Dragon Rigger

by Jeffrey A. Carver

  Her voice seemed to whisper across the gulf of space: Windrush, my friend—be ready for me! Be ready to fly! Above all, believe! The Enemy can still be broken!

  Jael—what can I do?

  Her voice, answering, was drowned out by a much louder cry echoing from the emptiness around him. It was a cry of alarm filtering in from the outer world—a scream of urgency, calling him back. With a gasped, I'll be ready! Call for me! he blinked backward through FullSky's window and emerged from the underrealm.

  * * *

  Around him was chaos: dragon wings beating, flames thundering, and the chilling breath of drahls in the air. Windrush looked around in confusion. He was under attack—still perched on a pinnacle of rock! Half a dozen dragons had come to his defense, but the air was filled with enemy warriors. A cluster of drahls had just evaded his guardians and were diving straight toward him.

  With an explosion of energy, Windrush leaped from the pinnacle and dove under the attacking drahls, forcing them to turn in a tight, fast bank. Windrush doubled back and beat upward, gaining altitude. "SHE LIVES!" he bellowed to the other dragons. "JAEL HAS REACHED THE DREAM MOUNTAIN! SHE LIVES TO FIGHT THE ENEMY!"

  From the dragons rose a murmur of confusion. As a few of the dragons repeated his cry, the encouragement spread in a slow ripple. But the shout had cost Windrush energy that might have gone into speed—and now the drahls were hard on his tail, moving fast. Two shot past him, belching their chill fire; and though he managed to veer away from those two, he could not evade two others who caught him from behind, one landing on his shoulders and the other seizing his hindquarters. He roared out as their talons gripped him. He knew in an instant that he was caught, and he could feel their claws probing for entry. "Damn you!" he hissed, shaking violently—and through the pain, he bellowed out: "FOLLOW JAEL WHEN SHE CALLS! YOU MUST BELIEVE—!" and then his breath gasped out as the drahls' talons found a nerve.

  He heard a shattering battle cry, and a wave of heat hit him from above. He nearly lost consciousness as dragon flame billowed over his head. But the two drahls fell away, burning, and as he veered to freedom, he struggled to clear his mind from the pain and heat, and he peered back up through the smoke to see who had saved him. "SearSky—!" he cried raggedly, seeing the black dragon emerge from a ring of fire. Windrush tried to cry out his thanks, but he could scarcely breathe.

  He realized with sudden horror that SearSky was battling for his own life now, with a cluster of drahls fastened to his back. SearSky must have dived straight through those drahls to save Windrush. Now he bellowed with pain, his flame crackling uselessly, unable to reach the drahls.

  "SearSky . . . help SearSky! Needs . . . help!" Windrush gasped, trying to wheel and climb to the warrior's aid. But he could not move fast enough; he was still afire with pain.

  SearSky's coal-red eyes blazed through the flurry of wings and freezing fire, and he roared out, his voice razor-sharp with agony, "Windrush, you cannot—you must—lead the others! Find—your friend Jael—and—!"

  Two other dragons had broken to SearSky's aid—but they were too late, all of them. The light in SearSky's eyes flickered and went out, and the black dragon fell from among the drahls, turning from obsidian to clear glass and vanishing before he hit the rocks below. "SearSky!" Windrush cried hoarsely, circling in disbelief.

  "Windrush, talk to me!" he heard, as another dragon sped to his side, silver eyes gleaming.

  "Farsight! SearSky just saved—"

  "I saw! I could not come in time." Farsight's eyes blazed with regret. "What did you say about Jael? We heard you cry out!"

  Windrush exhaled a sharp-tongued flame as he felt a rush of hope again. "She lives!" he gasped. "In the Dream Mountain! Let all the dragons know—we are not alone—we are not fighting alone!"

