by Peter Fane
It was not just to fight.
It was to protect.
32
"MY ORDERS?" ANNA asked. Holding her leather helmet beneath her arm, she pushed a lock of dark hair behind her ear.
Master Zar nodded. "You'll launch immediately for the upper stables. There, you'll release Voidbane."
The armory crews stirred and murmured. From Master Zar's shoulder, little Gregory squeaked his approval.
Master Jason raised an eyebrow. "Think that's best? Bane's been uneven for years, ever since we lost Erik." He tilted his head at Anna.
"Don't know." Master Zar shrugged. He rubbed his palm over the Dallanar crest on his forehead. "But I do know this. If it comes to blows, Voidbane will shred Irondusk without half a thought. He's twice as smart, twice as fast, and he'll be hungry for a rematch. We give Bane the opportunity, Irondusk won't stand a chance. Don't forget, Voidbane loved Erik. Given the opportunity, he won't need an excuse to destroy Fel's dragons. Truth be told, the real problem will be getting him to stop."
Master Jason nodded.
"Fel knows that, too," Master Zar continued. "No way these traitors didn't consider Voidbane in their plans. They won't be able to touch him, but they'll still need to keep him out of the action. They know he's all we need to turn the tide of any battle. Probably what those dragon riders were doing at the upper barracks in the first place. Anna's gonna cut in there, evade whatever guards they've got in place, and set Voidbane loose. Simple as that. Besides, the big guy has known Anna since she was a baby. She's the only rider for the job, especially considering his temperament of late."
"And us?" Master Jason asked.
"We're gonna follow Master Khondus's plan. We're gonna kill those traitors in the courtyard, meet up with Khondus and Captain Fyr at the High Gate, and get a message through to Bellános on Kon. Once that's done, we'll keep taking out the rubbish 'til the Drádonhold's been scrubbed clean."
"Will Bellános come?" Master Jason asked.
"How can he not?" Master Zar replied. "His thrice cursed brother arms House Fel against us. And why? So that he can take control of our stables and our dragons. Bellános knows all this. We get him a message, he'll keep his promise. He'll come."
"And if we can't get him a message?"
"It means Fel controls both Dávanor's High Gates. It means we're cut off. It means that we stand alone against Lord Fel, Lord Tevéss, and the Pretender King."
33
HER HAND ON Moondagger's neck, Anna put her foot into her stirrup and lifted herself up into the saddle. There, she clipped her harness into the saddle's safety clasps and belted up her thighs. Dagger shifted beneath her. His neck was a coiled spring of muscle beneath smooth white scales. She lay forward along the saddle's belly pad and double-checked the distance between her saddle and her grips. She twisted side to side and pulled hard against the restraining clips and belts. Everything felt in order, so she secured her helmet, checked her equipment one more time, and pulled her flight goggles down over her eyes. Master Jason and Master Zar stood together on the far side of the launch platform. She nodded at them. Good to go. Master Jason returned her nod. Master Zar gave her a formal salute, his huge purple fist across his broad chest. Little Gregory glared at her with his tired, milky eyes and gave a little squeak.
"Platform clear!" Master Jason ordered.
"Platform clear, sir!" his team replied.
"Rider ready!"
"Rider ready, sir," Anna replied.
"Launch!" Master Jason commanded.
"Launch!" the team cried.
"Launch," Anna whispered.
A muscly grunt, a scrape of claw, and they leapt together into the sky.
34
THEY ARCED INTO the air and dropped away from the platform, diving along the walls, the carved cliffs, and the jagged rocks of the mountainside. Dagger's white tail was a perfect line, his form impeccable, his neck strong and warm beneath her chest, his response to her grips and knees immaculate. A cliff tree flashed past them with a snap of twig. They banked hard and started their long circle around the eastern side of the Drádonhold.
Anna's goggles were clear, and she kept a sharp lookout for enemy sentries and riders. She saw none. Messenger dragons still flurried across the sky as the Drádonhold woke to the day, but it was eerie, as if the citadel had chosen this particular morning to slumber late, unaware of the coiled violence now seething within its walls.
