Fidelity's eyes widened. She gulped and held the page closer, struggling to read in the darkness.
"Rise, great digger of soil and metal! Rise into the world and taste freedom!"
With a roar that split the air, with claws that tore up rock and soil, the creature began to emerge.
"Stars above!" Cade cried and shifted back into a dragon. He beat his wings and soared. "Fidelity, stand back!"
But she was frozen in place, staring up with wide eyes.
By the stars.
She had imagined a great, scaled slug, something large and frightening but essentially still just a slug. What Fidelity saw, however, made her knees tremble and head spin.
The creature kept emerging from the earth. It was massive. Larger than three dragons and still crawling out. It had four legs--no, six!--each plump and tipped with claws. A cylinder thrust out from its head, its tip rimmed with teeth--some sort of elongated mouth, Fidelity thought. She saw no eyes, no nostrils. But strangest of all was the creature's body. That body was sluggish and fat and covered with translucent scales. She could see through those scales and the skin into the creature's innards. She saw no bones, no muscles, no veins, only floating bulbs of pale blue and white liquid, organs like colorful soap bubbles. Deep in its belly floated clumps of soil, rock, and snow the creature must have eaten. A heart beat within its chest, white and veined.
"Fidelity, back!" Cade cried again. He dived down, swept her aside with his wing, and blasted forth his dragonfire.
The jet crashed into the fireslug's head.
The creature screamed.
Fidelity fell into the snow, staring up at the blaze, and that scream tore through her. It sounded hurt. It sounded almost human. A scream of surprise, of pain.
You betrayed me! the fireslug seemed to cry. Why do you hurt me?
"Wait," Fidelity whispered, sitting in the snow.
More wings flapped. Korvin and Amity flew above now, and they too blasted down their dragonfire, hitting the creature's head. The fireslug flailed, its tail still in the hole. Its six pudgy limbs lashed out, too short to hit the dragons. Its head burned, and still it screamed. Inside its translucent body, Fidelity saw the floating balls of liquid boil and burst.
"Stop!" Fidelity said. "Wait, stop! Don't hurt it. Let it go, I changed my mind!"
The dragonfire died around her, but the creature's head still blazed. It turned that head toward Fidelity, and though it had no eyes, Fidelity could feel it looking at her. Feel its pain at her betrayal. Feel its fear.
"It's afraid," she whispered, eyes damp.
She approached the fireslug slowly as the fires died across it. The creature slumped down and placed its charred head in the snow, perhaps seeking relief from the pain. Its elongated mouth had burnt and shriveled up.
"I'm sorry," Fidelity whispered. She stepped closer and placed a hand against the great burnt head; it was larger than her entire human body. "I'm sorry, my friend. I didn't know you could feel pain. I--"
A shadow darted.
Amity leaped down from the air, back in human form, and drove her sword into the creature's soft head.
"No!" Fidelity screamed. She leaped forward and slammed into Amity, knocking the woman down into the snow. But she was too late. The fireslug gave a last whimper, a sound of pain, of longing, and Fidelity realized that it was speaking--actually speaking--in the language of Ancient Eteer.
"Mother," the demon whimpered, looking at Fidelity. "Mother . . ."
Then its head slumped down, the sword still buried within it, and it rose no more.
Fidelity wept. She rose to her feet, enraged, and shook Amity. "Why? Why did you do this?"
Amity shoved her back. "You told us to kill it!"
"I told you to stop hurting it!" Fidelity shouted. "It wasn't a mindless creature. It was smart! It was scared. It . . . it wanted me to help it."
Fidelity fell to her knees in the snow, overcome with grief.
Amity rolled her eyes, but Cade approached slowly and knelt by Fidelity.
"Are you sure, Fi?" the boy said softly. "It just looks like a big worm to me. Maybe worms just grow really large underground. I don't think it knew what hit it."
But Fidelity knew they would not understand. They had not felt its gaze. They had not understood its whimper, did not realize it was a word.
She rose to her feet, eyes damp, and marched toward the cellar.
Let the others skin it, she thought bitterly, eyes burning. I cannot see it. I cannot bear it.
