destroy?

  "Only the dragons. To save innocent lives."

  How is one life better than another? Why should the dragons die, rather than those you call innocents?

  "The dragons kill people."

  You kill.

  " B u t . . . it's not the
same. I kill only for important purposes. The dragons kill because they enjoy it. They slaughtered my family on a whim. I must destroy them so they cannot kill others as they did my parents."

  You killed our mother, and are still killing. Must we destroy you, then?

  "I killed your mother to create you! To make something that could contain the dragons' magic without becoming a dragon."

  I do not know what a dragon is. What do dragons have to do with cats?

  "Nothing." He remembered all the failed experiments with blood other than human; whatever the connection between men and dragons might be, cats did not share it. "Cats were just convenient." He stared into the dim corners of the room, trying to locate the little creature; behind him the dying cat gave a final heave, and expelled a second and final kitten.

  If you seek allies in your battle with these dragons, should you not find ones you can recruit without killing their parents? You slew my mother—do you think I should help you, when you have done this to me? Blue eyes appeared in the gloom, staring at him.

  "I didn't know it would kill her, at first," Arlian said. "I was trying to find a mixture that would transfer the magic without harming anything."

  The eyes vanished. You know now, yet you have just killed another cat. If you want allies, find something that your poison won't kill.

  "I tried," Arlian said. The cat-thing had made no threats, nor was the tone of its unspoken voice noticeably angry, but Arlian's hand had fallen to the hilt of his sword.

  Did you? And you found none?

  Arlian did not answer; instead he turned at a flash of movement.

  The second kitten had been born as its mother died—and now tiny hands gripped its head and twisted, displaying far more strength than any creature so young should possess, and fangs flashed as they plunged into the mewling little thing's throat. An instant later the newborn was dead.

  "What are you doing?" Arlian demanded.

  No more, Patch replied, glowering at him as she stood on her hind feet over the dead kitten, the live firstborn squirming blindly a few inches away, groping for its dead mother's breast. You will make no more of us. It held out a handlike fore-paw. Look at this, at what you have done—

  this is not right. I am neither feline nor human.

  "Indeed you are not," Arlian agreed. "You are more than either, a product of this land's magic. Where is the wrong in that?"

  You killed my mother to make me what I am; is that not wrong enough?

  "Dragons are born of death; the wizards and monsters of the south, too."

  And did you not seek something better?

  "I seek an alternative, yes—and you are a possible alternative."

  I am a monstrosity. I forbid you to create more.

  "Forbid? You are a kitten, scarcely larger than my hand—how do you think to argue with a grown man, and one possessing the heart of the dragon?"

  I am, as you have just said, an embodiment of the land's magic—and these are the Lands of Man, the Dragon Lands, not the kingdom of the cats. There are greater powers here, and for the moment I give them voice, and in that voice I tell you, kill no more beasts in your foul experiments.

  "I will do as I must," Arlian said angrily.

  The cat-thing did not reply, but instead leapt at him, tiny fingers outstretched, in a leap that should have been impossible for so small a creature.

  Arlian easily knocked her aside, but she vanished before she struck the floor. Arlian blinked, and drew his sword. Clearly, the experiment called Patch was not a success, and would have to be destroyed before she killed anything else as she had the newborn kitten.

  Fangs suddenly buried themselves in his calf; he twisted, and saw the cat-thing behind him, its teeth sunk into his flesh through his trouser leg. He did not brush it away, though; instead he took careful aim and plunged his sword's point toward its tiny heart.

  The blade skidded across the thin fur as if he had struck at granite.

  Arlian had seen that happen before, long ago, in a cave beneath the Desolation, when he broke two blades on a newborn dragon. "Damn,"

  he said. He tossed the sword to his left hand, then reached down to grab the creature.

  She released her hold and danced aside, vanishing again the

  moment she reached a shadow.

  This was ludicrous, Arlian thought as he straightened and sheathed his sword. He stared into the shadows, but could not see Patch anywhere. Obviously, her magic enabled her to hide preternaturally well—

  an amplification, perhaps, of a cat's natural talents.

  The sword had not touched her, any more than ordinary steel could harm a dragon; Arlian had half expected that, and had come prepared when conducting his experiments. He reached into his coat and pulled out an obsidian dagger.

  "Patch," he called, "where are you?"

  She did not reply—but he heard a crash, and whirled.

