by Kyra Dune
Pytaki started toward the bed, then hesitated, glancing toward Alansa. “What’s wrong with her?”
Alansa smiled. “Nothing you and a little rest can’t fix.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the bed. Her eyes met Micayta’s. “You aren’t dreaming, I promise.”
Pytaki knelt beside the bed and if Micayta could have moved she would have grabbed hold of him and never let go.
As it was, all she could manage was to move her hand over his. But for the moment, that was enough.
Chapter Thirty-One
Micayta sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at the small gray stone in her hand. Hours had passed since she’d first woken and there had been little talking during that time as her body worked to gain control over itself. She was still stiff and sore, but feeling enough of her old self to be ready for some answers.
“Where did you get this?” she asked her brother.
Pytaki stared at the floor. “From Tech. H-he gave it to me before we left the house to go back to the tavern. He told me to keep it and give it to you when I thought you needed it, but not to tell you where I got it.” He looked up at her. “I’m sorry, but he said it would protect you and he was afraid you wouldn’t take it if you knew it was from him.”
Micayta sighed. “He was right.” She reached out and took hold of her brother’s hand. “It’s okay. I think this thing might have saved my life.” She ran her finger across the smooth stone. “What I can’t figure is how you managed to escape the tavern during the fire. What happened?”
“It wasn’t real.”
Micayta lifted her head and met Tech’s eyes. He was standing in the doorway, watching them. She hadn’t even heard him come in.
“The fire was a trick, a minor spell,” Tech said. “I knew your brother was safe, but I couldn’t tell you. Not with Demos listening.”
“You knew what he was up to. That’s why you gave Pytaki…” She looked at the stone, a tiny suspicion blooming. “The sphere.”
He nodded and the tiny stone in her hand became the sphere once more, cool and gently glowing blue. “I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen,” he said, “but I knew Demos was getting nervous and that things could get dangerous.”
“And what if Py hadn’t given it to me, or I’d refused to take it?”
“I would have thought of something else.”
“How would you have known?”
“After you left to go see Jaysir, I went to the tavern to check on your brother and make sure you had the sphere with you.”
“Did you?” She glanced at Pytaki, who blushed and looked at his shoes. “I guess it’s a good thing nobody ever listens to me.” Pytaki lifted his head and grinned at her, a smile she wholeheartedly returned before giving her attention back to Tech.
“So why did you do it? Why give the sphere back?”
Tech met her gaze. “For the same reason I interfered with you taking the sphere and before that, with the baguar, even those men back in the hills. You probably could have handled all of it on your own, you’re strong enough, but I couldn’t take the risk. I couldn’t let you die.”
A warm feeling spread through Micayta as she looked into his eyes, a feeling she’d been fighting for a long time. “Well, all right then.” She looked first at her brother, then at Alansa, then at the three of them as a group. “Let’s go kill us a dragon.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Are you sure you want to do it this way?” Tech glanced toward Pytaki, who was perched on the edge of the well. “I can’t promise you nothing bad will happen.”
Micayta looked at her brother, who was staring up at the sky as the last clouds drifted away and the first stars began to show. “Bad things might happen. I get that. I hope we can all get through this alive, but I guess so long as we stop Demos, it doesn’t really matter.”
“It matters,” Tech said, his gray eyes soft. “Micayta, I–”
“So,” she brushed past him, pretending not to know what he was about to say, and strode over to Pytaki, “I guess we all know what we’re supposed to do, right?”
Pytaki nodded, biting his lip. “Are you sure this is going to work?”
“Absolutely.” Micayta laid her hand on his shoulder. “By this time tomorrow, we’ll be heroes.” Dead heroes most likely but she wouldn’t say that to him.
Pytaki smiled and seemed to take courage from her words, which was all she’d intended anyway. She wanted to hold him and tell him that she loved him, in case there wasn’t another chance. But that would have frightened him and so she only squeezed his shoulder then turned back toward Tech.
