by Chris Bunch
"Very still," Gorumna said. "Trying to think like rocks, not people."
"I thought about working up some sort of spell that might make them overlook us," Scothi continued. "But I was afraid of using magic.
"I could scent… well, not scent, but feel wizardry all around me, but didn't feel like there was any being cast. Maybe the remnants of magic? I'm not sure about this.
"At any rate, we watched on, saw nothing much in particular, except, Lord Kailas, as you thought, there were no more dragons arriving from any other places."
"It was eerie, watching them," Gorumna added. "When they ate, it wasn't with any kind of joy. Like they were just taking on fuel.
"They didn't sleep much, but when they did, they just stopped in their tracks, not trying to make any sort of bed, like real dragons do."
"The next day," Scothi said, "our third in the hide, was when we saw that ring of fire appear that you said you'd seen.
"Four dragons went through the ring, three came back out. Sorry. I meant, three came out. We couldn't tell whether they were the same ones or not.
"Then the ring closed. I didn't see any of the dragons making magic, or any signs of a spell being cast, so if there was one, I'd guess it'd be on the other side.
"The fourth day there was nothing, but the dragons seemed more suspicious, flying close around their home.
"But they didn't come any closer to our hill than they'd done before, so we didn't try to flee.
"Then, the fifth day, the ring appeared again.
"And something strange.
"Something came out of the ring, something that looked like a man."
Hal jerked closer.
"But a crude sort of man, like something a kid would make out of clay," Gorumna said.
"It walked around, stumbling, as if it wasn't used to walking, then went back through the ring, and the ring vanished again."
"We figured that was enough," Scothi said, "and it was time for us to leave."
"We'd no more than twitched the stick, and started backing out of our bush," Gorumna said, "than all of the bastards took off, as if they'd seen us. But there wasn't any way they could've.
"We ran hard, before they got height, figuring on trying for that hilltop you dropped us off on.
"But they were above us, and so we went on down, into a valley.
"They came down after us, flying close, trying to grab us, but we'd go flat when they came in, and warn the other when one of them was trying for us."
"Gorumna shot one down with his bow," Scothi said, "and that made them back off for a bit.
"I had an idea, and used my flint to spark a pile of dry brush into life, remembering how dragons, real dragons, don't seem to like fire much.
"It flared up like we'd thrown brandy on it, and two of the dragons who'd come in low got caught in the flare."
"They took fire like they were tinderwood," Gorumna said with satisfaction. "Smoke boiled up, and the dragons pulled up, and circled, a little cautious now."
"That gave us time to get to the next ridge," Scothi said. "And then you were coming, and… well, that was that.
"I hope we saw some things that'll be useful."
Both the scouts looked at Hal pleadingly.
"What was that thing that looked like a man?" Gorumna asked.
Hal considered, the flicker of an idea just surfacing.
"One of the demons?" Farren Mariah suggested. "Or the main demon himself?"
"No," Hal said, and it came to him.
"The demons that look like dragons came to this land not knowing anything," he said slowly. "Not who or what was the power here, or what form they should take to rule.
"The strongest thing was the dragons. So…"
"So that was the form they chose," Bodrugan said.
"Until we came along." Farren Mariah had also gotten it.
"Maybe so," Hal agreed. "I think so."
"So now," Hachir said, "we've seen a baby man. The more they're around us, the more they can learn from us, the more like men they'll look."
"Plus having whatever powers they've got of their own," Hal said.
"Which means we've got to stop them now. Before they get any stronger."
"Or," Farren Mariah said, "figure out some shape that's to Man like Man is to a dragon."
"All we have to do," Aimard Quesney said, "is work out how."
Hal jerked closer.
"But a crude sort of man, like something a kid would make out of clay," Gorumna said.
"It walked around, stumbling, as if it wasn't used to walking, then went back through the ring, and the ring vanished again."
"We figured that was enough," Scothi said, "and it was time for us to leave."
"We'd no more than twitched the stick, and started backing out of our bush," Gorumna said, "than all of the bastards took off, as if they'd seen us. But there wasn't any way they could've.
"We ran hard, before they got height, figuring on trying for that hilltop you dropped us off on.
"But they were above us, and so we went on down, into a valley.
"They came down after us, flying close, trying to grab us, but we'd go flat when they came in, and warn the other when one of them was trying for us."
"Gorumna shot one down with his bow," Scothi said, "and that made them back off for a bit.
"I had an idea, and used my flint to spark a pile of dry brush into life, remembering how dragons, real dragons, don't seem to like fire much.
"It flared up like we'd thrown brandy on it, and two of the dragons who'd come in low got caught in the flare."
"They took fire like they were tinderwood," Gorumna said with satisfaction. "Smoke boiled up, and the dragons pulled up, and circled, a little cautious now."
"That gave us time to get to the next ridge," Scothi said. "And then you were coming, and… well, that was that.
"I hope we saw some things that'll be useful."
Both the scouts looked at Hal pleadingly.
