by Alan Marble
A sound like a loud explosion rocked the air just beneath him, but he didn’t have time to look to see what it was or what had happened. Dismayed, he realized that his timing had been just off. With the force of an enormous fist the rock pounded into his chest as he slammed hard against the side of the mountain.
For a brief second like a heartbeat all motion stopped, but gravity did not hesitate to snatch at him once again, trying to pull him back down the nearly sheer slope. His head rang from the impact, his whole body screaming in pain and stunned, but the fear of falling was just enough to keep him from going limp and giving up. Desperately he clawed at the rock, his talons scrabbling against the hard, unyielding surface, dragging against his scales as he slid for several feet.
At last his talons found a hold, snagging on some small prominence, lodging in a fortunate irregularity in the rocks, and held fast. With all the control he could muster, Jonah held on to the face of the cliff. He’d survived. Rocks the size of fists crashed against his head along with a rain of tiny little pebbles, each one conspiring to loosen him from the face of the cliff, but he was just determined enough to hold on, ride out the little cascade.
He didn’t have the chance to celebrate. An angry growl and snort from somewhere beneath him caught his attention, and as soon as he’d regained enough composure to look down, he was amazed to see the bull drake in a similar position to himself, hugged against the side of the mountain, firing an almost hateful look up at him. The bull snorted once again, inhaled deeply, and opened its jaws wide in his direction.
Jonah cringed at the flame he knew was coming, the flame he knew that he could not evade this time, expecting the worst. Instead of being burned to a crisp, however, he was only subjected to a loud, grating roar. In surprise he looked back down at the bull, the big creature growling up at him in confusion as well. It tried once again, inhaling and then exhaling deeply, but no flame came.
In some stroke of luck, the impact must have rendered the bull incapable of breathing fire. He imagined Abe making some metaphor about a lucky toss of the dice, but realized that he had no idea how temporary his luck might be. He had to get out of harm’s way.
To his amazement, the bull drake was the first one to start moving. Slowly but with a sort of deadly, methodical certainty it reached for another viable hold on the rock, hauling itself up the sheer face and closing the distance toward him, those spiteful dark eyes boring holes in him the entire time. The creature had one intent and one alone : to destroy him at any cost.
Jonah couldn’t simply push himself away from the cliff and fly. He was too close to properly spread his wings, there would be no good way for him to turn away and fly in the opposite direction. He could try to fly straight up but it would take him too long to get himself moving, he had no way to give himself a head start. He’d tumble down to the foot of the cliff. It might not be so tall as to kill him, but the dragon practically nipping at his heels would be only too happy to finish the job.
The only way out was up. With a growing panic, Jonah scrabbled for some foothold that would allow him to pull himself up the cliff side, his talons snagging in another imperfection in the rock. It was enough to give him a foot or two of climb, enough to keep just one step ahead of the dragon that was now, in fact, literally nipping at him, close enough that he could feel the beast’s breath washing against his tail as it snapped at him.
His next grasp was less successful, his talons clutching at a loose bit of rock that dislodged under his weight, throwing him off balance and nearly causing him to lose all grip on the cliff at all. The sight of the loosed rock tumbling down the mountain gave him another idea, however, and all at once he was scrabbling desperately at the stone, plucking at anything he could find that was loose and send it tumbling beneath him.
It worked, at first. Rocks the size of baseballs crashed and skidded downward, several of them smacking the bull right on the face. Most of them broke apart on impact, the drake’s skull harder than rock, but it was enough to cause him to flinch back every time, swinging his head out of the way of the larger bits.
“Take that, bastard,” Jonah called down to the beast, shifting himself to the side a bit to clutch at a larger piece and force it down against the drake with enough force that it briefly lost its own grip and slid down a few feet. “That one’s for Sammy!”
The bull growled and snapped at the air, clearly growing angry and agitated at the cascade of rocks that was smashing against its head, but still unable to make any more forward progress. Too occupied with trying to dodge the larger rocks, all it could do was hang on.
Jonah felt himself beginning to get giddy with his newfound advantage, disassembling the cliff rock by rock, tearing it apart and sending it downward. “You like that? Screw you, bastard,” he shouted downward again, digging loose a large rock the size of a basketball, shoving it downward and watching it split open against the bull’s forehead, pushing it back down a bit as it hissed and snapped. “There! For Rebekah!”
His growing sense of relief, the feeling that he was gaining ground on the drake suddenly evaporated when he realized the fatal flaw in his plan. There were only so many rocks he could kick and push downward, and with each one he was making his own position on the cliff more precarious. Tugging at the rock a little too eagerly he nearly lost his grip and slipped a little, himself, gasping as panic suddenly clutched at him anew.
The cascade of rocks ceasing, the big bull saw its opportunity. With a furious snarl it sank its talons into the rock and began to scale upward even faster than before, closing the gap. Jonah could do little more than watch in horror. “Oh, shit …”
“Jonah!” He almost didn’t hear the shout behind him, he was so caught up in watching the approaching maw of the murderous bull, but at the last second he turned around to see Abe grappling with another of the bulls nearby. He seemed to have gotten the upper hand, slightly, beating the foul creature around as they tumbled through the air. “Jump!”