  Farsight's cry was a trumpet blast that echoed across the vale. "DRAGONS! THE RIGGER JAEL LIVES AND FIGHTS IN THE DREAM MOUNTAIN! DO NOT DESERT HER, OR THE DRACONAE! PRESS THE BATTLE!" The effect of his cry was like a bolt of lightning. The dragons who had not heard earlier shouted out with a clamor that rose above the sound of battle.

  "And now, brother," Farsight said, his clear-faceted eyes blazing into Windrush's, "you must tell me what we are to do to help Jael!"

  Windrush's breath went out in a great sigh of bewilderment. "We must hold against the Enemy until she reaches out to us! That's all I know, Farsight—that's all we can do!"

  Chapter 41: A Tear in the Dark Web

  Rent was just casting a thread of sorcery out toward the Cavern of Spirits, to gather in his prisoner, when he felt the quake in the underrealm. For an instant, he believed he was imagining it. After all, it could not be . . . no, it was just that he was still upset over that cursed dragon's defiance. And then he felt it, without question—not just a background trembling in the underrealm, but something far more profound.

  He did not at first realize that he felt a life passing. But even at this distance, he felt the sorcery of binding dissolving like smoke through his fingers. And the only thing that could break that binding was the death of the one it held. The rigger Jael.

  Rent felt it like a stab through his heart.

  Jarvorus! he shrieked, speeding down the pathway to the cavern. What he found was a place that had been torn apart by an earthquake in the underrealm. An abyss yawned in the cavern floor, emptying into space. The impregnable weaving he had spun around his prisoner lay empty. The prisoner, the rigger, the One, was nowhere to be found. Nor was his servant Jarvorus, nor the ship in which the riggers had traveled. Only Hodakai was visible, quailing like a moth in his spirit jar.

  With a rage such as he had not felt in a lifetime of rage, Rent flew like a flashing sun around the cavern. He hovered over the rift in the floor and glared down into the darkness of the abyss, and there, almost out of sight, he glimpsed the rigger-ship tumbling away into the distance. He felt a hot-blooded urge to pursue it, to destroy it. But it didn't hold the one he wanted; there was no presence of Jael on the ship.

  Of course not—he had just felt her die.

  Jarvorus! he screamed. He sensed that the sprite was around somewhere, but there was no answer.

  He spun again, a spinning flame in midair, and hurled his anger at Hodakai. What has happened here, traitor? Tell me what has happened, before I destroy you!

  Hodakai flickered once, twice, then suddenly burned bright in the underrealm presence of his spirit jar. His voice was low and trembling, but there was a shocking passion in it. Do you think that you have the only power in this world? She is gone, Rent. She has died—by HER choice, not by yours! Though Hodakai did not actually laugh, he sounded as though he wanted to.

  Rent burned with fury. Fool! Traitor! His fury burned inwardly at himself, as well as at Hodakai. He had been far too complacent! He had trusted the sorcery! He groped for a way to express the magnitude of his rage.

  Before he could find the words, he was interrupted by another voice—one that only he could hear. It was a voice that whispered through the underrealm, and thundered in his heart.

  * Rent, I would have words with you. *

  If the mountain itself had seized Rent and spoken to him, it could not have shaken him more. There was no question why his master was calling. Rent's anger vanished, in the face of terrifying guilt. Yes, he whispered. Of course.

  * Leave that place and come to me. *

  But I must—Rent hesitated. Yes—of course. At once. With a last, venomous glance at Hodakai, he sped away.

  He sank through the underrealm, stunned by the turbulence he met, even in places that had been made strong and fast by the workings of the Nail. Rent grew increasingly fearful as he slipped through the weavings of power that lay between him and his master. He passed through a region of smoke and fire, and felt the underpinnings of the Nail's power shaking, like tremendous concrete pillars, deep in the underrealm of the Dark Vale. Rent came at last to a darkened place, and hovered over a pool of something resembling molten steel afire. Its surface shone like
a mirror, blazing with a reflection of his kuutekka, a shadow-figure in the shape of a man.

  Rent tried, trembling, to draw himself into full human form, but found he could not. At last he gave up and called out: I am here, Nail of Strength.

