Dragons Rising
Page 16
More bonedrakes flew toward them. The two dragons breathed their fire and lashed their claws, knocking the beasts aside.
We have to reach the Temple! Fidelity knew. We have to burn Beatrix. We have to--
Deafening shrieks rose from below, nearly shattering her eardrums. Fidelity screamed.
The light from below parted.
From the Temple's steeples soared two bonedrakes, different from the others. Their bones were blackened with fire, and shreds of flesh still clung to them. They appeared fresher, no more than a month or two dead. When they opened their jaws, no beams of light left them but roaring white fire.
The flames hit Fidelity, and she screamed in agony.
The fire was hotter than what any dragon could blow. It blasted against Fidelity's armor, melting the demon's scales, then burning her own scales beneath. It was dragonfire mixed with Spirit light, tearing apart the air. Fidelity cried out, barely able to beat her wings. She dipped in the sky. Amity fell with her, crying out in pain.
The two bonedrakes below screeched again, cries that sounded almost human, almost forming a word.
"Fiiiiii!" they seemed to cry. "Fiiityyy!"
Fidelity screamed and lashed her claws against them. They scraped against bone, and the creatures snapped at her, biting, clawing. Her blood spilled.
"Fiiii!" the dragon skeletons cried. "Fiii . . . de . . . tyyy!"
Tears filled her eyes.
They know my name.
She roared in rage.
How do they know my name?
The anger flared through her. She raged against the light of the Spirit. She raged against the perversion that raised bones from the earth. She raged against the fall of Requiem, the cruelty of the Temple, the death of Roen and Julian that still filled her heart with mourning. Fidelity raged and blasted her fire and lashed her claws, fighting in a fury, tearing at these dragon skeletons, smashing their bones, burning them, cutting them.
"Die!" she screamed, tears in her eyes, fire roaring. "Die and fall as bones!"
She lashed her tail mightily, driving the spikes into a bonedrake's skull.
The bonedrake lost its magic.
It became a human skeleton and fell.
Fidelity stared and gasped.
"It . . . it became human."
The human skeleton, tumbling down, still had a long bushy beard, still wore the garb of the forest. It reached out to Fidelity as it fell, crying out in pain.
"Fiiiility!"
The skeleton slammed against the Temple's steeples and shattered.
And Fidelity knew who it was.
"Julian," she whispered.
The second blackened bonedrake flew toward her, still in dragon form, still calling out her name. Fidelity's tears streamed. She saw a few last remnants of scales on the dragon's skeleton. Green scales.
Roen.
Fidelity wept.
"Roen!"
With a roar, Amity charged forth, blasting fire, and slammed into Roen's skeleton. The red dragon lashed her claws and snapped her jaws, gripping bones and tearing them out.
"Amity, no!" Fidelity cried, weeping and trembling in the sky. She wanted Roen to die. She wanted this perversion of life to fall and shatter. But she could not bear it. She could not bear to see her beloved cry out in pain.
I have to bury him. I have to . . .
Weeping, Fidelity charged forth and grabbed Amity.
"Stop, don't!" she cried, tugging Amity back. "It's not a bonedrake! It's--"
As bonedrakes and dragons fought all around them, the creature that had been Roen roared. Several of his bones were shattered, but the pulsing heart of Spirit's light still thrummed within his rib cage.
"Fiiilety!" he screeched in an astral voice. "Fiiiileeeti, ffffly!"
The dragon skeleton seemed torn, not sure where to fly. Bloody tears poured from the skull's empty eye sockets. And then he charged toward her, blasting out white fire.
Fidelity screamed as Roen's flames washed over her.
Bony claws grabbed her. Fleshless jaws bit her. Roen's skeleton was tearing into her, ripping her apart, feeding upon her.
Fidelity wept and bled.
She fell from the sky.
KORVIN
Dragons fell around him. Bonedrakes swarmed. Light flared. And Korvin flew through the inferno toward his old lover, toward the tyrant who crushed the world under her heel, toward the woman he must kill, toward Beatrix.