“Is Alansa in place?”
Tech nodded, his eyes telling her clearly there was so much more he would like to say. And, surprisingly, she would have liked to hear it. But this was neither the time nor the place and the last thing she needed was more on her mind than she already had.
“And you’re sure Demos is coming?” she asked.
“I left him an invitation he can’t possibly ignore.” A smile played about his lips.
She’d have liked to hear about that, too, but there was no time and still she hesitated, unwilling to leave these two who meant so much to her a moment sooner than she had to.
“Go on,” Tech said. “I’ll do everything I can to keep your brother safe. Trust me.”
Micayta smiled. “I do.” She stepped up on her toes and brushed a kiss across his cheek, then turned and jogged toward her hiding place behind a nearby building.
New District was silent and still beneath the increasing darkness. Silver moonlight illuminated the area where the well sat. Micayta pressed her back against the building and slid her hand into her pocket to feel the reassuring presence of the sphere. One drop of blood was all it would take and this whole thing would be over.
Demos strode down the center street, stopping a little further from the well than Micayta would have liked. Pytaki stood up on the rim of the well, making himself much too clear a target. She expected this, but it still knotted her stomach to watch him do it.
“My, this is all so unexpected,” Demos said. “I would have thought you’d fold over once your lovely sister was dead. It seems I underestimated you, boy.” His black gaze flicked toward Tech. “And you, my faithful servant, you betray me? I’m crushed.”
Micayta slid her dagger from its sheath. Something in Demos’ tone made her tense. There was that familiar hint of humor with no sign of anger or surprise at what was going on.
“It’s over, Demos,” Tech said. “I’m not going to let you do this again.”
“Is that right?” Amusement danced in Demos’ eyes. “You expect to stop me now when you couldn’t before? You couldn’t even save your own brother, yet you expect to save this entire world? I think you’ve overstepped yourself.”
“We’ll see.”
Micayta glanced toward the alley across the way, where Alansa should be coming out at any moment, a fake sphere in hand. Between the three of them, they were to keep Demos occupied while Micayta slipped up behind him with the real sphere. A nice, easy plan, little chance of anyone getting hurt. Or so she’d convinced herself when they were working it all out back at the house.
There was movement in the alleyway and someone did step out into street but it wasn’t Alansa. Jaysir smiled at Tech, wiping the blade of his dagger on the white scarf Alansa had used to bind up her hair. “Expecting someone else?”
Tech tensed, clenching his hands, and even from her hiding place Micayta could see the fire dance in his eyes. But he kept it cool as he looked back at Demos. “So you have us all figured out then? Doesn’t matter. You’re still finished.”
“I think not.” Demos’ gaze swept the surrounding darkness. “You can come out now. I know you’re alive. Come out, and we can still make a deal.” He waited and when there was no reply, he smiled. “My earlier offer still stands, for both you and your brother. Tech has to die, of course, but that should mean nothing to you. Come out now, o
r else I will kill your brother as well and this time it will be no illusion.”
Micayta held to her position, though every fiber in her body wanted to run out into that clearing. But that was her heart talking and, as always, her mind was louder. He’d kill them all now; she knew that. There was nothing else he could do. If they had to die at least she could make it mean something. She could stop him from visiting his special brand of misery on anyone else.
The silence stretched on a long moment before Demos broke it. “It seems your sister is abandoning you to your fate, boy. I think I like her better with every passing moment.”
“You’ll like her much less when she’s slitting your throat,” Tech said.
Demos laughed. “You’ve become more trouble than you’re worth and I grow tired of you.” A ball of flame materialized in his hand. It burned brightly for a second, then started to sputter, growing weaker until it had sparked out of existence. Demos stared at his empty hand with that smile frozen on his face.
“What’s the matter, Demos, misplace something important?” Tech asked, smiling. “Seems you aren’t so different from us lesser beings after all. You too are guilty of being ruled by emotion. Your arrogance will be your downfall.”
