Dragons Reborn

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Dragons Reborn Page 18

by Daniel Arenson


  The boy grew in size, scales hardening across him. Gemini screamed and fell back onto the wooden deck. The golden dragon stood up and snarled down at him, blasting smoke.

  "Coward," Gemini said and spat onto the reptile. "Too weak to face me as a man?" He rose to his feet, marched to the balustrade, grabbed a sword from a rack, and pointed the blade at Cade. "I can slay dragons. I'm going to cut you down, boy." He raised his sword, prepared to swing the blade.

  "Enough!"

  The voice rose from above. Beating wings blasted Gemini's hair. Across the deck, warriors stared up, gasped, and knelt. Gemini looked up and sneered.

  Amity, the Red Queen of the Horde, came flying down toward him. The red dragon was larger than Cade's reptilian form, and fire blazed in her maw. Her wings billowed the sails. The red dragon landed on the deck and shifted into human form. She stood before Gemini as a woman—tall and tanned, clad in armor, her limbs long and lithe. Her yellow hair was just long enough to fall across her ears, and her eyes blazed with rage.

  Gemini sneered at the woman. "Do you know who I am? Kneel!" He pointed at the deck. "Kneel, reptilian whore, before your true master. I am Gemini Deus, and you will kneel before me!"

  Amity glanced aside at Domi and Cade; the boy had resumed human form and now stood by the redheaded traitor. Gemini would burn them both later.

  The Red Queen turned her gaze back toward him. "I know you, Gemini Deus. I know you well. Domi thought to wrap you in the robes of a High Priest, to create a little puppet ruler and pull your strings. But we'll have no more need for your services. And you will be the one to kneel before me. You will kneel now, as you asked me to kneel, and you will pledge your loyalty to me. Do this and live. Refuse and you will die."

  Gemini growled. The rage flowed across him. He raised his sword. "How dare you, woman?" He spat at Amity's feet. "How dare you, harlot? You're nothing but a barbarian, a brute not worthy of polishing my boots. When I'm High Priest, I'll have you shoveling dung in the capital, I—"

  Before Gemini could complete his sentence, Amity leaped forward, knocked aside his sword with her own blade, and drove her fist into his face.

  His legs turned to jelly.

  He collapsed onto the deck, reeling.

  Cade had fought like a wild dog, but Amity pummeled Gemini with the intensity and heartless efficiency of a blacksmith beating steel. Her knees pinned him down, and her punches rained, and he screamed.

  He felt himself shatter.

  She grabbed him, tugging him to his feet, leaving a deck stained with blood. She shoved him against the balustrade and placed her sword against his neck. She sneered at him over the blade, a wild beast, still in human form but no less monstrous than a dragon.

  "Now you die, Gemini Deus, Paladin of the Temple."

  "Domi!" Gemini cried, slumped against the balustrade, blood in his mouth. "Domi, please!" He reached out to her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please." He wept. "I'm sorry. Please don't let me die. Please."

  As the blade shoved against his neck, he stared at Domi through her tears. She stood on the deck, wrapped in Cade's arms. She gazed at him with those huge eyes, peering through her strands of wild hair. And he saw the pity in those eyes. He saw the love for him.

  "I love you," Gemini whispered. "I'm sorry."

  He took a deep, shuddering breath, ready for Amity to drive her blade forward, to end his life. He would die looking at Domi, at the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, at the woman he loved. He could think of no better way to die.

  Amity nodded once and took a deep breath.

  "Wait." Domi stepped forward. "Wait, Amity." The young woman stared at Gemini. "Spare his life."

  Amity turned toward her, still keeping her blade against Gemini's neck. "Do you pity this dog?"

  "I do," Domi whispered. "I loved him once. Let him kneel before you. Let him serve you."

  Amity snorted. "He's a son of the enemy. He must die."

  "He's a son of the enemy," Domi agreed, "which is why he must live. He's worth more to us alive. Let him be our prisoner if not our servant. Let us bring him alive to the Temple so that Beatrix might see that we've captured her son." She looked back at Gemini. "Let him cling to whatever remains of his life. He saved me, Amity. He saved my life once. Let me save his."

  Amity stared at Gemini for a moment longer, then at Domi. She seemed to be considering. Finally she grunted, stepped back, and sheathed her blade.