He slammed into a bonedrake, shattering its bones. He kept diving. Arrows flew toward him, clattering against his armor. He roared and blasted fire, roasting the archers on the Temple steeples, and kept descending toward the balcony. He saw Beatrix standing there, a small smile on her face. She still held the babe in her arms. Mercy stood behind the High Priestess, clad as always in her pale paladin armor.
Korvin roared and reached out his claws. He couldn't blow his fire here. He couldn't hurt Eliana. But if he could reach Beatrix, if he could grab her . . .
Light blasted him. Claws tore at him. Bonedrake jaws closed around his wings, tugging him back. Korvin stretched out his claws, only yards away from the balcony, reaching out to her . . .
Beatrix stood below, smiling up at him. She handed the baby to Mercy. The paladin took the child and stepped back into the Temple.
"Hello again, my lover!" Beatrix shouted and raised her hands toward him.
Two beams of light blasted out from Beatrix's palms.
Korvin roared.
The light crashed against him like war hammers, stronger than beams from bonedrake jaws. His armor shattered and fell like shards of glass. The beams wrapped around him, tugging him down, yanking his magic from him.
Korvin fell in human form.
He crashed against the balcony, cracking his steel armor. His blood spilled.
The world was nothing but light, blood in his eyes, matted hair, screams. Everywhere screams. Everywhere the light of the Spirit, the light of Requiem's fall.
The Falling begins.
Beatrix came to stand above him. She wore the white robes of the priesthood, not bothering to clad herself in armor. She needed no armor today. With the Column close to cracking, with the Spirit so close to entering the world, power and light thrummed across the High Priestess. For the first time in over twenty years, Korvin stared into her eyes.
He saw hatred.
He saw madness.
And he saw glee.
In his memory, he still saw the idealistic, bright-eyed young priestess he had known, a woman devoted to her faith and devoted to him. Overlaying that memory he saw the Beatrix she had become: a tyrant consumed with light she could no longer control, a righteousness so all-consuming it seared away all empathy, leaving only rigid evil.
"Beatrix," he said hoarsely, barely able to push the words past his lips. "Beatrix, you cannot control this light. It's consuming you."
She laughed. The light flared across her, flowing through her, until he could see her bones as if she too were a skeleton. Her skull laughed within her pale skin, and her heart thrummed, pure white and blasting out heat.
"Beatrix," Korvin whispered, struggling to rise to his feet. Bleeding, he reached out to her. "Beatrix, I saved you once from a crowd that tried to stone you. Let me save you now. Let me save you from the Spirit's light." That light burned his eyes, burned his skin. "The Spirit is no friend of yours, Beatrix. He does not love you but seeks to burn you, to flow through you into the world. You must stop. You must--"
She kicked him. He fell to his knees before her on the balcony, his blood dripping around him.
"Yes, kneel before me, Korvin!" she said. "Kneel, weredragon! I am a conduit to the Spirit's light. I would gladly give my life for the Spirit to enter the world through my body. And you too will give your life to the Spirit, Korvin. You too will die in this light--die here on this balcony as the crowd roars. Guards, grab him!"
Soldiers rushed forth with clubs. They beat him. He fell, crying out. They chained him. They dragged him to
the edge of the balcony. Korvin kicked wildly, unable to free himself. He bellowed out his rage. He tried to shift back into a dragon but could not; the chains bound him in his human form.
"Let the crowd see him!" Beatrix cried.
Above in the sky, bonedrakes and firedrakes and dragons still flew. Fire and light swirled, hiding the sky. Screeches tore through the air. As the battle raged, the soldiers of the Spirit dragged Korvin to the balcony's ledge. They tossed him down, letting the chains yank taut, holding him dangling above the square below.
Many in the crowd had fled the square, but many remained, and more kept returning. They pointed at Korvin and the battle above.
"Behold Korvin, King of Reptiles!" Beatrix cried, and her voice rose inhumanly high, a sound like shattering glass, like a bonedrake scream. "Behold the weredragon! Watch him die!"
Korvin dangled in his chains, kicking the air. One chain tightened around his neck, nearly constricting him. He gasped, unable to speak, barely able to breathe. The world spun all around him: the crowd below, the Temple behind him, the battle above. He could no longer see the other dragons. Where were his daughters? Where was Amity?
I'm the last, he thought. I'm the last living dragon. And now I die in the light.