She moved to the back of the cellar and stood facing the wall, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She too was scared. For Domi. For this world. For what she had done. She heard Amity laugh outside, and Fidelity knelt on the cold floor, lowered her head, and prayed to the stars for forgiveness.
MERCY
The bones of the dead flew across the land, risen from their graves, and for the first time in years, Mercy visited the grave of her daughter.
It was a clear winter morning, and though Mercy could imagine no enemies attacking in the cemetery, still she wore her armor. Her armor had never been merely steel to ward off blades or claws but a shell, a metal skin to hide the softness within. Encased in her steel, she walked between the naked oaks and birch trees. Icicles hung from the branches, and snow crinkled under her boots. The sky was pale blue, and thousands of tombstones rose around her, frosted and topped with snow. Statues of druids rose among them. It was a beautiful place, a peaceful place, but forever a place of pain and fear to Mercy.
This is where I buried my daughter.
As she walked here, she held her new babe in her arms. Wrapped in swaddling clothes, Eliana gazed around in wonder at the trees. The baby had grown so much larger since Mercy had first found her, and thick brown hair grew on her head. Mercy remembered that her first daughter had had brown hair--brown like Mercy's was before she had bleached it white and shaved off half in servitude of the Spirit.
Finally she found the grave.
One of the priests had suggested raising a great monument, Mercy remembered, but Beatrix had refused. A stillborn daughter was seen as weakness, a shame to hide away, and so the tombstone was simple, unmarked, unnamed.
But she wasn't merely stillborn, Mercy thought. She was murdered.
She winced, feeling that pain again--the pain of her husband's fists driving into her swollen belly. And again she could feel her blade thrusting into his belly. He was her first kill, and Mercy remembered marveling at how little resistance there was to a sharp blade, how the skin had given way like paper, and how the blood had splashed her, hot, coppery. She would never forget that smell. Never forget how easy it was to kill.
And she remembered coming here to this place, wrapped in a cloak, staring with dry eyes as they had buried her child.
"That was the day I gave up the priesthood," she whispered to Eliana. "That was the day I became a paladin, dedicated to fighting evil, to hunting murderers and heretics and weredragons. That was the day I stepped onto a path that led me to you, my daughter."
The baby gurgled and reached out her small, pudgy fingers. Mercy held her close, rocking her gently.
"I love you, little Eliana," Mercy whispered. "You are mine now. You will always be mine. You will grow to become a paladin too, then a High Priestess someday. The Cured Temple, the city, the entire empire will be yours. And you will grow up in a world without weredragons. I swear this to you. I'm going to find them. I'm going to find Cade and all the rest of them, and I will kill them. I will kill them all for you, my sweetness, so that the column will finally fall, so that the Spirit can descend into the world and fill you with his light."
Suddenly Mercy froze.
She stared down at the grave.
Fill you with his light.
Her legs began to shake. Her mother had raised the bones of dead firedrakes and dead paladins, giving them a glowing heart of the god's light. Could . . . could Beatrix raise her too, raise Mercy's daughter, fill her bones with light and . . .<
br />
"No," Mercy whispered. "Spirit, no."
She could not request this. Or could she? Would she dare to see it, the bones of her child animated, screeching, hunting . . . alive again?
Mercy felt tears on her cheeks. She wanted this. She wanted a life for the babe again, no matter how perverse. She was her daughter! Her daughter! She had seen Beatrix raising the dead before. Mercy could do it too. She knew how, she--
She spun around, shaking wildly.
"She's dead," she whispered, jaw clenched. "She's dead and we must forget her, Eliana. We must. We must. We will never think of her again. You are my only daughter now."
Before temptation could strike her again, Mercy marched out of the cemetery.
She walked through the city of Nova Vita. It was a harsh winter, and ice coated the cobblestones, and snow piled high upon the domes of huts, and everywhere she saw the bonedrakes. The creatures perched upon steeples, domes, and walls. They circled above in the sky, bones creaking, the light of the Spirit pulsing within them. Hundreds flew around the Cured Temple ahead, crying out their strange, unearthly cries, the voices of the dead. The dead had risen. The dead had come to fight for life.