The command made little sense to him. Despite Abe’s advantage over his opponent things looked grim; there was no sign of Jeffress, and the third bull was closing in fast. There was no way that the big dragon could take on two at a time.
Still, there was a simple urgency to his voice, and, seeing no alternative, Jonah pushed himself away from the rock face, letting go of the stone, tumbling over backward as gravity took him again. He watched with an odd sense of detachment as the bull twisted against the rock, in turn watching him fall, slip past him, a fiery anger on the beasts face as if it felt cheated out of its kill.
Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of a strange, indistinct blur against the sky that was aimed in his direction. Before he could even begin to imagine what it was he felt something clutching at him, legs wrapping around him and plucking him away from the cliff side. He could see white with blue stripes.
In a slightly pained voice, Jeffress grunted to him. “Hang on.”
Jonah watched with a strange sense of confusion coming over him as they rolled through the air, the sky wheeling around the edge of his vision. When he was given a view of the mountainside, something seemed very wrong.
No one was moving. Abe hung motionless in the air, stopped halfway through the motion of clutching one of the bulls by the thicker part of the tail and turning about. The one on the cliff was there as motionless as stone, frozen in a growl at the empty space where he had once been, and the third drake was stuck in mid dive.
He was struck nearly dumb at the sight. Before he could react, however, everything once again started moving, as if a switch had been flipped. The bull being grappled by Abe was flung around with a mighty shove, crashing into the cliff next to the one who had been pursuing Jonah, with enough force to cause rock to shatter and spray in every direction. At the same time Abe let loose a mighty roar, heaving himself up and out of the way of the diving drake.
Whether it was the roar, the crash of the bull into the rock wall, or some combination of both the native stone h
eaved. A low, grinding shudder rocked the cliff before entire boulders shook loose, tumbling downward in every direction, each loosed rock building up on the destruction until the entire mountainside seemed to be moving all at once, churned up in a mighty avalanche of earth and snow. The two bulls on the cliff vanished, the third enveloped by the plume of dust before being swallowed up in the slide.
“I won’t be able to do that again,” Jeffress said in a near whisper, abruptly releasing him to tumble briefly through the air. Jonah twisted and tumbled a moment before he righted himself, his wings catching at the air again and pulling him aloft.
Abe was already coming about, heading back for the ridge they had been perched upon before. “No time to celebrate, boys. Sun is getting low.”
They all understood the need for haste. In a moment they were over the nearer peak, the sight of the ceremony unfolding beneath them. Though it looked exactly as it had before, Jonah could feel something unsettling emanating from the ground below as the shadows stretched further along the ice.
The mages below had seen their approach. One of them turned to face them, lifting his hands high in the air and sending a crackling spark of energy upward, aimed right for Abe. The crimson dragon twisted to the side and avoided the current, shouting out as he tucked himself in to dive. “Don’t let anything stop you! Take those mages out!”
For the moment the other dragons on the ground seemed to have not noticed them, and the other two mages remained where they stood as well, evidently carrying out their task in spite of the doom that was descending upon them. The third, who had shot off the first attack, loosed another, and another, all at the big dragon, but even when one found its mark Abe seemed only slightly stunned.
They got close enough to see the terror on the man’s expression before any of the others reacted, but it was too late. With a furious roar, the big crimson dragon passed right over the man, plucking him neatly off the ground and, in one fluid motion, tossed him through the air. End over end the man tumbled, wheeling through the sky like a rag doll before coming to an abrupt and fatal stop a hundred yards down the glacier.
Jonah sought to mimic the attack, but the mage that he had set his sights on was not going to fall for the same trick. The man ducked as he swooped in, flicking his arms over his head and pushing some kind of tangible force up into the air; Jonah felt himself shoved partially out of the way, as if he had skipped off some invisible barrier. Grunting, he swung himself around for another attack.
The entire group was in motion. Jeffress had actually landed next to his target and was busily trying to snap and claw his way through a crackling field of energy that the man was desperately throwing up between himself and the dragon. Abe was halfway through coming about, himself, roaring out ferociously after having disposed of the first mage. The advantage was theirs, but only for a moment; the rest of the clan was in motion.
With frightening coordination, all four rose and immediately pointed themselves in Abe’s direction. Jonah realized that the big dragon would probably not stand a chance against all four, and started to adjust his turn back in that direction when Abe shouted out loudly. “No, Jonah! The mage!”
Grunting as he was forced to correct in mid turn again, Jonah pushed himself once more in the direction where the man had thrown himself to the ground. By that time the mage was standing once again, hands in front of himself, twisting through the air. Once again there was a strange sort of tangible force he could feel, as if the air itself were getting thicker, harder to move through, but it was different. It was not merely defensive; the man was attacking him.
