Doom of the Dragon

by Margaret Weis

“Sigurd, Bjorn!” Skylan shouted, climbing down the ladder with Farinn following behind.

  The two entered the stormhold with caution and stopped just inside the doorway.

  “Raegar’s fleet is on the way,” Skylan reported.

  “That means a fight,” said Sigurd, grinning. “Against the living this time, not ghosts. Real heads to bash.”

  Skylan smiled. He did not like Sigurd, but he had to give the man credit. When it came to battle, Sigurd had never yet met the skull he couldn’t crack.

  “The rest of you go back to camp,” Skylan said. “Tell Aylaen and Bear Walker about the fleet and assemble the chiefs. I’ll talk to them when I return.”

  “What are you going to do?” Bjorn asked.

  “I’m going to take one more look around this place. There might be something I missed,” said Skylan.

  “Don’t let any magicks knock you on your butt again,” said Sigurd.

  He, Bjorn, and Farinn left the stormhold, accompanied by Dela Eden, the three continuing a running argument about the effectiveness of the Vindrasi shield wall as opposed to Cyclopes archery.

  Skylan remained by himself in the stormhold. He didn’t really expect to find anything. He just needed a moment alone, to think, make plans. He watched the globe, serenely floating in its dark well, and swore in vexation.

  “If you are this powerful, why give up without a fight? I don’t understand!”

  The globe had no answer for him. Shaking his head, Skylan left, glad to walk out into the sunshine. He was following the path through the trees, deep in thought, when something sprang at him from the shadows.

  Skylan drew his sword, terrifying Wulfe, who gave a yelp and scrambled backward.

  “Torval’s balls, Wulfe!” Skylan swore. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! I could have killed you!”

  He sheathed his sword and continued walking. Wulfe padded along by his side.

  “I wasn’t sneaking up on you,” said the boy. “I came to give you something.”

  “Wulfe, I’m not in the mood—” said Skylan.

  Wulfe dashed past him, jumped in front of him, and stood blocking the path. Skylan glared at him.

  “What is it, then?” he demanded. “Be quick. I have to get back to the ship.”

  “You’ll like this,” Wulfe assured him. “If you still want to talk to the Cloud Dwellers, my mother said she would take you.”

  Skylan stared, amazed, not understanding. “Your mother…”

  “Princess of the Faery,” Wulfe said proudly. “You know that. I’ve told you. She will take us. Aren’t you pleased? It’s what you wanted.”

  Part of Skylan was pleased. The other part wanted to turn and run.

  CHAPTER

  24

  Returning to the Venejekar, Skylan sent Farinn, along with Erdmun and Bjorn, back to the stormhold with the spyglass to try to get a closer look at the approaching fleet, perhaps make a guess at the numbers of troops he might be facing. He also asked Bjorn to look for a place along the coastline where Raegar was likely to land his ships and set up camp.

  Skylan missed Acronis, who would have been able to tell him how many troops each ship could carry and provide him with other valuable information about Raegar’s army. Skylan also missed the older man’s advice and counsel, especially now that he was trying to decide what to do about Wulfe’s startling offer for his mother to take him to Tsa Kerestra.

  Skylan had mulled it over all the way back to the dragonship. At first he thought he would accept. He didn’t have any choice. He had to either talk to the Stormlords or steal the spiritbone from them; he hadn’t yet decided which. But just when he had made up his mind to go, he thought about placing his trust in Wulfe’s mother, who might or might not be the daughter of the faery queen.

  The fae had come to Skylan’s aid more than once. He owed his life to the oceanids and he was grateful, but he couldn’t put his trust in any of them. He was one of the hated “Uglies.” The only reason they had helped him was because he was important to Wulfe, who obviously wasn’t that important to his mother. According to Wulfe’s own tale, his mother had abandoned him, leaving her child to run wild with a wolf pack.

  Skylan determined he wouldn’t risk it, not on the eve of battle. And yet …

  While he was still going back and forth in his decision, Farinn returned from the stormhold with a disappointing report. The enemy fleet had been engulfed by storm squalls and he had not been able to see them. His best guess, based on his original sighting, was that the fleet consisted of two very large ships and a host of smaller ones and that they were two, maybe three days out.