Demos met Tech’s gaze, his eyes filled with a dark shine. “With or without the sphere, it matters little. I am still stronger and smarter than the lot of you combined. You are all going to die.”
“Maybe you’ll kill me and Pytaki, but you won’t live to gloat over the fact. We may not be a match for you, but she is. She was stronger than you without the sphere and now that she has it, you don’t stand a chance.”
Micayta was watching all of this, hoping for a chance to slip out, to move in for the kill before it was too late. But then something happened that took away any chance she had. Maybe Tech and Demos could read each other’s minds, or maybe it was only that they could each see the intent in the other’s eyes, either way, they both became dragons at the exact same moment.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tech shot straight up into the sky, his ebony scales a dark mark against the stars. Demos reared his head back and roared. At more than double the size of Tech in dragon form, Demos took up nearly the entire clearing, his wings brushing the sides of the nearest buildings.
Demos let loose a blast of fire, which Tech easily dodged. He came back with a shot of acid that sizzled as it struck Demos in the shoulder. With a bellow of rage, Demos attempted to lift himself from the ground, but there simply wasn’t enough room and all he could manage was to stir up a cloud of dust.
Tech circled overhead, working to keep his distance from the snapping jaws and blasts of fire. Micayta watched them, her heart beating heavily in her chest. If only Tech could keep Demos distracted long enough, she could get her drop of blood and end this. There was only one problem, a rather large problem that hadn’t occurred to either one of them before. How was her small, rather worn dagger, supposed to cut through dragon scales?
The question rang through Micayta’s mind as she stared at the crimson scales so tantalizingly close. She might be able to get in near his feet and strike, but where? A shout drew her attention away from the battling dragons before she could make up her mind. She looked up in time to see her brother run down a side street with Jaysir quick behind him.
Micayta only hesitated a moment before chasing after them. For what was the point in saving the world if she lost her brother?
With every step her heartbeat quickened as much from fear as exertion. If she couldn’t catch them, if she was too late…but no, she couldn’t be, wouldn’t be. She pushed herself harder, determined to reach them in time.
She reached the dead end only seconds after they did. Pytaki was backed up against a tall wooden fence, Jaysir advancing on him, dagger drawn.
With all her attention on Jaysir, Micayta didn’t see the trash barrel until she had collided with it. The barrel toppled over with a clatter, spilling its contents across the thin layer of snow that coated the street.
Micayta hit the ground and slid, dropping her dagger as the wind was momentarily knocked from her lungs. She was up in an instant, but it wasn’t fast enough. Jaysir leapt at her, his dagger aimed for her face. Micayta managed to catch hold of his wrist and they hit the ground together, taking a brief tumble before landing with Jaysir atop Micayta. He straddled her waist as he tried to drive the dagger into her eye.
Using both hands, she managed to hold him back, but bit by bit, inch by agonizing inch, the blade drew closer. Micayta was strong from years spent doing manual labor while Jaysir was doing little more than sitting behind a desk or parading himself up and down the street. But she was winded, and he had the advantage of laying his full weight against her hands.
Jaysir gasped, his eyes going wide, and Micayta turned her head as the dagger fell from his limp hand. She felt a sting as the blade nicked her cheek. With a great shove, she pushed Jaysir’s body away, and looked up at her brother. He was staring down at her, his face pale, her dagger in his hand.
Micayta pushed herself to her feet and gently took the dagger from her brother. “You did a good thing, Py. He was going to kill me.”
Pytaki nodded, swallowed, then turned his back on Jaysir. Micayta forced herself to kneel beside his body, checking his throat for a pulse. She wanted to make sure he was dead this time.
He was.
Micayta stood, shivering as a chill wind blasted down the alley and stirred the spilt trash. “We better–” Her words were cut off by a shriek, followed by a ground shaking crash. She and Pytaki exchanged a look. “Tech.”