  The almost-empty brown bottle of venom had been knocked from

  the table and smashed on the stone floor; foul vapor was swirling up from the scattered shards. Patch was on the table, looking up at the still-full blue bottle on a nearby shelf.

  "Damn!" Arlian said again, lunging for the kitten-creature.

  Patch leapt, an impossible monkeylike leap that left her hanging by her fingertips from the shelf, her toes scrabbling at empty air.

  Arlian ran, and grabbed the blue bottle before Patch could pull herself up; then he stepped back, bottle in one hand and stone dagger in the other, and watched as the kitten dropped to the floor, righted herself, and turned to face him.

  "I will not take orders from a kitten," Arlian growled.

  Patch charged.

  The dash at his legs was so unexpected he almost dropped the bottle to fend off the attack, but he caught himself at the last instant. He let her lock her fingers around his ankle and sink her fangs into him once again. Then he bent down and stabbed at her with the obsidian dagger.

  To his astonishment, it was no more effective than his steel had been; the needle-sharp point slid and skipped across her fur without piercing. Those blue eyes glared up at him, and then she began climbing.

  He dropped the dagger, raised the blue bottle above his head with his left hand, and looked about for a weapon. He remembered Black's suggestion that it might take six hundred years to find a way to kill the kittens—but Patch had killed the newborn with nothing but her own paws and fangs.

  That was presumably a part of her magic.

  He grabbed Patch by the throat and pulled her free of his trousers; she squirmed wildly, flexing and twisting in his grip. He squeezed, unconcerned with whether or not he harmed her, as he would never have done with any ordinary kitten.

  She did not seem to be bothered by the pressure on her throat; her gyrations did not slacken in the least.

  While holding the cat-thing at arm's length, he set the bottle carefully on the table; then he took a firm grip with both hands and tried to wring Patch's neck as she thrashed and clawed at him.

  He could not do it. Even his full strength was not enough to snap the little creature's spine. The best he could do was hold her relatively still.

  He held her at arm's length again, and stared at her, trying to think what he could do, as she struggled desperately. It was probably too late to try to calm her or bargain with her, and killing her . . .

  Well, steel and strength and obsidian had failed, but there were other possibilities. He looked down at the floor, where spatters of venom had eaten holes into the slate. He knelt, and shoved the kitten's face into the smear of venom that had collected in one such hole.

  There was no effect; she continued to struggle and squirm as

  strongly as before.

  That was interesting, that his new creation should be immune to the dragon's poison; venom was the one toxin that could scar, sicken, or kill a dragonheart.

  But of course, it did not trouble the dragons themselves. By analogy, then, Patch's kind were not mere ambulatory incubators that
would someday spawn new magical creatures, like dragonhearts, but were themselves, like dragons, the magical end-product.

  Neither iron nor obsidian nor venom . . .

  Still clutching the struggling cat-thing, Arlian made his way out through the servants' entry-way to the carriage house, where his trader's wagon still stood; he had never bothered to empty it completely after returning from the Borderlands. Now he climbed up into it, pressed Patch down solidly onto the bench where she could be secured with one hand, and groped inside with the other.

  A moment later he held up what he sought—a silver dagger.

  Patch stopped struggling.

  Strike, then, she said.

  He struck.

  38

  An Audacious Proposal

  An Audacious Proposal

  Arlian disposed of Patch's remains, and the other corpses produced by the night's experiments, in the ash pit where he had disposed of so many others; he observed that Patch had decayed with unnatural speed, like a dragonheart, though not as thoroughly as would a dragon.

  By the time that was done dawn had begun to lighten the eastern sky, and he had a live, normal, but very unhappy kitten to deal with. He wrapped the poor little thing in a warm towel, then set out to bring it to Lady Rime's family.

  As he closed the door of the Grey House behind him the silver dagger was tucked inside his coat, where the obsidian had been before, and the towel-wrapped kitten was cradled in his arms.

  As he attended to these matters, and again as he walked down the still-deserted street, Arlian thought over the night's events and everything Patch had said.

  She had said he should find a species where the elixir would not kill an expectant mother, and of course he did know of one such species, the obvious species for further experimentation—but he had not dared to think of experimenting on humans. The risks and unknowns seemed very high, too high to ask any woman to face, for either herself or her child. In a thousand years of records there were no reports of any pregnant woman surviving a dragon attack or becoming a dragonheart; he could not be sure that the mother would survive, let alone an unborn child.