“That figures,” Grimuir said. “I never did like that old crone.”
“That ‘old crone’ is going to help Aylaen take back the spiritbone,” said Skylan. “The Stormlords never meant to give it to Raegar. One of them is a traitor and he sold them out.”
“You left Aylaen there, alone in that city of wizards?” said Erdmun.
“She is Kai Priestess,” said Skylan. “The duty to her people is hers by right, and, as Chief of Chiefs, I support her.”
Skylan waited in silence for his friends to challenge him, especially Sigurd, who was Aylaen’s stepfather.
To his surprise, Sigurd said with gruff pride, “Aylaen would do her duty, no matter what the cost. She’s a Vindrasi and my daughter.”
The others nodded their agreement. Skylan was relieved. The worst was over. He could proceed on to the next part that, even though the news was dire, was far easier to explain.
“While I was in the city,” Skylan continued, “I saw Raegar’s fleet make landfall. He has two enormous galleys, each one bigger than our village, and he brought with him as many soldiers as there are grains of sand on the shore.”
Sigurd gave a shrug. “So you’re saying we’re outnumbered.”
“And Raegar has three dragons,” Skylan said. “Two of them were with us, so he knows our numbers and maybe even that we are hiding here.”
“If that’s true, we might as well have stayed dead,” Erdmun remarked glumly. “Save Raegar the time and trouble of killing us all over again.”
“Skylan has a plan,” Bjorn said.
“It better be a good one,” said Grimuir.
“It is,” said Skylan. And he was about to explain his plan when the sound of an explosion echoing among the trees caused the birds to rise from the branches, screeching, and brought the conversation to a sudden halt.
“What the hell was that?” Sigurd demanded.
Skylan couldn’t see Gray Beak through the thick leaves of the mangroves, but he knew in his heart what had happened.
“The blast came from the direction of the stormhold,” he said. “Something’s gone wrong. According to Owl Mother, Raegar was supposed to use the stormhold’s magic to open the gate, not blow it up.”
“Dela Eden and some of her Cyclopes went up to Gray Beak to keep watch,” said Bjorn. “They’ll tell us.”
“I don’t think we have to wait for them,” said Erdmun, craning his neck.
The Dragon Kahg circled in the air above them. He was hard to see, for his body was the same blue as the sky. As a dragon of air, he could change to gray to blend in with rain or black to meld with the night. Skylan now wondered if the dragon had known all along that the dragons who had sailed with them had been planning to betray him.
Kahg remained in the air a long while, flying just above tree level. Skylan, eager for news, was wondering impatiently what the dragon was doing when Kahg descended and returned to his form on the Venejekar.
“Go talk to him,” Skylan told Wulfe.
Wulfe hesitated. “You didn’t tell me he was real now.”
“This is why I let you come,” said Skylan. “Go talk to the dragon.”
Wulfe went off, dragging his feet, keeping a wary eye on the dragon while Kahg kept a fiery eye on the boy. Wulfe spoke to the dragon, then turned to report.
“Kahg says Raegar and a bunch of soldiers and priests visited to the stormhold,” Wulfe reported. “Raegar went inside and blew it up.”
“By Torval, maybe our luck has changed!” Skylan said.
“The only time our luck changes is to get worse,” Erdmun said.
“It gets worse. The city in the clouds fell,” Wulfe said, his eyes wide. “It’s not in the clouds. It’s on the ground.”
Skylan stared at him. “On the ground! Did it crash? Was it destroyed?”
All he could think about was Aylaen and if she was safe. Wulfe asked the dragon, who growled in anger. Wulfe turned to Skylan.
“Kahg says I have it wrong. The city didn’t really fall. It just isn’t where it used to be. It’s in our realm now.”
Skylan remembered the peach pit and thought he understood—at least as well as he would ever understand. The magic had gone awry and the city that was once in between realms was now in this one. He breathed easier.
“I take it this wasn’t the plan,” said Bjorn, who had been watching Skylan’s expression.
“No,” Skylan admitted. “It wasn’t.”
“Kahg says to tell you the Stormlords are waving a white flag.” Wulfe looked puzzled. “What does that mean?”
Grimuir sneered. “It means the bastards are giving up without a fight.”
“I say we fight their battle for them,” said Sigurd. “Kill Raegar and his men, storm the city, find Aylaen, and take her home.”
“With thousands of soldiers standing in our way, we would never get close enough to even see the city gate,” said Skylan.
“We have to do something,” said Bjorn. “You know what he and his soldiers will do to those people once they’re inside the city walls.”