Beatrix leaned over the balcony toward him, a thin smile on her lips.
"Yes, you will die now," she said. "But you won't remain dead for long, my lover. You will live again." Her smile tightened, becoming a terrible thing, stretching her cheeks--a demonic grin. "Your bones will burn . . . then rise."
His eyes rolled back. He gasped for breath. The world went dark.
DOMI
As the battle raged around her, a handful of dragons fighting an army of bonedrakes, Domi darted between the enemies, flying away from the fray.
"Domi!" Amity cried behind her. "Domi, get your scaly arse back here! Help us fight!"
But Domi kept flying away. She narrowed her eyes. She gritted her teeth.
I'm sorry, Amity. I'm sorry, my family. She kept flying, knocking bonedrakes aside, diving from the battle toward the courtyard. I must do this.
The Square of the Spirit spread below, full of Nova Vita's citizens and soldiers. Many had fled when Requiem had first attacked, but people were now returning to watch the spectacle, to behold the Falling they believed was coming. Domi roared as she dived and blasted down dragonfire. The inferno crashed against cobblestones next to the Temple staircase, sending city folk scurrying back.
Domi landed in the square, claws clattering, tail lashing. People gasped and fled. Here was the very place Domi would land so often as Pyre, a firedrake returning home. The Cured Temple loomed above her, beams of light blasting out from it, smoke churning, fire blazing. Soldiers came racing down the staircase toward Domi, firing arrows. The missiles peppered Domi's armor. She roared her fire across the stairs, and the soldiers screamed and fell, burning.
A bonedrake flew down toward her, jaws opening. Domi swung her tail and shattered its skull. Its teeth clattered against the courtyard. More bonedrakes came flying down toward her.
Domi blasted fire upward, holding them back, and ran. Her claws scratched the cobblestones. Her tail lashed behind her. She blew dragonfire forward, knocking down more soldiers, and raced over their burning corpses. There, past smoke and flame, she saw it: the tunnel.
She lashed her claws, knocking a bonedrake aside. She yowled as an arrow sank into her tail. She kept running, clinging with all her might to her dragon form, and entered the tunnel.
She raced through the darkness, claws clattering against the stone floor. Her fire lit the darkness. More arrows flew from behind her. Some sank through her armor to nick her scales. She turned her head over her shoulder and blasted fire behind her, burning soldiers. She turned back ahead and kept running.
She burst into the vast chamber hidden beneath the Cured Temple like stony bowels--the place where Domi had lived for years. Cells lined the walls, each the size of a house. Inside each cell, secured behind bars, they were roaring.
Her old comrades. The firedrakes.
The banged against the bars, crying out to her, to the old alpha of their pack--to Pyre. They did not know her as Domi. They did not know her to be Vir Requis. To these mindless dragons, Vir Requis with their human forms burnt out, she was still one of them--still Pyre, the firedrake who had borne Mercy Deus upon her back, leading them in battle.
"Firedrakes!" Domi cried, speaking the word through her dragon jaws. They had never heard her speak before, but today she would have to make them obey. "Firedrakes, we fly!"
They screeched, banging against the bars of their cells, hearing the battle outside, desperate to join.
"Fly with me, firedrakes!" Domi said. "With me, with Pyre, to fire, to war!"
She shifted into human form, raced toward the wall where the keys hung from a peg, and ran through the chamber, unlocking the cellar doors. The firedrakes roared, the sound echoing, as they emerged from their cells.
"Down!" she cried to them. "Down, drakes!"
They were confused. They did not understand where Pyre had gone, why a human now stood before them. Yet they heard the authority in her voice. They knelt before her, filling the chamber with smoke.
When the last cell was opened, Domi shifted back into a dragon--back into Pyre.
"Fly with me, firedrakes!" she said. "I led you once as Pyre. I will lead you again. With me! To war!"
They beat their wings and roared. Fire filled their gullets. Domi led them, Pyre again, racing up the tunnel. She blazed out her dragonfire; it raged through the tunnel. Behind her, the firedrakes ran, their wings scraping against the walls, their claws scratching along the floor, their smoke blasting out.
Domi burst out of the tunnel and back into the courtyard, roared her fire, and soared.
