Dragonseed da-3

by James Maxey

  Before her finger could twitch on the trigger, Vulpine spun. His long, whip-like tail struck the barrel of her gun as she fired. When the smoke cleared, Vulpine was still standing, looking amused. He leapt toward her, his jaws open wide. Jandra swung the iron barrel of her shotgun up, grasping the metal with both hands. The just-fired gun burned her fingers as she jammed it sideways into Vulpine's mouth, blocking his bite. The slavecatcher knocked her backwards, pushing her closer to the edge of the roof. Though his teeth were blocked, the sky-dragon still bristled with natural weaponry. He kicked his hind-talon into Jandra's gut and raked… snapping the tips of his claws. Jandra was grateful that Burke had insisted she wear the chain-mail vest beneath her coat.

  "No eat!" a small voice cried. The slavecatcher hissed and staggered backwards as Lizard leapt from his hiding place near the chimney and landed on Vulpine's back, claws digging in, his turtle-beak clamping onto Vulpine's shoulder blade.

  Vulpine snarled, whipping his tail up, knocking Lizard free. "Enough of this madness." Vulpine leapt for the sky, the downbeat of his twenty-foot wingspan fanning the smoke. A dozen small fires erupted across the wooden roof.

  Jandra tried to reload, but it was hopeless. Vulpine lifted further into the sky with each second. By the time she was ready to fire again, he was hundreds of yards away. Still, they'd chased off the most notorious slavecatcher in the kingdom. She would count this as a victory, more or less.

  Lizard leapt onto Jandra's shoulders. "Bad hot," he said, looking at the flames.

  "It's okay," said Jandra, going over to Shay. She wasn't certain if it was her imagination, but the roof felt shakier than it had earlier. The earth-dragons couldn't have set the fire more than five minutes ago. Even with the wind, should there be this much structural damage already? Almost in answer, something beneath her groaned, then crashed. She wondered if Anza had made it out.

  "Shay!" she cried, kneeling beside him. She shook his shoulders.

  He groaned as he opened his eyes. There was a large gash across this chin. He coughed violently as he sat up in the ever worsening smoke. He looked disoriented. "Where's Vulpine?" he asked.

  "Gone," said Jandra. "I think he was rattled that my gun worked and his didn't. Lizard pounced on him like a bob-cat and Vulpine turned tail."

  "Wait. His gun?"

  "He took yours. Your ammo too. I hope he's not clever enough to figure out how to use it." Shay looked like this was a dumb thing for Jandra to say. "I'll cling to any hope I can get at the moment, false or not. You may have noticed we're on top of a burning building. And, unlike that wizard you mentioned earlier, I've never been able to fly."

  "Good thing Vance dragged up the ladder then," said Shay, rising. "We can get down to the porch roof with this, then down to the ground."

  Jandra nodded. It was a sound plan. Shay lowered the ladder to the roof and held it as he motioned for her to go first. It was an unexpected gesture. The two human men she was most familiar with, Bitterwood and Pet, would have escaped down the ladder first and left her to fend for herself.

  "Hurry," he said.

  Jandra descended the ladder. Anza was in the street again, crouched over Vance. There were no sign of any living dragons in either direction down the Forge Road. Human families were now rushing into the street, running from house to house to check on the wounded and count the dead.

  Shay came down the ladder to the porch roof. The heat from the open windows made it hard to breathe. They lowered the ladder to the street and climbed down, then ran to Vance's side.

  "Is he okay?" Jandra asked Anza. Anza looked up, frowning. She shook her head.

  Vance's eyes were wide open, fully dilated, focused on nothing. He was bleeding from a gash on his scalp. "Why is it so dark?" he whispered. "Why is it so dark?"

  Jandra turned away, utterly powerless. With her genie, she could have looked inside Vance to discover the nature of his injury. She could have repaired whatever damage she discovered from the cellular level up. She looked back toward the tavern as the roof collapsed, sending a whirlwind of flames heavenward. "Thorny!" she said. "He's still in the basement!"