  Skylan and Farinn calculated that given the number of ships the bard saw, Raegar had around four thousand troops, while Skylan had maybe five hundred.

  “The odds are against us, but not by that much,” he said, “considering that each of my warriors is worth ten Sinarians. I have two days to make plans. Two days to talk to the Stormlords, acquire the spiritbone, and return.”

  At this, Skylan surprised himself. He just realized he had reached a decision.

  Skylan called a meeting of the captains, including Bear Walker and Raven’s-foot and Keeper, Dela Eden, Aylaen, Sigurd, and the other Vindrasi. The warriors met on the beach. Wulfe remained on board the Venejekar, complaining that there would be too much iron, for which Skylan was grateful. He had not yet told anyone about his decision to travel to Tsa Kerestra, and was afraid the boy would blurt it out before he had a chance to explain to the others.

  Skylan described the stormhold, the floating stone globe, and the magic that had blown him across the room. When the ogres appeared skeptical, Dela Eden confirmed his words. At this, Raven’s-foot scowled and softly rattled the gourd in a circle around himself, presumably meant to ward off evil. Skylan added that they had seen Raegar’s fleet approaching, about two days distant.

  “Which gives us two days to make preparations,” he said. He paused a moment, then added as calmly as he could, “I believe I have found a way to enter Tsa Kerestra.”

  “Tsa Kerestra!” Aylaen gasped.

  He looked at her, startled. She had gone white to the lips and pressed her hand against her chest, as though she were having trouble breathing.

  “I plan to talk to the Stormlords,” he said. “You knew I meant to do this.”

  “Just not … so soon…” she murmured.

  He regarded her with concern, but she gave him a faint, pale smile and he turned to the others, who were far more vocal, demanding answers.

  “How? Are you going through the stormhold? What about the magic?”

  Skylan raised his hand, calling for silence. “This is a risk I take on myself. I ask no one to go with me. If I succeed, then all is well. If I fail…” He shrugged. “We are no worse off than we are now.”

  “We might be better off,” Sigurd called out, laughing. “For I will then be Chief of Chiefs.”

  Skylan let this pass. Bear Walker and Raven’s-foot were arguing. Dela Eden looked at him with all three of her eyes. Aylaen was silent, withdrawn. She stood with her arms clasped around herself, gazing out to sea. She seemed not have heard anything he had said. He gave an inward sigh. She feared for him, of course. He foresaw a difficult time persuading her that he must go.

  “I have been considering what we must do!” Skylan shouted to recapture their attention. “Aelon will warn Raegar that we are coming to stop him. He will be on the lookout for us and I do not want him to find us. Not yet. At first I thought we could sail farther upriver, but I like this location. Our dragonships are well hidden and we are close to the stormhold.”

  He gestured to the beach, to the myriad footprints in the sand, bundles of fishnet, dead fish, and fish guts.

  “Unfortunately, Raegar has only to see this mess and he will know we are here and he will come looking for us.”

  “Let him find us!” Sigurd shouted.

  “I want him to find us when we are ready for him to find us,” said Skylan. “Not before.”
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  “We could make it look as if we took fright at the sight of the emperor’s fleet and ran away,” said Dela Eden.

  Sigurd and the other Vindrasi raised their voices in anger.

  “Raegar is a Vindrasi himself,” said Skylan. “He knows that we would never flee, no matter what the odds. I was thinking we could make it look as if we fought a great battle here, leave some broken shields and weapons scattered about. Raegar will think the wizards defeated us—”

  “Bah! No one would believe that!” Sigurd scoffed. “Raegar will think we knocked their city from the clouds and drove the wizards into the sea and then sailed home, triumphant, too filled with glory to bother about him.”

  Skylan and Bjorn exchanged glances.

  “He’s only partly jesting, you know,” said Bjorn.

  Skylan shook his head and asked Bjorn if he had found a site where Raegar would be likely to land his army.

  “The beach is too narrow here, near the stormhold,” said Bjorn. “There is a wide stretch of beach located about a day’s journey north of the stormhold, close to that plateau underneath the city in the clouds.”