"What was that thing that looked like a man?" Gorumna asked.
Hal considered, the flicker of an idea just surfacing.
"One of the demons?" Farren Mariah suggested. "Or the main demon himself?"
"No," Hal said, and it came to him.
"The demons that look like dragons came to this land not knowing anything," he said slowly. "Not who or what was the power here, or what form they should take to rule.
"The strongest thing was the dragons. So…"
"So that was the form they chose," Bodrugan said.
"Until we came along." Farren Mariah had also gotten it.
"Maybe so," Hal agreed. "I think so."
"So now," Hachir said, "we've seen a baby man. The more they're around us, the more they can learn from us, the more like men they'll look."
"Plus having whatever powers they've got of their own," Hal said.
"Which means we've got to stop them now. Before they get any stronger."
"Or," Farren Mariah said, "figure out some shape that's to Man like Man is to a dragon."
"All we have to do," Aimard Quesney said, "is work out how."
34
"A minor, minnyscule matter," Farren Mariah said.
"We know they don't like fire," Kimana said.
"I somehow don't think my dragon'll take kindly to my mounting up with a torch between my teeth," Mariah said. "Let alone how I'm to get close enough to the enemy beasties to apply it liberally to their heads and shoulders."
"Magic," a flier suggested, looking hopefully at Bodrugan.
"Magic how?" the wizard said.
"That's your department," Farren Mariah said breezily.
"At which I'm blank, so far. Sorry."
Hal happened to look up, and saw the three young dragons, huddled close together, about halfway down the rise, looking as solemn as young owls.
"This is getting us nowhere quickly," he said. "Let's eat, put our heads down, and be ready to hit them at dawn."
A chill wind was blowing of
f the ocean as the thirteen dragons flew north before dawn.
Hal wondered if the wind would blow their scent to the red and blacks, decided that was stupid—they were flying faster than any wind.
As the foothills rose, they turned slightly to the west, to come in on the demons' valley from out of the rising sun, and climbed.
Hal didn't want to take them too high, hoping to catch the red and blacks still asleep, and have the advantage of height.
He motioned as the first rays caught them, and the formation obediently closed up.
Hal was about to put Storm into a shallow dive when someone blatted on a trumpet.
It was Kimana, giving the alarm.
The red and blacks were already in the air, high above them and diving, coming in fast.
There was no time for tactics.
Hal kicked Storm into a sharp bank, tried climbing, and a red and black tore past him, talons reaching for Storm and missing.
A ridden dragon flopped past him.
Hal couldn't tell for an instant who the rider was… had been, for he was without a head.
Then he recognized the tatters of uniform on the body.
Miletus, his first squadron commander.
But there was no time for the dead.
Two dragons were on Storm's flanks, harrying at him. Storm thrashed his tail, and one dropped back.
Then Kimana was there, on the nearest, wings smashing at the red and black.
It screamed, rolled on its back, and Kimana's dragon ripped its stomach open.
The other dragon closed, and Hal put Storm into a tight turn. The red and black banked as well, and Hal kept his bank, pulling hard on Storm's reins, trying to turn inside the other dragon.
The bank was tight enough for Hal's vision to gray around the edges, and he could feel Storm losing altitude.
The other dragon was turning, turning, and now Storm was behind it, ducking the whisking tail.
The red and black held its turn, and Hal stayed behind it. He was able to force his hands up against the pull of gravity, aim his crossbow, and fire a bolt. It hit the red and black near its left wing root, hardly a death blow, and again the turn tightened.
Hal caught a flash of green below him, to his right. They were very close to the ground. He yanked at Storm's reins, and the dragon rolled out of its bank as the red and black, still at a tight angle, scraped the ground with its wing, and bounced and rolled to its death and explosion.
Hal forgot about it, saw another dragon diving down, and cocked and fired. He hit it, he thought, and the demon hurtled on and slammed into a rocky outcropping.
Storm climbed back to the heights. The battle was still a roiling chaos—Hal guessed that all or most of the seventy red and blacks were in the air, and battering at his slender force.
He saw another of his dragons in a long dive, its rider lolling in the saddle. This one was a green and white one, freshly trained, he remembered, though he couldn't recall the rider for the moment.
A red and black was chasing it down, snarling at its rear legs, and Hal put a crossbow bolt through its neck.
The red and blacks were forcing Hal's dragons down toward the ground, and it was time to break free.
Which would have been a neat trick, if he could figure out how to do it.
Hal sent Storm down toward the ground, hoping he could find a defile they could fly into to escape the trap.
He saw something better—a field of waving dry grasses, and the idea struck him.
He drove Storm down, brought his head back to force the dragon to land.
Storm didn't want to, not with enemies in the air, but, whining, he obeyed.
Hal slid out of the saddle, reaching in his belt pouch, found fire-making materials.
Clumsy with haste and fear, not wanting to look up to see the demons diving on him, he struck steel against flint, saw sparks, did it again, and fire glowed in the dry grass. He blew on it, and it flared up, and he fed it more grass, ripping it up with his hands.