  She tossed her shotgun to Shay. "This will only slow me down." She took off running, darting down the alley that led behind the tavern. She looked up as a shadow flickered overhead-Vulpine? -but it was only the smoke blotting out the moon. She tripped as she reached the back of the ally, landing hard, skidding in the dirt. Lizard's weight on her shoulder vanished as he flew off. A darker shadow fell over her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose at the metallic clank to her right. From the corner of her eye, she saw the thick, scaly foot of an adult earth-dragon.

  She rolled as the earth-dragon grunted. A battle-axe bit into the earth where she'd been an instant before. The earth-dragon was dressed in full battle gear, breast plate, helmet, shield.

  "Bad boss!" shrieked Lizard, sounding terrified.

  The earth-dragon growled as he pulled the axe free of the cold ground, brandishing it above his head to strike again. Jandra kept her eyes fixed on her attacker. As he swung, she rolled again, to the side of the blow. Earth-dragons were strong, but not especially fast, definitely not under a full load of armor. Jandra braced her back against the ground and kicked up with both feet, targeting the dragon's elbow. Her feet connected with a satisfying crunch and the dragon hissed as its talon released the axe handle. The beast staggered back, pain flashing in its eyes. Just as quickly, the pain turned to rage. The dragon dropped his shield and lunged, his free talon aimed at Jandra's face. Jandra again rolled away, using her momentum to spring to her feet as the earth-dragon landed with a clatter on the spot where she'd been.

  She leapt over his body before he could rise, grabbing the axe buried in the ground. The weapon was impractically heavy, probably fifty pounds. Before the genie tuned her body, there was no way she could have swung it. She spun around, letting momentum add to the strength of her swing. The dragon was raising his head as she sunk the axe into the back of his neck, just below the helmet. The force of the blow tore the weapon from her hand. She looked down, wincing at the large black splinter buried in her palm.

  The dragon collapsed, lifeless. Lizard skittered forward and poked the half-decapitated earth-dragon on the beak.

  "Not move?" he asked.

  "Not move," she said.

  She turned as she heard footsteps behind her. It was Shay. He looked at the dead dragon, wide-eyed. "Are you all right? I heard a fight."

  "I have a splinter," she said, holding up her palm. Her words were drowned out by a loud crash from inside the tavern. Sparks shot from every window. The fire roared as the wind whipped it into an ever-growing fury. Jandra scooped up Lizard and cradled him against her breast as she ran toward the tunnel. Shay followed at her heels. Her eyes searched the shadows for any further sign of dragon-stragglers.

  "Thorny!" she yelled as she reached the tunnel doors. There was a small pile of clutter next to the tunnel, boxes full of tools, several round dials, their faces covered with numbers, plus stacks of notebooks, and vials of unrecognizable fluids.

  "Thorny!" Shay shouted, using his hands as a megaphone. No one answered.

  "Come on," said Jandra, running down the tunnel. The doors at the end were closed, but reddish-orange light danced through the gaps. The air was distinctly smoky. Before they could approach the doors burst open, sending forth a blast of heat and a cloud of smoke. A tall, black-haired girl in buckskins with an old man slung over her shoulders marched out of the cloud.

  "Anza?" Shay asked. Anza gave a slight smirk, as if to ask who else he might have been expecting. Thorny coughed violently. Anza marched up the slope, breathing evenly. Her buckskins were splattered shoulder to ankle in blood, but as near as Jandra could determine, Anza didn't have a scratch on her.

  "But… you were just in the street," Shay said, following Anza. "How did…?"

  Behind them, there was another crash, and another wave of smoke gushed up the tunnel, hiding everything from view. Jandra found the
tunnel wall and held her breath as she groped her way back toward fresh air. Behind her in Burke's workshops, things began to pop and sizzle in small explosions. Over this noise came a series of powerful twangs as springs began to burst free of the braces that held them.

  Jandra made it outside and took a deep breath of the relatively clean air. She looked toward the tavern. Red hot iron rods six feet long were shooting up into the air, rising a hundred feet before they fell back toward the burning building, already losing their glow. The heat of the flames could be felt even here. The human villagers gathered around to gawk as the building began to tremble. Something deep within the guts of the building exploded with a deep bass rumble and the entire structure fell in upon itself. Jandra stepped away from the tunnel entrance as a jet of sparks shot out into the night air.