  “The Stormlords call the plateau Foundation Rock,” said Dela Eden. “Bjorn is right. If the emperor is going to try to attack Tsa Kerestra, that would be an excellent site to make his camp.”

  “I don’t like all this skulking about,” Sigurd grumbled. “When do we fight?”

  “We must wait to see the outcome of my meeting with the Stormlords,” said Skylan. “If all goes as I hope, they will join us in battle.”

  And if it doesn’t, he thought, and I have to steal the spiritbone, we may be fighting two enemies: Raegar and the Stormlords.

  He asked Dela Eden and Farinn to go back to the stormhold tomorrow morning at dawn to keep watch on the progress of Raegar’s ships. Sigurd and the others were to make the beach look as if there had been a battle, and suggested that perhaps they could always fight a mock battle to churn up the sand, make it look more realistic.

  Seeing Sigurd look a bit too enthusiastic, Skylan added severely, “Use deer blood, not your own.”

  Bear Walker demanded to know how Skylan was going to travel to a city in the clouds and the others wanted to know, as well. Skylan said he would trust to Torval to find a way. No one liked that answer, but when it became clear that was all Skylan would say, they walked off, shaking their heads.

  Skylan had to tell Aylaen the truth. She had not said a word since he had said he was going to Tsa Kerestra. By unspoken agreement, they walked back to the Venejekar to discuss the matter. Wulfe pounced on Skylan the moment he boarded.

  “Well? Will you come?” the boy asked eagerly.

  “I can’t talk now,” Skylan said with a glance at Aylaen.

  She looked at Wulfe and then back at Skylan. “The fae are part of this plan of yours?”

  “My mother said she would take him,” said Wulfe.

  Aylaen’s eyes widened. Skylan cast a grim look at the boy, then took hold of Aylaen’s arm and steered her toward the hatch.

  “I need to talk to you in private,” he said.

  They went down into the hold and Skylan closed the hatch. When the darkness closed around them they instinctively drew together.

  “Wulfe says his mother can take me to Tsa Kerestra,” Skylan said. “I know this sounds crazy, but according to Wulfe, his people visit the Kingdom Above on a regular basis. He says they go to admire the beautiful things. My guess is that the fae go to steal some of these beautiful things.”

  “Like the objects he has in his hidey-hole,” Aylaen said thoughtfully. “But how do they travel there?”

  “He won’t tell me. He said the way is secret. But he promised me that they don’t go through the stormhold.”

  “When do you plan to leave?” she asked.

  “Tonight. The fae are holding some sort of feast in the forest and I am invited to attend. I will leave from there.”

  Aylaen was quiet. Skylan couldn’t see her face in the darkness, but he thought he could guess her thoughts.

  “I know you don’t want me to go—”

  “You must go,” said Aylaen. “And I must go with you.”

  Skylan gave an emphatic shake of his head. “I will go alone, Aylaen. The danger is too great. We can’t trust the fae, and as for the Stormlords—”

  “I am going with you, Skylan,” said Aylaen. “And I will give you my reasons. How will the Stormlords know you are telling the truth about the spiritbones if they do not see them?”

  Skylan had not considered this. Since he could not answer, Aylaen answered for him. “You must have the other four to show them. I am Kai Priestess. The spiritbones are in my care and their care is my duty. I will take them.

  “That is the first reason,” she continued. “Here is another. You do not know how to negotiate. If people won’t do what you want, you threaten to bash them over the head. Look what happened when you met the Queen of the Aquins. You offended her and ended up in prison. Even the peace-loving druids nearly killed you. You need me, Skylan, and I am coming with you.”

  “I do need you,” said Skylan, drawing her close. “And that is why I do not want to risk losing you.”

  “You do not care for me, that I risk losing you,” Aylaen returned. “Men stand in the shield wall and women are left to bury the dead. You will say that this is our way of life.”

  “Yes, of course,” Skylan said, puzzled that there should be any argument.

  “It is also our way that the wife of the Chief of Chiefs should be a Kai Priestess,” said Aylaen. “As you are chief of their physical well-being, so I am chief of their souls.”