And soon other bones would replace those torn from the earth. Soon she, Mercy Deus, would slay the weredragons. Soon the light, this light that thrummed within the ribcages of dead dragons, would fill the world, searing all evil, all pain, and all memory.
Mercy entered the Temple, entered her chambers, and laid Eliana down in her bed. Then she stood at the window, staring outside at the city, the snow, the countless bonedrakes that flew upon the wind.
"You're coming here, weredragons," Mercy whispered. "And you're with them, Gemini. I know this. And I'm waiting for you. Come to me, heretics. Come to die like Roen died. Like my daughter died. This is a city of bones, and that is what you will become: dead bones, dry and bleached in the sun." She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. "Nothing but bones."
DOMI
She was flying toward the mountains, her journey almost over, when twenty bonedrakes rose from the snowy peaks and flew toward her.
"More of the damn creatures!" Gemini shouted on her back. "Spirit damn it. Turn to escape, Domi! Fly away!"
Domi stared ahead in horror. She had been fighting and fleeing these creatures all across the skies of the Commonwealth. She had slain a few, fled from most, and her body still bore the wounds of those battles. And twenty--a full twenty!--now flew toward her. She had barely defeated the last single bonedrake to attack. She could not defeat this many.
"Domi, turn and fly away!" Gemini screamed from the saddle, spurring her. "What are you waiting for?"
Yet how could Domi flee now? Ahead were the Dair Ranin mountains! The ruins of Draco Murus lay there, the place where she was meant to meet the others. She had to reach those mountains. She had to find her sister, her father, Cade, and Roen. She couldn't flee. She--
The bonedrakes ahead flew closer, opened their jaws, and blasted their beams of light.
Domi screamed and soared higher, dodging the rays.
"Domi, turn around and fly back south!" Gemini cried. "Oh Spirit, Domi!"
She soared higher, trying to gaze toward the distant mountains. The bonedrakes came soaring up after her. On their backs, the skeletal paladins raised their lances. More beams of light shot forth, and Domi banked and swerved in the sky. One beam hit her tail, and she screamed in pain. She nearly fell but she forced herself to keep flying, to rise higher, to gaze toward the mountains.
"Fidelity!" she shouted. "Cade! Father! Can you hear me?"
The bonedrakes flew toward her, gaining on her, and she was flying too high, too high for Gemini to survive the cold thin air. She growled and swooped, swerving between beams of light, dodging bonedrakes that flew from every side.
"Fidelity! It's Domi! Are you here?"
She heard no reply, and Domi wanted to flee now, but it was too late. The bonedrakes surrounded her, moving closer on every side, cackling, prepared to shoot forth their light and slay her.
Roars.
Roars rose from the north, tearing across the sky.
Fire blazed.
Domi stared north and her eyes watered. She laughed in joy.
Four dragons came flying toward the battle, blowing dragonfire.
"Cade!" Domi cried out. "Sister! Father! Amity!"
The four came charging forward, their flames blasting against the bonedrakes. The undead dragons screeched, turned in the sky, and blasted their beams of light against this new threat.
Domi winced, expecting to see the beams sear through her fellow dragons. But she gasped. The beams indeed hit the dragons, but they did not burn them. The rays or light glanced off translucent armor like panes of glass. No, not glass but scales! Many transparent scales! The dragons seemed coated with this clear shield, and the light bounced off the scales to scatter in every direction, breaking apart.
The dragons kept flying, and their dragonfire crashed into the bonedrakes.
Domi blew her own dragonfire.
The bonedrakes screeched in the inferno but did not burn. Their bones thinned in the heat but did not crumble. The undead beasts burst out from the flames and shone their light again. Again the beams crashed against the invisible scales the dragons wore.
"Fly back, Quilty!" Cade cried. "We'll take care of them."
"Don't call me that, Goldy!"
The golden dragon flew high, turned in the sky, and plunged down toward a firedrake. Before he could hit the skeletal creature, Cade became a human again and thrust down a sharpened stick. The spear glanced off the bonedrake's spine, slid between its ribs, and pierced its heart of light.
The light exploded, shattering bones and sending ribs flying out. The bone fragments crashed down toward the mountains.