  The pool grew still—then quivered and collapsed into a shaft of fire, opening deep into the underrealm. A voice spoke from the shaft, deep and reverberating. * You have failed me, Rent. Do you not hear the battle rage in my vale? The time for the final victory is upon us, and you have failed me. *

  But I—

  The voice thundered, * Why did you allow her to die? *

  I didn't, I—

  * Do you not feel the realm trembling with her passing? *

  But I—Rent choked—was on my way to see to her, when she—

  * What? What did she do? *

  Rent struggled to find words. She—took her own life. Somehow. I am not certain how. But I believe I was—betrayed by Jarvorus—and by Hodakai—

  His words strangled off into silence. Prolonged silence. He did not sense in the silence any forgiveness. When the next words came from his Master, it was in a voice that he had to strain to hear, though it seemed to shake the realm as deeply as the thundering of a few moments ago.

  * She has not died, you fool. She has passed to the Mountain of Fire. Everything has changed now. Everything. And you, my failed servant, must atone for your failure. *

  Yes, he whispered. Of course—whatever—

  * Go to my vale. As a man. Walk among the dragons. See for yourself the fire and struggle. SEE FOR YOURSELF THE SPIRIT OF THE DRAGONS! *

  The—spirit—?

  * See for yourself how they rejoice! THEY KNOW THAT SHE LIVES! *

  The dragons know? Rent thought in astonishment. But how?

  * I will destroy those who betrayed me to do this. But you will FINISH the job I gave you to do in the Vale! You will CRUSH the spirit of the dragons. CRUSH the captives. *

  Rent bobbed in acquiescence. He struggled to speak. The . . . victory . . . remains certain, does it not? The preparations, and the One . . . He gasped, struggling to form his plea for reassurance. She has fallen, as the Words say . . . even if . . . early. Is that not . . . true?

  There was another silence, and this time he felt first a profoundly deep chill, and then the sudden fierce heat of the Nail's anger. * Do not question me, servant! You have your instructions! *

  Yes, Rent whispered, as the shaft of fire abruptly closed, restoring the reflective molten pool. Yes, he thought. I will do that. I will make the dragons suffer, and despair.

  I will not despair.

  * * *

  Jael was caught between joy at the fleeting touch of Windrush's presence, and fearful concentration as she tried to understand what FullSky was saying. Must fly—join Windrush—probe the Nail's strengths, find his weakness—

  But how? she whispered, from the fluttering curtains of dracona-light.

  Not sure. I—aahhhhh—! FullSky's words choked off, turning to a throaty cry of distress. Jael was stunned to realize that his presence, his kuutekka, was wavering and growing insubstantial.

  FullSky! murmured the dracona Lavafire, from the shadows. What is it?

  Under—attack, FullSky groaned, billowing a ghostly flame. I—cannot stay!

  Wait! Jael cried. I don't know what to do! I need your help!

  I—cannot—stay! FullSky gasped. Jael—do what you must! Never doubt! He was less dragon than a formless light now. Draconae—you must help her! he whispered. Then he was gone.

  FullSky! Jael cried. You can't! Not after—! Not after saving my life, bringing me here . . . but to do what? she whispered desperately, in the silence of her heart.

  There was no answer.

  But from the draconae there came a loud murmuring, and she found her mind filled with an image of FullSky's underrealm presence: stretched like a spiderweb thread from the Enemy's dungeon to the Dream Mountain, and she understood suddenly his shocking vulnerability, and the risk he had taken in reaching out to the Mountain, much less to the place where he had found her. The draconae had given him strength where they could, but they were helpless to protect him at his source, the body from which his kuutekka had sprung.

  And yet the draconae kept hope, and their hope was in Jael. Why me? she whispered silently. And she knew that it was because of the Words, because she was the outsider who had come and befriended a dragon. And now her life was in their hands, and theirs in hers.

  (Urrrk . . . fly, Jael? Fly?)