Together they ran back toward the square. Slowing as they neared the end of the street, Micayta held out a hand to keep her brother back. Tech lay in the ruins of a building on the far side of the square, struggling to regain his feet. Demos towered over him, seeming to enjoy taking his time to finish the smaller dragon off.
Micayta had an idea now, one she needed to move on quickly. She unclasped her cloak and let it fall aside, then removed her gloves. With the dagger in one hand, she started toward the dragons.
“What are you doing?” Pytaki grabbed her sleeve. “You can’t. You’ll be killed. We need to run or-or something.”
She turned around, laying a hand on his shoulder and looking him straight in the eye. “I love you, little brother, and I would never leave you to chase after my own dreams. I hope you know that.”
He frowned. “What are you–”
“Hush, listen to me.” She squeezed his shoulder. “People lie because they’re selfish, or ashamed, or hurt. But don’t you make my mistakes. Don’t forget that people can surprise you, if you let them.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew the sphere.
“If I don’t make it through this–I said hush–if I don’t make it, if I can’t kill Demos, you have to do whatever it takes to make sure he doesn’t get the sphere back. Whatever it takes. Nothing else matters.”
She could see the tears in her brother’s eyes and so, before he could say something that might sway her resolve, she turned and ran into the square.
Micayta made no effort to silence her footsteps as she dodged debris in a mad dash toward Demos. She wanted him to look, wanted his attention. Needed it in fact, if there was any hope of her plan working.
Demos’ head swiveled in her direction. Micayta flattened herself to the cold ground as a blast of fire rushed overhead, so close she could feel the heat. Her heart was racing madly, but there was no time to hesitate, no time to think. She was back on her feet and running again, even as Demos lowered his head, his throat beginning to expand as he prepared a second blast.
Micayta skidded to a halt as near to the dragon as she dared get, then pulled back her arm and threw. The dagger flipped end over end through the air, time seeming to slow and expand and focus on that small blade as it flew toward Demos.
The blade struck true and buried itself hilt deep in Demos’s right eye. He reared back, roaring, sending his fire into the sky rather than
at Micayta. He shook his head, but the dagger must have been stuck fast, because it didn’t budge. Reaching up with his front leg, he plucked the dagger from his eye. It looked no bigger than a splinter there between the dragon’s massive claws.
With a snort born more of annoyance than pain, Demos let the dagger fall. Micayta’s eyes tracked it as it plunged toward the ground, and then she was running again, straight toward Demos, desperate to reach the dagger and what she hoped to find on its blade.
The dagger clattered to the ground, bouncing once before it skittered to a halt beside Demos’ left foot. Micayta lunged for it, blind to everything else, and barely had her fingers wrapped around the worn hilt, when Demos brought his foot up. It connected with her chest and flung her into the air.
She flew across the square and hit the side of a building with a breathtaking jolt, then fell into a packed snowbank. White powder puffed up all around her as stars danced across her vision. There was a crash, followed by a roar as Demos endeavored to reach her.
Hearing Pytaki calling her name, Micayta tried to answer back, though she didn’t know what she meant to say. All that came out was an incoherent mumble. Everything was fuzzy and she felt detached, as if she were pulling away from herself.
“Micayta? Micayta, get up.” Pytaki looked over his shoulder, then back down at her. “You have to get up. Come on.” He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled, trying to get her on her feet.
The blade of the dagger caught the moonlight and glinted silver, except in one small, dark place. Reality seemed to collapse down to that single drop of blood, everything else dimmed. Pytaki’s frantic cries, the harsh shriek of the wind, the sound of Demos smashing a building to bits so that he could move in their direction, it all faded.
Micayta raised her left hand, which was now surrounded by a bluish glow, and brought the sphere up to touch the blade of her dagger. There was a blinding flash of white light and a tremor so fierce it seemed certain to shake the world to pieces. Then darkness.