  Gemini fell to his knees, trembling. Droplets of blood dripped from his nose to splash against the deck.

  "Thank you," he whispered. He reached out to Domi. "Thank you. I—"

  "Lift him up!" Amity shouted to a group of sailors. "Tie him onto the mast. He tried to slay the Red Queen. He will be punished. Tie him up and beat him! Ten lashes of the whip, then toss him into the brig."

  Gemini gasped. "No! I . . . I'm kneeling! I serve you! I . . . I serve you, Red Queen, please!" His voice was hoarse. "Please!"

  But Amity was already walking away, and the sailors stepped forth. They grabbed Gemini. They twisted his arms behind his back. He struggled but he was too weak to resist.

  "Domi, please!" he cried.

  They tied him to the mast, and Domi wept and covered her eyes, and they beat him. They lashed their whips, again and again, tearing into his back, ignoring his screams, ignoring his tears, his pleading. When they finally untied him, he collapsed onto the deck, and they dragged him, and darkness fell upon Gemini, darkness greater than the night, greater than the dungeons of the Temple, greater than the loss of Domi's love. He knew nothing but shadows and pain.

  CADE

  He was flying high above the Horde's fleet, a golden dragon in the wind, when Cade saw the white ships rise from the northern horizon.

  He frowned.

  "Ships?"

  Cade soared higher, and he saw them more clearly now—hundreds of masts rising from the horizon, a great armada, its sails white.

  He glanced below him. The fleet of the Horde sailed there, the ships small from this height. When Cade glanced behind him, he could just make out the coast of Terra, a faded line on the horizon. He stared back ahead.

  Were these more ships of the Horde, allies come to join them, sent here from another garrison?

  Cade narrowed his eyes, beat his wings, and darted ahead. He shot across the sky, leaving the Horde's fleet behind, moving closer toward the distant ships.

  He sucked in breath.

  "Stars," he whispered.

  The distant vessels—hundreds sailed there—were brigantines, carracks, and caravels, ships of the north. Their hulls were painted white, and their square sails displayed golden tillvine blossoms. Above them flew hundreds of firedrakes, riders upon them.

  "The Cured Temple's fleet." Cade could barely breathe. "Beatrix attacks."

  He spun around in the sky and flew as fast as he could, heading back toward the Horde's ships.

  "Enemy ahead!" Cade shouted, voice roaring across the sky. "The Cured Temple attacks! Enemy ships ahead!"

  Across the fleet of the Horde, sailors stared his way. Griffins, salvanae, and dragons cried out, beat their wings, and soared higher.

  Wings thudded, and Amity rose to fly beside Cade. The red dragon gave the invading fleet one glance, then roared out for all to hear, "Horde! Battle formations! Horde, prepare for war!" Amity glanced at Cade and puffed a spurt of flame his way. "With me, kid. We're going to kill some star-damn Templers."

  The enemy fleet kept sailing closer, and Cade could hear their war drums now, their horns wailing like dying men, and the distant buzz of priests and warriors chanting for victory. Below Cade, the sailors in the Horde's crow's nests spotted the enemy masts, and they cried out their warnings and blew their own horns.

  "Enemy ships! Enemy ships!"

  Griffins took flight from decks and rose to fly to one side of the Horde's fleet, a great cloud of fur and feathers and gleaming yellow beaks. Salvanae rose too, uncoiling to form great serpents in the sky, as long as the ships, chink
ing and gleaming and bugling out their cries. Upon the ships, archers nocked arrows, gunners poured gunpowder into cannons, and warriors brandished their swords, axes, spears, and hammers.

  With a flash of blue scales, Fidelity soared to fly by Cade. "What is it?" she said, squinting toward the distance. In her dragon form, she didn't even have one lens to see through. "I can't see! How many Temple ships?"

  "All of them, I think." Cade beat his wings. "Fly, Fidelity! Let's burn the bastards."

  The two dragons flew, following Amity. The red dragon roared ahead, blasting out fire, crying out for war. More wings thudded, and three more dragons soared to join them: Korvin, a burly charcoal beast, his scales like iron plates; Roen, a long green dragon, a creature like a fairy tale monster of moss and leaf, a dragon of the deep woods, roaring for the burning of his forest; and Domi, a wild dragon with scales in all the colors of flame, a creature that seemed woven of fire itself. Together, six dragons—the last of their kind in the world—stormed forth, forming the spearhead of their army, and roared out their flame.