  Her voice quavered slightly and he felt her shiver in his arms. “Vindrash has given me her blessing, her sword and her armor, and she has entrusted me with the spiritbones. I am coming with you, Skylan. If there is danger, we will be stronger if we face it together.”

  At that moment, Skylan loved her so much he thought his heart might burst.

  “If we have a daughter and she is as stubborn and rebellious as her mother,” he said, “I will never find a husband for her.”

  Aylaen twined her arms around him and rested her head against his chest.

  “Her name will be Holma,” she said softly. “And she will have a twin brother named Skylanson. They will have red hair like their mother and blue eyes like their father.”

  Skylan stared at her, amazed. “How do you know this?”

  “A pretty dream,” she said. “Nothing more. And now I must change. We must wear our finest.”

  As she slipped out of his embrace, Skylan thought he felt something wet, like a tear, fall on his hand.

  “Aylaen…,” he began, but she pushed him away.

  “Go talk to Wulfe,” she told him.

  The boy had been waiting for Skylan, and he accosted him the moment he set foot on deck, jumping about in his excitement. “You are coming to see my mother!”

  “Aylaen and I are both coming—against my better judgment,” Skylan said. “How far away is this feasting site?”

  “Not far,” Wulfe said evasively.

  “Then it’s nearby,” Skylan persisted.

  Wulfe scratched his head. “Not near here.”

  “Then near where?” Skylan demanded. A sudden thought came to him and he frowned at the boy. “Dela Eden said your people live in a kingdom beyond the mountains. You’re not taking us there, are you?”

  “No, silly. My grandmother wouldn’t let you in,” Wulfe returned. “The place where my mother is holding the feast tonight is not far and it’s not near. It just is.”

  Skylan was going to ask more questions, but stopped himself. He realized that the boy had actually taken a bath without anyone forcing him. Wulfe had also washed his face—or most of it—and had apparently even had tried to comb his hair. One of Aylaen’s wooden combs was caught in the boy’s shaggy mop.

  “You can’t go dressed like a beggar,” Skylan said, eyeing the rags Wulfe was wearing. “Aylaen will find
you a clean tunic.”

  “My mother has clothes for me. Can you get this comb out? I think it’s stuck.”

  Skylan began trying to free the comb. “Was your mother glad to see you?”

  “At first she didn’t know me,” Wulfe answered. “And then she kissed me and hugged me and asked me if I remembered the magic she had taught me and I said I did, most of it. Ouch! That hurts!”

  “What else did she say?” Skylan asked.

  “She said she’d heard from the oceanids that I was living with you and the other Uglies and I was coming here and she was hoping to see me, only when she did, I wasn’t what she expected.”

  “What did she expect? That you’d stay a baby forever?” Skylan finally managed to untangle the boy’s hair, though he ended up breaking two of the comb’s teeth.

  “I think she thought I’d be grown into a man by now,” said Wulfe.

  “Why would she think that? How old are you?”

  Wulfe shrugged. “I don’t know. A hundred? How many is that?”

  Skylan laughed. “Too many.”

  He left Wulfe and went to dress for the feast. His beard had grown long and unkempt and he decided to bathe in the ocean and shave. He put on his best tunic, or rather the tunic that was the least worn, clean breeches, and his leather armor. He combed out the tangles in his long blond hair and tied two braids in the front, leaving the rest unbound in back. He added the silver arm rings that he had won in battle, to impress the wizards, and then presented himself to Aylaen for approval.

  She came on deck wearing her dragon-scale armor over a white leather tunic and pants and boots. She had also bathed and washed her hair, which she wore tied in a single heavy braid down her back with curls straying around her face. Wulfe had opened his hidey-hole for her and she carried the spiritbones in a pouch tied onto her sword belt.

  “You are too beautiful,” said Skylan. “You will make the faeries envious.”

  “And you are too handsome,” Aylaen said. “I fear some dryad will run away with you.”

  “Are you two finally ready?” Wulfe demanded impatiently.

  “Not quite,” said Aylaen. “I must talk to the Dragon Kahg. I need to tell him where we are going.”