They raced along the eastern side of the mountain. When they'd gone far enough, she lifted Dagger's nose and began the slow, careful climb to Voidbane's lodge.
"Let's go even higher," Anna said. "Come in from up top."
They'd approach the lodge from above. If the enemy saw them, they'd have the advantage of elevation and could drop away, fast. Dagger pumped his wings and banked upwards, angling against the cliff side, climbing steadily. After several moments, they landed on a narrow cliff ledge above the Drádonhold.
Anna sat up in her saddle, looked down at the High Keep.
Voidbane's lodge was directly below them. It was a massive stone building nearly a hundred paces long and half again as tall. Because of the mountain's topography, it sat at one of the highest points of the Drádonhold, connected to the upper stables and barracks by a series of narrow stairs and rock-cut bridges. The lodge's foundation had been carved directly into the mountain top, its wall courses cut from the cliff side. Its huge, gabled roof was tiled with the same silver-grey slate as the rest of the Keep's buildings.
She pulled her goggles from her face, set them on the brow of her helmet, and frowned. Dagger grunted. There was no one there.
She couldn't see the front of the lodge, but the enormous side yard was empty and the big southern and eastern windows were open. Voidbane's launch door was open, too. It was as if he was already out. She could see into the stable proper. There was nobody there.
But how could that be?
"Makes no sense."
She took the telescope from the leather loop at her side, extended it, and pointed it at the lodge. Everything became huge and clear.
But still nothing.
No movement. No Dradón soldiers. No Tevéss soldiers. No dragons. No Voidbane. Nothing.
She moved the sight of the telescope over and around the lodge. As she adjusted her grip, her finger pressed one of the telescope's moonstone buttons. A loud, wet gasp sounded in her ear. She jumped and jerked the telescope from her eye. Dagger growled. As soon as her eye no longer touched the telescope's brass oculus, the sound ceased immediately. She checked around, saw that she was clear, and pressed her eye once again to the telescope. There was no sound. She pressed the moonstone button again. The sound returned.
It was a huge, rattling breath, moist and deeply labored.
The sound of a massive dragon.
A massive dragon that couldn't breathe.
Anna collapsed the telescope with a snap.
"Go!" She pressed herself to Dagger's neck as he launched from the ledge, diving straight at the lodge, straight through the stable's rear window, unfurling his wings the moment he was inside, landing perfectly in the golden straw.
Voidbane was there, lying on his side.
But he didn't move.
"No!" Anna cried.
She unclipped and leapt from her saddle.
He was truly an enormous dragon, over sixty paces long. His scales were black as night. His black tail was long and thickly crested, his huge head marked by massive obsidian horns. The tip of one horn had been broken three years ago and had yet to heal. The other was nearly as long as Anna was tall. His huge eyes were shut. He didn't stir, not even with their landing.
Anna saw no wounds or punctures or blood. But there was an unhealthy smear of dark, bone-colored foam on his mouth. The scales around his lips were crusty, grey, and dead-looking. The straw in front of his snout was sticky with slime. One of his feeding tubes had been discarded in the straw beside his head.
She ran through the straw, lifted the tu
be, put her nose in it, and recoiled. The stench was strange and sweetish, cloying.
Voidbane gave a massive, wheezing gasp. His sides shuddered. She put her hand on his side. His scales were barely warm, not clammy, but holding none of their usual heat. He didn't stir at her touch. She noticed a dead messenger dragon hastily buried in the straw beside him. Its neck had been broken. She bent down and searched its harness. Nothing. But beneath the tiny dragon's body, she found an ancient message tube of engraved high silver, whatever message it had carried long gone. Without thinking, she tucked it into a pocket inside her armor.
Dagger crawled up, sniffing, extending his nose towards Voidbane's snout. The big dragon growled at his approach. The sound was impossibly deep, impossibly powerful—but was cut short by another weird, wracking spasm in the dragon's side. Dagger retreated with a low whine.
Anna stepped to Moondagger, swung into her saddle, and clipped on.
"Go!" she cried.
Master Borónd.
As fast as you can, Dagger. As fast as you'll ever fly.