  "Good light!" Lizard said, excited. The sparks swirled up into the winter sky like some sort of reverse snow. Jandra did have to admit that, stripped of all the horrors of the night, the sparks possessed a sort of primal beauty.

  Shay stared down the tunnel, his face forlorn. "All those books," he whispered. "Have I been cursed? Why does every book I touch lately go up in flames?"

  "It's just bad luck," said Jandra.

  "It's more than bad luck," said Shay. "It's the end of my dreams. I had no plan but to escape to Dragon Forge. Now that I'm not welcome there, I don't know where I'll go. I had thought perhaps, with a few books, I could find some village that would want my services as a teacher. Without books, what do I have to offer?"

  "You could come with me the rest of the way to the palace," said Jandra. "If I get my tiara back, we can move freely through the place since I'll have full control over my invisibility again. You can take all the books you can carry."

  "So… you admit you're a wizard?"

  "No," said Jandra. "I'm a nanotechnician."

  "I don't know what that word means," said Shay.

  "It means I command unimaginably tiny machines," said Jandra. "At least, I used to."

  Shay looked at her skeptically, as if judging whether she was putting him on. He held the shotgun he carried out toward her. Jandra shook her head and loosened her gun belt, offering it to him.

  "You keep it. You have a talent for it."

  Anza had laid Thorny on the grass after she'd carried him from the tunnel, but now the old man was back on his feet, his cheeks tarnished with soot. "Damn," he said. "I didn't get a tenth of the stuff on his list. If I were younger, or my hands a little stronger…"

  Anza flashed him a few rapid hand gestures.

  "You're right," he said. "I'm alive. That's what counts."

  "You understand Anza a lot better than I do," said Jandra.

  "She grew up in my company," said Thorny. "I'm like an uncle to her. By the time she was seven or eight, I never even thought much about the fact she didn't speak. Once you know how to read her, she gets her thoughts across just fine with her eyes and her hands."

  "She's never talked?" Shay asked.

  "She made some noises as a baby, but stopped when she was about a year old. After that, she didn't even make sounds when she'd cry. Some of the townsfolk whispered that she might be an imbecile, but anyone who knew her could see that she was smarter than other kids her age. Burke used to tell anyone who asked about her that it's better to be silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."

  Anza crossed her arms, looking uncomfortable with this discussion.

  "I guess I should go talk to the rest of the townsfolk," Thorny said. "Tell 'em what I know, have them get ready to head to Dragon Forge. Get Burke his notebooks and those gauges. The note said the rest of you were heading on to the dragon palace. We can probably find somewhere in the village where you can rest up for what's left of the night. Get you washed up, too. Anza, you look a fright."

  Anza shrugged and brushed back a loose lock of her hair from her cheek, leaving a streak of dark blood like war paint.

  CHAPTER SEVEN:

  SUCH IMAGINATION

  IT WAS DAWN when Vulpine arrived at the Dragon Palace. The ancient structure loomed like a small mountain near the banks of a broad river that gleamed like silver in the morning mist. The human city of Richmond lay nearby, the docks already bustling with laborers. The rebellion at Dragon Forge must seem very distant to these men, thought Vulpine. Richmond was a bustling center of trade, a gateway between the flat coastal plains to the east and the hills and mountains to the west. Thirty thousand humans dwelled in Richmond, by far the largest city in the kingdom.

  Even though Richmond lay in the shadow of the Dragon Palace, it had escaped Albekizan's genocidal schemes unscathed. Albekizan had drawn upon the labor of the humans here when he built the Free City not ten miles distant. The Free City had been designed by Albekizan's wicked brother Blasphet to serve as a trap for humanity, a promise of paradise that was actually intended to bring about the final solution to the human problem. Yet, in the end, the trap did more damage to dragons than men. The first wave of humans brought to the city had fought back when Albekizan ordered their slaughter, led by the legendary dragon-hunter Bitterwood, aided by the treacherous wizard Vendevorex. During all this turmoil, the men of Richmond had simply carried on with business, keeping the canals open, buying and selling goods. Every scrap of lumber, every nail and hammer used to build the Free City had passed through these docks.