  (I don't know, Ed—I just don't know.)

  Jael felt a curtain of fear closing around her, and struggled to resist it. She focused upon her own kuutekka, and made herself as real, and yet as insubstantial, as if she were still in a rigger-net. Only now she was standing in the draconae's cavern of translucent glass, parrot on her shoulder, staring at the almost apparitional sight of the Forge of Dreams, where the draconae labored to draw their skeins of protective magic about the fire. She heard them sing a fragment of the Words:

  The One will fall

  and the realm shall tremble.

  And the fires will flicker and bend . . .

  And she suddenly understood something . . . that perhaps the way to save the dreamfire was not to protect it, but to use it. If the Enemy had his weaknesses, Jael thought she knew what one of them might be. Tar-skel's greatest sorcery was the web of power that was strangling the realm, holding the Dream Mountain and the lumenis groves captive. She had torn the web a little, with her death. But she needed to tear it a lot more, and she thought she knew where she might do that—in a place where a rigger had once before defeated the Nail of Strength.

  (Awwwk, yes—try, Jael—try!)

  (We can't do it alone, Ed,) she murmured, but she was already making her plan. Help me reach out! she whispered to the draconae. And she felt the helping, strengthening touch of Deeplife, and Waterflow, and Starchime, showing her the way through the underrealm.

  (Scrawwwww, yes! Now!) cried Ed in the back of her thoughts. And she nodded, and human and parrot together, they slipped into the underrealm and reached out toward the Black Peak.

  * * *

  Rent strode through the chasms of the Dark Vale, heedless of the battle raging overhead. His form was human—but what human had ever wielded such barehanded power? Lightning flashed from his fingertips—darted and blazed and drew screams of agony from the imprisoned dragons. Rent had been given the one task that could restore his own pride to him: make the dragons suffer, make them despair.

  He held at least a hundred captives in his power—not just dragons, but shadow-cats and sprites, and guardian-spirits, pressed into his service. From all of them came the stink of fear—fear of the carnage in the air, and fear of a human demigod bringing his wrath upon them. He wasn't trying to kill them, not yet; but if some died, he would hardly worry. The death of a few would be a fine stimulus to despair.

  Rent flicked a spike of flame at a young dragon impaled upon a lance of stone, and he crowed to himself as the creature writhed. Hearing a groan of outrage, he whirled upon a larger dragon, an old and nearly broken beast. With a scornful toss of his hands, he flung fresh bolts of pain at the groaning creature.

  "You will die, demon!" the dragon gasped angrily, and vented a failing breath of flame at him.

  Rent jumped back, startled by the blast of heat as the flame singed his face. He'd felt pain. What was this! He probed back through the sorcery that formed his body, and discovered that it had been altered at its source. He was no longer wearing his human form like a cloak; his life and breath and kuutekka were now contained within his human form. He felt a clammy chill of fear. He was vulnerable now, just like the others. He had never been vulnerable, as the Nail's most powerful servant. He felt a tingle around him at the thought, and he wondered in horror, was even his fear being tapped into the web of power?

  Just the thought made him tremble; he felt a sudden weakness in his stomach and groin.

  He felt the tingle about
him grow stronger.

  Tar-skel, he thought desperately, you aren't leaving me to the fate of your prisoners! No!

  Though he heard no audible answer, he imagined the voice of the Nail thundering in the back of his mind: * If you prove your worth, all of the power you can ask for will be yours. But if you do not—*

  As he stood before the old dragon, battling his own fear, the dragon hissed at him through the pain that Rent had inflicted. "You will not live, demon! You can kill us, but you cannot defeat us!"

  "SILENCE!" Rent screamed. He drew forth a new bolt of fire, and a second, and held the crackling thunderbolts aloft on his fingertips. Then he hurled them one after another into the dragon's eyes. Fire erupted from the dragon's head, and it screamed, and a moment later crumpled to the ground. As Rent stood triumphant over it, the dragon turned transparent and vanished.