Moondagger seemed to hear her thoughts and leapt for the open window as if shot from a catapult.
35
THEY LANDED ON the southern balcony of Master Borónd's library with a scrape of stone, the gust of their arrival stirring the well-ordered rows of plants and herbs that lined the porch's sun-kissed ledges. A large crow sat there, pecking the dirt of a potted Dayádian clover.
Anna unhooked, leapt from her saddle, and ran through the covered portico toward the glass doors of Master Borónd's library.
"Nice to see you again, girl." A short dragon rider in maroon livery stepped in front of her. He held a bloody straight razor in one hand. "So very nice."
It was Hendo. The pig-nosed villain she'd first met on the upper barracks' terrace. His eyes glimmered wickedly, catching the morning sunlight at a freakish angle. His weird nostrils dilated. Anna stopped and calmly backed away, out into the sun. Hendo followed, pursing his lips.
"What are you doing here, girl?" Hendo asked, wiping his mouth with the back of the hand that held the razor. Its edge flashed. Both his hands were red with blood. A curved dagger was tucked into the front of his riding belt. His maroon livery was blood-stained, too.
Moondagger growled. Hendo seemed not to notice it.
Anna raised her hands. "I'm here to see Master Borónd, sir—."
"Got yourself into proper harness, eh?" he said, looking her over, coming towards her, paying Dagger no mind. "Got your little worm ready for his riding? That is good. That is very good."
He reached for the iron whistle that hung from his neck.
Anna turned, made as if to run towards Dagger, and Hendo took the bait, coming up behind her, reaching for her shoulder. The moment he touched her, Anna screamed as if in terror, feigned collapse, grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and rolled the little man hard over her shoulder, sending him straight towards her dragon. Dagger took the handoff perfectly, bit Hendo's ankle as it flipped towards him, and tossed the rider nonchalantly over the balcony's parapet into the yawning chasm. Strangely, the man didn't scream as he plummeted to the toothy rocks below. Anna clapped Dagger on the jaw, ran through the portico, and opened the library's glass doors.
Inside, two Tevéss soldiers stood on either side of Master Borónd. They were leaning over him, whispering something. The Master was bound to his reading chair with ropes at his ankles, wrists, and waist. Several of his fingers had been broken. Blood pooled on the floor beneath his chair from some wound she couldn't see. On the writing desk, his delicate, wire-framed reading spectacles had been smashed under a broken pot from which emerged a wrecked sprout of Nelorian fern. An iron cauldron rested on a tripod at the center of his desk, suspended over a cooking lamp. The cauldron was surrounded by an assortment of glass vials and beakers, many of them empty or spilled. A pile of books smoldered in the far corner. The volumes were large and priceless, the stink of burning velum like a haunch of merino left too long over fire. Several of his bookshelves had been broken off the walls. There were more broken pots shattered at Anna's feet. Master Borónd moaned. The Tevéss infantryman with his back to Anna hissed, and slapped the Master across the face. Neither of them had noticed her arrival. Or Hendo's departure.
Anna drew her revolver from the small of her back, took a calm breath, and whistled. The Tevéss soldiers looked up, and she shot them both between the eyes—one, then the other—heads cracking back, bodies crumpling to the floor. Master Borónd glanced up, recognized her, and looked down, his head wagging.
". . . Anna," he whispered, not looking at her.
She ran to him and knelt beside the chair. His slender nose looked wrong and when he spoke, she could see that one of his front teeth had been broken. There were five precise cuts on his forehead, beginning right below his blondish-grey hair, each longer than the last. The cuts were fresh. A line of blood ran past his eye. They'd shaved one half of his beard and moustache away. He wouldn't look at her, but instead stared at the smoldering pile of books, as if ashamed of his appearance. His bottom lip quivered. Anna holstered her weapon, drew her dagger, and cut the ropes away from his ankles, wrists, and waist, the high silver blade parting the ropes like air.
"They're killing everyone," Anna said gently, putting her hand on his shoulder, re-sheathing her blade. "They've poisoned Voidbane. He needs—."
". . . I know," Master Borónd whispered. He held his destroyed hands in his lap.