"With me, firedrakes!" She flew up in a straight line, blowing her dragonfire. "Slay the bonedrakes! Slay them dead!"
Beams of light flared across the sky. Bonedrakes came plunging from above, claws extended, light blasting down. Domi kept soaring and her dragonfire streamed. Behind her, the firedrakes of the Cured Temple flew, following their old leader, and their dragonfire rose like the columns of a burning cathedral.
Light and fire, bonedrakes and firedrakes, death and life crashed together.
GEMINI
As blood rained, Gemini flew on his brother through a sky of holy light and fire.
"There!" Gemini pointed his lance. "Higher! That window there!"
Below him, Cade flew through the battle. The golden dragon was quick and agile, almost as quick as Domi. A bonedrake flew toward them, and Cade soared and bathed it with fire. Gemini leaped up in the saddle, thrust his lance, and pierced the creature's heart. He tugged the lance free an instant before the drake shattered. They soared higher, then dipped to dodge a hailstorm of arrows from one of the Temple's steeples. They kept flying.
"Which window?" Cade shouted over the roar of battle. "I see a hundred windows!"
"That one!" Gemini shouted. "Spirit damn it, the . . . the one under the crystal steeple! No, three windows down. I--damn it!"
Another bonedrake flew toward them. When Gemini tried to stab it, his lance caught between its ribs and shattered in a shower of sparks. The bonedrake lashed out its claws, and Gemini screamed. The claws tore through his armor and bit the flesh. He drew his sword and stabbed blindly. It took a swipe of Cade's tail to crush the creature's spine and send it falling down.
"Gemini, are you all right?" Cade said, glancing over his shoulder at the blood.
Gemini clutched his wound. "Keep flying! That window there. That's Mercy chamber."
The golden dragon nodded and flew onward. He grabbed the rim of a window--the wrong one!--and Gemini cursed and directed him one story up.
"You got it!" Gemini said. "Now climb in after me."
He leaped off the saddle, climbed along Cade's neck, and stumbled into the room.
Gemini froze, sword raised.
A shaking sneer fo
und his lips.
"Mercy," he whispered.
His sister stood at the back of the chamber. While Gemini was covered in blood and soot, Mercy looked resplendent. Her white armor was polished, and golden filigree shone upon it. The left side of her head was neatly shaven. The remaining hair was swept across her right shoulder, freshly bleached. In her left arm, Mercy held Eliana. In her right hand, she held a drawn sword.
Cade climbed into the chamber too, back in his human form. He still wore his transparent, demon-scale armor over his burlap tunic, and he held a sword. He stared ahead at Mercy and Eliana and froze, face pale.
"And so . . . the three Deus siblings," Mercy said softly, a small smile on her lips. "Together at the same place for the first time. At least, the first time since you were about this size, Cade." She raised Eliana higher, bringing the babe dangerously close to her drawn blade.
Cade had taken half a step closer but froze. "Let her go, Mercy," he said, his own sword raised. "Don't you dare harm her."
"Step back, both of you!" Mercy brought the blade down to rest against Eliana. "Step back or I'll cut her before I cut you too."
Gemini's head spun. His knees wobbled. Blood kept dripping down his leg. He was hurt, maybe badly. Yet he fixed Mercy with a stare, and he barked a laugh.
"You won't harm her!" Gemini said. "You treat the babe as your daughter. A new babe to replace your own dead daughter."
"And I would gladly sacrifice my daughter to the Spirit!" Mercy spat back. "You know this, brother." She spun toward Cade. "And you know this too, my other brother. I've sacrificed many babes to the Spirit's light. I would give even my own daughter to his glory. Stand back! Leave this city or Eliana dies."
Cade wouldn't budge. He stood frozen between Mercy and the window. "Your own daughter?" he said. "Mercy, she's not yours! Eliana is the daughter of Derin and Tisha, two humble bakers whom you murdered. And do not call me brother. You're no sister of mine. But Eliana is. Hand her to me and I'll spare your life. I will allow you to leave this city and fly into exile."
Rage flared in Gemini to hear his brother's words. To let Mercy escape? To let her fly into exile? She would fly to Terra! She would summon her army there and fly back here to reclaim the Temple--to kill him!