  A thousand firedrakes of the Cured Temple stormed toward them across the sea. A thousand arrows and a thousand jets of flame flew their way.

  Cade roared and charged into the inferno.

  The sea roiled and the sky burned.

  Cade blasted out his dragonfire. The jet screamed through the air, loud as cannon fire. Streams of flame crashed around him, and arrows clattered against his scales, and he soared through the blaze.

  "Fidelity, with me!" he cried.

  He rose higher and saw the enemy firedrakes shooting his way, hundreds of them, covering the sky, flying in groups of five, their formations a machine of deadly precision. They stormed toward Cade, and on their backs, paladins fired their arrows.

  "I'm here!" Fidelity cried, rising up toward him.

  More fire flowed their way, and the two dragons—gold and blue—shouted and swooped, blasting down their dragonfire.

  Their twin jets of flame wreathed together, crackling, spewing out fountains of heat. The dragonfire crashed into a flight of firedrakes below. The flames washed over one paladin, melting his armor, melting the flesh beneath. The man screamed and tumbled from the saddle, and Cade and Fidelity kept swooping. With a roar, Cade landed on one firedrake and closed his jaws around the paladin in the saddle. He bit deep, his fangs punching through steel plates, and whipped his head backward, ripping the screaming man from the saddle. He tossed the corpse aside and lashed his claws, digging them into the firedrake's tenderspots, cutting deep into the flesh within, piercing the lungs, then sending the firedrake falling. Cade reared in the sky, roaring, covered in blood, blasting out fire.

  He had never known such rage, such bloodlust. The enemies swarmed around him. Fidelity, Domi, and the others fought at his sides, blasting their heat in a ring, their claws lashing. Arrows whistled all around. One arrow cracked one of Cade's scales. Another cut through his wing, and he bellowed with pain. He soared toward a firedrake above him, dodged the beast's claws, and gored the animal with his horns. Blood spilled, and Cade tugged his head madly, ripping the firedrake's belly open, spilling its innards. He yanked his head back, flew forward, and roared out fire, bathing another firedrake with the inferno. The paladin in its saddle screamed and burned.

  Cade bellowed in the sky, feeling like a firedrake himself, a mindless beast who knew nothing but the hunt, the kill, the heat of battle. His roar rang across the sky. It was a roar for his dead stepparents. For his kidnapped stepsister. For his burnt village. For all those the Cured Temple had killed, for all they had destroyed. It was the roar for a lost kingdom, a fallen people, a memory fading under the light of the Cured.

  "Requiem!" he cried, voice hoarse, mouth full of blood. "Remember Requiem!"

  "Requiem!" Fidelity shouted, rising to fly beside him, scales blue and fangs red.

  "Requiem!" shouted Domi, rising to fly at his other side.

  "Requiem!" cried Korvin and Roen, blasting out their fire, and Amity joined them, shouting out for their lost kingdom. "Remember Requiem!"

  Flying here with them, fighting with them, Cade was not fighting for the Horde, not for conquest, not even for revenge. He fought for that word Domi had whispered into his ear, for that memory Fidelity had kept alive in her books, for that kingdom Korvin had fought for all his life. For a memory of dragons. For dragons reborn. For Requiem.

  He dodged a volley of arrows, skirted beneath the claws of firedrakes, and dipped lower in the sky. Past smoke and fire, he beheld the battle below upon the sea, and he lost his breath.

  Countless ships covered the roiling waters like flotsam, burning, firing cannons, bustling with sailors. Hundreds of Temple ships, vessels with white hulls and towering masts, sailed with deadly precision. Agile longships with many oars surrounded the looming carracks and brigantines, forming dozens of battle formations. Cannons blasted from the Templers' hulls, spraying out smoke and light. Archers in white robes fired from the bulwarks. Iron figureheads, shaped as rams, drove into the hulls of Horde ships, cracking the wood, and gangplanks slammed down from deck to deck. Holy warriors, all in white, leaped from the Temple's ships onto the Horde's decks, swinging swords, raising shields. And everywhere the cannonballs flew, shattering hulls, snapping masts, driving along decks to tear men into red mist. Corpses filled the water.

  Cade could only spare the battle a glance. More firedrakes flew toward him, their dragonfire crashing down. Cade shot forward and soared again, blasting his flames.