  Vulpine had considered Albekizan's plan to wipe out humanity sheer madness. As a slavecatcher, he was keenly aware that dragon society was built upon the labor of humans. None of the three dragon races could ever replace them.

  Earth-dragons were fit only for lives as soldiers; blacksmiths were the closest thing to artisans that their race had ever produced. There was no earth-dragon sculpture or literature, and earth-dragon music was barely distinguishable from noise. Earth-dragon cuisine was even more abominable-all pickled sausages and salted meat, spiced to eye-watering heat. Earth-dragons could never replace the skills of human farmers, carpenters, and craftsmen.

  Of course, his own species was a poor substitute for human labor as well. Most sky-dragon males were averse to actual work. The majority devoted their lives to scholarship. Over the centuries they had produced poems, statues, operas, and lengthy treatises on every topic under the sun. They'd filled libraries and museums with their creations; but every one of those libraries had been built by the labors of men. The diet of sky-dragons was more sophisticated than earth-dragons-fish, fresh fruit, crusty bread, and vegetables in a rainbow of colors-and all of this was grown by human farmers and cooked by human slaves.

  Vulpine had become a slavecatcher because it was one of the few professions available to his race that truly mattered. Slavecatchers were the invisible glue that held the world together. They were greatly feared among men. Their reputation for brutality was well deserved, but it did not spring from any innate cruelty. The poets, artists, and musicians of the world would starve if not for the work of slavecatchers. Men benefited from the system as well, as strict discipline allowed the war-prone humans to live in relative peace. Without the valiant efforts of slavecatchers, the world would spin into anarchy.

  Who else kept order? The sun-dragons? Albekizan and his incompetent heir Shandrazel had done the world far more harm than good. Albekizan had triggered the human uprising with his inept attempt at genocide. Shandrazel had allowed the problem to explode by showing weakness, allowing a ragtag band of humans to defeat his army at Dragon Forge. Albekizan had lit a fire; Shandrazel had poured oil upon it. It was left to Vulpine to squelch the flames.

  Fortunately, he would not be without allies. Aside from the slavecatchers, there was one more small subset of sky-dragon males willing to dirty their talons: the aerial guard, a hundred or so sky-dragons who served as protectors of the Dragon Palace.

  It was these guards who now rose into the sky. A dozen of them quickly assumed an arrow formation and shot in his direction, ready to defend the palace. The living wall of sky-dragon guards that close
d quickly in on Vulpine made his heart glad. It was such a waste that his brethren devoted themselves to studies and art-a martial sky-dragon was a glorious thing, a hundred pounds of muscle, bones, and scale that commanded the air like no other creature on earth. The members of the aerial guard were especially impressive. Red and yellow ribbons trailed from the mane of blue scales that ran down their necks and backs, coloration that matched the banners of Albekizan that still adorned the palace. In their hind-talons, the aerial guard carried long-spears, their razor-sharp tips dazzling in the morning sun.

  The eyes of the aerial guard were hard as they neared. One by one, their gazes softened as they recognized Vulpine. Seventy years old, Vulpine was well known to all sky-dragons. He'd been Slavecatcher General for nearly thirty years, and he'd been present for the initiation of every last one of these dragons. All carried a two-inch long, talon-shaped scar below their right eye-a scar made by a branding iron that Vulpine himself had wielded, marking them forever as warriors.

  "Greetings, warrior," Vulpine called out to Sagen, the lead guard. Sagen was a fine specimen, his muscles moving beneath his azure scales like precisely-tuned machinery. Sagen was the product of one of the most respected bloodlines of the sky-dragons-his own. Breeding was strictly controlled among the sky-dragons, with all pairings guided by the Matriarch to capture the most worthy traits of the sky-dragon race. The upbringing of sky-dragons was strictly communitarian; they didn't form family units like humans or sun-dragons. While most sky-dragons knew their lineage, their loyalty was to their race, not their relatives. Still, Vulpine had always had an interest in each of his many offspring, and Sagen had made him especially proud when he'd embraced the warrior's path and begun his meteoric rise in the ranks of the aerial guard.