Twisting himself to the side and changing his course, Jonah barely avoided the full brunt of the attack, a column of air collapsing in on itself with enough force that it visibly distorted everything around it and created a thunderous boom. Trying not to think of what might have happened if he had still been flying in that column of air, he changed tactics and darted about wildly, so the man couldn’t predict where he was going to be next.
Frustrated, the mage pulled his hands up over his head and stretched them out. The air shifted again, thickening as it had before, a sort of shield building up between him and his target. Rather than try to push his way through it, Jonah angled himself sharply to the side and descended around it, coming to a rough but effective landing on the ground.
It had worked. He had caught the mage off guard; the man was unprepared when Jonah started to charge across the ice with furious intent. With a scream the man dove to the side, tried to gesture in the air but failed, winding up sliding along his back, helpless. Jonah dug his talons into the ice and reared back, coiling his muscles for what would be the final blow.
A flash of black at the corner of his eye made him hesitate just long enough for an enormous fireball to bloom to life in front of him, bearing down on him with dizzying speed.
TWENTY FOUR
Instinctively, Jonah threw himself to the ice. The fireball passed overhead, singing his wings and his tail with enough heat to cause him to cry out. It had done no serious damage, though, and once it passed he was able to roll himself out of the way, catching a glimpse of the scar of freshly melted snow the fireball had left in its wake.
Pulling himself back up to his feet and glancing upward, he saw exactly what he expected to see. The sinuous form of a dragon with glossy black scales and bright green eyes circling not far overhead, fresh smoke spewing from her maw. Rebekah.
He wouldn’t have much time to think about what to do next. Already he could feel the air around him thickening, the distortion making his vision shift uncomfortably. Launching himself upward and scooping up as much of that air as he could with his wings, he rose up over the mage, forcing the man to resume a more defensive posture, buying him enough time to sweep around and try to get his bearings.
Abe was still trying to fend off the attack of three of his clan-mates, the big crimson dragon obviously hesitant to strike back with much force at those he had known and cared for. Instead he was trying to keep ahead of them, his tail whipping at them when they drew too close. He would be of no help. Jeffress, too, had his hands full even if he seemed to have the upper hand, having forced the other mage into a precarious position among a small outcropping of rocks.
The crackling roar of another fireball aimed at him quickly pulled him back into his own little dilemma, forcing him to whip around and twist out of the way of the attack. Rebekah was still circling over him, already swooping around to prepare herself for another volley, while the mage below looked to be preparing himself, as well.
Jonah cringed. “How the hell am I supposed to fight both,” he whispered to himself, glancing around for any help, any way he might use the terrain to his advantage, and coming up empty. He couldn’t afford to try and mount a direct assault upon the mage; the man’s control over the air itself was an effective barrier to hitting him head on, and if he landed he would be leaving himself open to Rebekah’s attack from above.
He also couldn’t try to take her out all on his own. Even if he didn’t suffer the same problem that Abraham was having, even if he had convinced himself that he didn’t care for her and was emotionally capable of inflicting harm, he did not have any faith in himself. He had trained with her, and each and every time she had gotten the upper hand. She knew how he fought, knew his weaknesses.
There was no way Jonah could beat her in a one on one contest.
Surveying the ground beneath him, he could see the air starting to distort again. He had to pick up a little altitude, dodging another set of fireballs to keep himself out of the strange grasp of that power, when he realized he had another option. Shouting to rally himself, he whipped around and aimed himself straight at where Rebekah was flying.
The rapid change in his course had caught her off guard, briefly. He winged in close to where she was, close enough to see the frustration on her face. “Rebekah!” He called out to her as he did his best to follow her every move, keeping close. “It’s me, Jonah! Please, you
’ve got to stop fighting me!”
She did not acknowledge him. Pushing herself from one side to another, she was able to keep just out of range. He couldn't catch up to her, could not hope to take her down, but he was not trying to. There was no reason to overtake her; all he had to do was follow her, stay just behind her, match her every move.
The mage below was frustrated in his efforts to lash out at Jonah, reaching up to gesture in the air, causing some shift, some thickening and distortion near him, above him, behind him, but he was too close to Rebekah. The attacks could not harm him without harming her, either, and the man seemed unwilling to do so.
Jonah didn’t know how patient the man was, how long he would hold back for fear of injuring Rebekah, and did not intend to wait and find out. It provided him with that little extra amount of time, the chance to think, the chance to try and reach out to her. “Come on Rebekah. You remember me. You’ve been stalking me, remember?”
With a growl of irritation she tried to shake him, dipping erratically, but he was able to keep just close enough, keep from losing her. “You said you’d watch over me. I know you can’t, not now, I know this isn’t your fault … but you’ve got to listen! We’re here to help, me and Abe and Jeffress! We went to go find him, remember?”
There was an odd sort of cry off to his side, and Jonah allowed himself to look over just long enough to see one of the three dragons that was pursuing Abe had fallen back, glancing around with a look of confusion on its features. He could hear Abe shouting something over the din of the pursuing dragons. Whatever it was Jonah could not tell, but it seemed to be having an effect. He was starting to get through, at least to one of them.