Something in his voice stopped her.
He still wouldn't meet her gaze.
She looked at the cooking cauldron on the desk. The litter of strange ingredients around it. She stepped to the desk, put her nose into the pot, and recoiled at the familiar strange and sweetish smell.
". . . they made me . . . " Master Borónd said, staring at the smoking books. "They brought Lady Abigail. They brought her here. She didn't know what they were doing. She stood right there, and Gideon pointed a gun at the back of her head. She couldn't see it. She's so small. He showed me what would happen if I refused. I couldn't . . . . They made me take it to him . . . . They made me. Because Voidbane knew me . . . . They knew he'd take it from me . . . ."
Traitor!
Outside on the balcony, Moondagger roared. The glass doors shook. Anna's mind raged. And just like that, her old friend—her dark rage—was back, hungrier than ever. Her head spun. She glanced outside at Dagger, caught his eye, and took a breath. Quelled it. What was Borónd supposed to have done? Let them kill the High Lady?
"Is there a remedy?" she asked calmly, taking another deep breath. "Can we give him something? Quickly now. He still lives."
Master Borónd nodded. ". . . yes. Above the medicine cupboard in the closet there, above the top shelf on the left, behind the rack of Jagaean tonics. A small, silver box tucked below the far rafter . . . ."
Anna ran, grabbed a stool, and found the box. It was intricately fashioned of strange, silvery wood. Its top was carved with a design of interlaced vines and plants.
It was locked.
"The key?" she asked.
"Around my neck." He bowed his head.
She found a silver chain and lifted it over her head. There were several other keys on it.
"Which one?"
"The smallest."
She took it. Opened the box. At its center was a small, crystal vial held in a sculpted hand of high silver. The vial shone with pale, white radiance.
". . . if anything can help, that is it." Master Borónd swallowed. "From Kon, five years past . . . a gift from young Garen Dallanar."
Anna took some writing paper from a drawer, wrapped the vial, and placed it inside her breastplate.
". . . it will work, Anna," Master Borónd said.
"Thank you," she said steadily, turning for the balcony. "Now rest—."
"Fel will be here two days after next . . . three days. Through Jorgun Gorge. I heard them speak of it—."
"Not Hengén Cleft?" Anna turned, her eyebrows shooting up.
"No. Through the Gorge. I'm sure of it. Why would they lie? Three days. Fastest route from the Felshold. Through the Gorge."
If it was true, then it meant that Captain Corónd, the Tevéss dragon master she'd met at the upper barracks, had deliberately fed her false information about Lord Fel's arrival, knowing that she'd pass it on, exactly as she'd suspected. Outside on the balcony, Moondagger growled impatiently.
"I'll send aid when I'm able," Anna said.
Master Borónd nodded and slumped in his chair. She ran to the balcony, mounted, clipped on, and launched.
36
MOONDAGGER SAW WHAT happened next backwards, as if the scene played out from the end to its beginning. First, he saw three enemy dragons tearing Anna to pieces. Then he saw them dive at her, their talons flexed and deadly. He saw their riders' eyes glint in the morning sun, just before they launched. He saw the enemy riders scanning the mountains, weapons ready, alert and on the watch. And then things stopped—and moved forward again. And three enemy dragons were falling silently towards them. He could not see them anymore, but somehow he perfectly understood their presence and position, as if he saw the entire encounter from a distance.
And then he saw Anna's Father astride Voidbane in front of him, radiant and glowing with silvery-white light. Father held a long, silver war lance in his hand. Voidbane roared, the thunderous sound quaking Dagger's mind. Father aimed the lance at Moondagger's heart.
"Protect her," he whispered.
Moondagger knew how. So he did.
37
ANNA AND DAGGER launched from the balcony of Master Borónd's library. She kept good watch, carefully avoiding the easiest paths, skirting entire areas in their attempt to preserve speed and stealth, circling up the mountainside as they raced east to Voidbane's Lodge.
The enemies' assault was soundless—at least Anna hadn't heard anything. It was Dagger who saved them from the initial attack, his preternatural reflexes somehow anticipating the aggressors' strike moments before they hit.