  The sky was a reflection of the sea, a battle of no less intensity. The thousand firedrakes flew everywhere, a tapestry of scales and fangs. From the east flew the griffins, screeching as they lashed their talons and snapped their beaks. On their backs, riders of the Horde fired arrows and thrust lances. The griffins were burlier than dragons, their wings wider, but they had no fire; the firedrakes blasted them with their flames, and the griffins' lion bodies and eagle wings blazed. Every moment, another griffin tumbled from the sky, a fiery comet, to crash into the sea.

  From the west flew hundreds of salvanae. The ancient true dragons coiled across the sky like many streamers, long and thin serpents of the air, and their beards fluttered in the sky. They were thinner and weaker than griffins, but they shot lightning bolts from their jaws. The shards of electricity slammed into firedrakes, cracking scales, driving into the armor of paladins. The salvanae were mighty, but they too were falling fast; their scales were too thin, things of beauty rather than the thick armor of dragons. Firedrake claws tore off those scales and sent them showering down in a parti-colored hail. Blood rained. Arrows drove into the true dragons, and fire washed over them, and they too fell from the sky, twisting madly as they crashed into the waves, ancient creatures gone into the sea.

  By the stars of Requiem, Cade thought, heart sinking. We're only hours off the coast of Terra, still days away from the Commonwealth, and already we're shattering.

  Korvin plunged down from the fray, covered in burns and cuts. Several of his scales were missing, and the skin beneath bled.

  "Cade, with me!" the charcoal dragon shouted. "We have to protect the ships below!"

  "But the sky—"

  "The sky is lost!" Korvin shouted. "We must protect the fleet."

  Cade glanced down again. The Horde's fleet was twice the size of the Temple's armada, but most of its ships were smaller. Rather than sail in formation, the Horde fought in an unorganized mass. Rather than follow commanders into battle, the Horde's warriors fought as a mob. Dozens of their ships blazed, listed, and sank, and cannon fire kept pounding them. Firedrakes kept swooping from the sky, raining down fire, and sails blazed. Already a dozen Horde ships had been claimed by the enemy; paladins and Temple soldiers chanted atop them, tossing off the corpses of the Horde. A few of the surviving griffins and salvanae were attacking the Temple's ships, but cannonballs and arrows slammed into them, sending them crashing down into the water.

  "Dragons of Requiem, with me!" Korvin shouted and dive
d, curving his flight to charge toward the Temple's fleet.

  Cade flew with him, screaming in his rage. Roen flew at his side; the green dragon bellowed, scales charred, claws painted red. Amity still flew somewhere above, calling out for war, and Cade could no longer see Domi and Fidelity, but he kept flying with Korvin and Roen, kept roaring, and they flew closer toward the enemy fleet. Several griffins and salvanae joined their flight, archers of the Horde on their backs.

  Several carracks swayed ahead in the water, lofty ships with many sails, and hundreds of Templers stood on the decks—paladins in white plate armor and common soldiers in chain mail and white robes. As the dragons charged, Templer gunners wheeled cannons toward them.

  Cade roared and dipped in the sky, skimming the water, charging toward the vessels.

  The cannons fired.

  Smoke blasted out. The sound was deafening. The water around the ship was flattened and waves blasted forth. With flame and roaring noise, cannonballs flew through the air. One shrieked above Cade, nearly hitting his horns. At his side, another cannonball slammed into a griffin. The beast collapsed, ribs snapping, flesh flying out in gobbets, blood raining. It crashed down into the sea, torn apart. Another cannonball slammed into another griffin's rider, scattering the body into a shower of meat and blood.

  "Burn them!" Korvin roared above. The iron dragon blasted forth his dragonfire. Beside him, Roen opened his jaws wide, and the green dragon sent forth an inferno of light and heat.

  Cade roared and blew his dragonfire with them.

  The jets streamed forth and slammed into the enemy ships.

  The carracks caught fire. Sails blazed, tore free from the masts, and flew through the air to envelope other ships. Men screamed, burning, and jumped into the water. The cannons blasted again, and Cade dipped to dodge the iron balls. He plunged into the water, sinking into the cold sea.

  He opened his eyes underwater to see men sinking, struggling in their armor but only descending deeper. Blood danced around Cade like red fairies. Beating his tail, he swam under one of the brigantines, then drove upward.

 

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