Across the battle, the other dragons were doing the same. They all landed onto bonedrakes, returned to human forms, stabbed the luminous hearts with spears, then flew again. They darted from bonedrake to bonedrake, and the beams of light kept bouncing off their glassy armor.
"Gemini, your lance!" Domi shouted.
"Let the others take care of it!" Gemini shouted back.
"Your lance or I'm going to burn you!"
Domi growled and shot forward. She wore none of that magical armor--whatever it was made of--but she would not shy away from a fight. She roared as she shot toward a bonedrake, skirting its beam of light. A second before she could crash into the beast, Domi swerved to fly past it.
"Your lance!" she shouted.
From her saddle, Gemini thrust the weapon.
The lance drove between the bonedrake's ribs and into its glowing heart. Domi soared as the light exploded, scattering bones.
All across the sky, more hearts burst and more bones crashed down toward the mountains.
Finally the sky was cleared. All the bonedrakes lay below upon the snowy mountaintops as piles of bones.
The dragons spiraled downward, landed on a snowy peak, and returned to human forms, and Domi knew nothing but embraces, tears, laughter, joy, and family.
"I'm here," she whispered. "I'm finally here."
They took turns pulling her into their arms, nearly crushing her, laughing, weeping, speaking of their love. Domi lowered her head and wept to hear of Roen's passing, and she hugged her family again, and their warmth and love filled her. She knew that for the rest of her life she would remember this moment--a reunion, a gathering, all the Vir Requis in the world gathered in their ancient homeland for the first time.
"We stand on the old holy ground of Requiem," Domi whispered. "All of us. For this moment, here on this mountain, Requiem lives."
Then she laughed as Fidelity tugged her back into an embrace, and they all fell into the snow, gazed up at the sky, and for a brief morning they knew peace, and they knew joy.
"Thank the stars you're here, Domi," Cade whispered, lying at her side. He kissed her cheek. "I was so worried."
She held him, resting her head against his
shoulder. "Sweet little Goldy." Tears stung her eyes, and she remembered making love to him so long ago--only months ago, yet it felt like the passage of eras. "You always worry too much." She squeezed his hand. "I was worried too. I love you, Goldy. You know that, right?"
Cade squeezed her hand back. "I love you too, Quilty. Always."
As she lay in the snow, her sister to one side and Cade to the other, Domi turned her head, and she saw that Gemini stood apart from the others. The young paladin, unable to become a dragon, was clenching his fists, and his eyes burned with rage, jealousy, hatred.
"Gemini?" Domi said. "Gemini, we found them! We're together now. We can fight together now. Gemini?"
The outcast paladin said nothing. He turned away and walked a few paces down the mountain. He stood staring south, and when he finally turned back, his eyes were red, and his lips trembled.
"Enough of this," Gemini said, and his voice cracked. "I didn't fly here to see this. We are together now, and we must fly. Fly to war. To crush the bonedrakes around the Temple." His fists shook. "I have no family waiting for me, no family to embrace me or cry for me." He smiled a cruel, twisted smile. "But I will see my family again . . . and I will kill them."
Domi approached him slowly. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let us be your family," she whispered.
Gemini snorted and shoved her hand away. "I don't need your pity. Remember this, Domi." He raised his voice to a shout. "Remember this all of you! I am your lord! I will rule the Temple, and only by my grace will you have a kingdom. Now shift, fly! I order you!" He laughed bitterly even as tears flowed down his cheeks. "The time for hiding has ended. It's time to fly to the capital and to blow our dragonfire."
KORVIN
As the others huddled in the cellar, drawing up their plans of attack on the Cured Temple, Korvin stood outside upon the snowy mountaintop and stared south.
They each had their own reasons to fight, Korvin knew. Fidelity fought for her dream of rebuilding Requiem, the legendary land she had spent her life reading about, dreaming about, and she fought for Roen, for the memory of her fallen beloved. Domi fought for her years of pain, a firedrake enslaved in the Temple, beaten and whipped and spurred. Cade fought for revenge, the death of his stepparents still burning inside him, and for a chance to save Eliana, the babe kidnapped and imprisoned in those marble halls. Amity too fought for revenge--for the death of her parents, for the death of her army, countless lives lost in the Horde.
Dragons Rising Page 13