Then he had a proper fire, and Storm was screeching at him.
Another rider, Bodrugan, saw what he was doing, and landed clumsily, still not much more than a student.
His arms began waving in a spell, and the flames grew.
Kailas was back in the saddle, and whipping Storm with the reins. The dragon stumbled down the slight slope as the fire built, and they were in the air once again.
Now the battle was at low level, the red and blacks chasing the others around the contours of the hills.
The fire roared higher, and then there was a pillar of smoke.
Hal blew frantically on his trumpet, beckoned, and his fliers saw him, understood, and flew toward the fire, through the smoke. Then they were through, and fleeing west, the fire a backstop, making the red and blacks climb over it.
But Hal's men and women were gone, dots against the plains, heading west until they saw nothing in the skies behind them, before turning for their valley.
One by one, they reached it, exhausted, barely able to stumble from their saddles as the few handlers tried to help.
Now Hal remembered who had ridden the green and white.
Hachir, the one-time teacher and archer, whose life had been shattered.
Three others, including Miletus, had died that day, almost a third of his fliers.
Hal was well and truly defeated.
The day went, handily, to the demons.
35
Hal didn't have much time to mourn his dead as the night closed on them.
The dragons were washed and fed, and then the men. The two low cooking fires permitted before dusk were guttering down as the shadows grew into each other. Hal sat at a distance from the others, staring at the embers.
He'd certainly been defeated before. But he couldn't remember a time when victory had been so important, although there'd been several wartime battles he'd thought vital.
Never before had he faced an enemy who, victorious, would not only dominate this land, but, if his thinking about the new homunculus was correct, might conquer all.
Looking at the dying fires, he chewed and swallowed his tasteless dinner, wondering why the gods hadn't given him a better mind.
He knew what might destroy the demons—the fire that had given them birth—but not how to use it.
And then, in the middle of his agonizing, it came to him.
He called Bodrugan over.
The others, hearing the note in his voice, looked up, waiting.
Hal took only a few seconds to explain to the magician.
"It could work," Bodrugan said. "If my spell is as good as it was before."
During the war, Hal had had the idea of dropping boulders on the Roche. The only problem, of course, was that dragons weren't cargo-carrying beasts.
But Hal's idea had been to shatter a great boulder, and have a wizard cast a spell on the pieces, which potentially were the whole, so that when each pebble was thrown by a dragon flier, it would become the size of its "father."
The spell worked perfectly, and Roche cities were knocked into shambles.
Bodrugan went to work, and in about two hours he had a spell.
"I'd like an assistant," he said.
"Farren," Hal said. "You've a bit of the talent. Help the man, if you would."
"I'm tired of being volunteered," Mariah growled, but obeyed.
Bodrugan had seen some red flowers in the valley, and men were sent to bring them in.
Flint and steel were positioned, and a stack of brushwood was built in front of them, the flowers in odd patterns around it.
Hal didn't like doing this, fearing there'd be red and black dragons about, but saw no other options.
Crossbow bolts were brought, and laid in circles, heads touching, around the brushwood.
Then the fire was touched off.
As it built, Bodrugan began chanting, while Mariah lifted the bolts, as if making an offertory, then set them down.
Remember
Wh
at took you
Changed you
Made you elemental
Reaching out
Finding
Base power
FeelingBuilding…
p>The fire was now roaring, reaching far into the night sky, beyond what the fuel could have given.
Hal looked beyond it. In the darkness, eyes gleamed; the three dragon kits had drawn close to the men and were watching.
Growing
Reaching far to
Change
What you touch
What you hurt
Blood
Or what is used as
Blood
Blood to fire
Blood to fire
Blood to fire
Reach
Remember
And slay.
Very suddenly, the fire died to embers, and went out.
"Well?" Farren asked.
Bodrugan held out his hands.
"I don't know. The proof will be in the testing."
"And if it doesn't work… aarh. My grandfather's spells didn't always sing, either. Sing or singe," Mariah muttered.
But that was the best that could be done.
Hal said stand-to would be three hours before dawn, and gave his simple orders for the next day.
The fliers were told to put their heads down. Rest, if they couldn't sleep.
Hal didn't even try his usual pretense of sleeping soundly and easily, sure of victory on the morrow.
He checked the dragons, starting with Storm.
Babil Gachina found him.
"And what'll we do on the morrow, sir?"
"I don't know," Hal said. "Stand by and be ready when we come back… those of us who do."
Gachina shook his head.
"Not good enough."
Hal could have gotten angry, but instead was slightly amused.
"Considering your problems with flying, I don't see what you can do."
"I can wear a blindfold," Gachina said. "Long enough to put me where I can do some good. And others can do the same… or I'll deal with 'em.
"Put us on the ground, sir, in that valley where those damned dragons spawn, and we can surely kill any that come down to us."
Hal considered.
"Yes," he said. "That can be done."
"Good," Gachina growled. "I'll have the rest of my cowards up."