“I know,” said Skylan, thinking. “And so do the wizards. Maybe this is part of their plan.”
He made up his mind.
“No matter what happens, Aylaen will do everything in her power to find the fifth spiritbone and summon the dragon Ilyrion,” said Skylan. “She’ll be relying on us and we must put our trust in her and in the gods. Vindrash will not abandon her priestess and Torval will not abandon us.”
“If Torval’s still around,” Erdmun muttered, but no one paid any attention to him.
“So what is this plan?” Sigurd asked.
“We all know Raegar and the Sinarians,” said Skylan. “Remember what they did with us after the Legate took us captive? They marched us into the city in triumph. Everyone came out to gawk at us. This is Raegar’s greatest moment. His moment of triumph. What will he do?”
“He’ll hold a celebration,” said Sigurd, grinning.
“And we’re going to ruin the party,” said Skylan.
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Skylan met with Bear Walker and Dela Eden to explain his plan, which was greeted with enthusiasm. Even the sour-faced shaman, Raven’s-foot, expressed his approval with a shake of the gourd.
“We need tow and resin to make the flaming arrows,” said Dela Eden. “We don’t have those supplies with us, but if we can use one of the dragonships and if your friends will help us row, we can sail back to the Cyclopes village to fetch what we need.”
Skylan dispatched Sigurd, Grimuir, Erdmun, and Bjorn to assist the Cyclopes. Skylan had no fears the dragonship would be seen. They were traveling south, away from Tsa Kerestra and the enemy encampment. Lookouts atop Gray Beak would have seen them, but Dela Eden reported that Raegar had declared victory and pulled all his forces off the promontory.
After the dragonship had sailed away, Skylan went in search of Wulfe and found him in the Cyclopes camp, curled up on a pile of fishnet, taking a nap. Wulfe grumbled when Skylan woke him.
“When are we going to eat? I’m hungry.”
“Soon,” Skylan promised, realizing that he, too, was hungry. He had been so caught up in his preparations for war that he had forgotten about food.
“If we’re not going to eat, why did you wake me up?” Wulfe demanded.
“I need to talk to the Dragon Kahg and I need you there to tell me what he says.”
“After that we can eat?” Wulfe asked.
“Yes,” Skylan promised.
As they went on board the Venejekar, Skylan asked Wulfe why he wasn’t complaining about being asked to speak to Kahg.
“The dragon still doesn’t like me, but he says he’s gotten used to me,” Wulfe explained. “He says I’m like scale-mites—annoying, but harmless.”
Skylan hid his smile, for he had something serious to discuss with the boy. “After we talk to Kahg—”
“You said we would eat,” Wulfe reminded him.
“After we eat I want
you to go back to stay with your mother. There’s going to be fighting. Men with iron. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I don’t want to go back to my mother,” said Wulfe, making a face. “She makes me take a bath and wear those itchy clothes and fusses with my hair. I heard Dela Eden say the Cyclopes were going to shoot fire and I’ve never seen anyone do that. And you might get into trouble again and need my magic. I guess I’ll come with you.”
Skylan was more than a little alarmed. The last thing he needed was Wulfe’s magic, which, while occasionally useful, tended to be erratic and unpredictable. He couldn’t think how to get rid of him.
“Just stay out of the way,” said Skylan. “And don’t change into a wolf.”
“I’ll try,” said Wulfe cautiously. “I can’t promise. Sometimes I change into the wolf and sometimes the wolf changes into me.”
They found the Dragon Kahg in his customary form on board the Venejekar, sleeping with his eyes open, at least that was what Wulfe claimed when the dragon didn’t immediately respond to Wulfe’s shout. When Kahg finally woke, Skylan explained his plan and the dragon’s role in it, expressing his hope that the dragon would consent to take part.
“The dragon says your plan is a good one,” Wulfe said, speaking for Kahg. “He might even add some touches of his own.”
“Tell Kahg I have appreciated all his help and that he will be rewarded with his pick of jewels when we return to our homeland.”
Skylan saw Kahg’s eyes darken, the flame diminish.
“What’s the matter?” Skylan asked. “Did I say something wrong?”
Wulfe listened, then turned to report. “The dragon says you might not have a homeland. Torval’s Hall is burning.”
Skylan stood in silence, his hand clenched on the hilt of his sword. He had been going to ask Torval for his help, but it seemed the gods were fighting for their lives in heaven. The battle here below was left to him and Aylaen, their small band of warriors, a fae child, and a dragon.
The Cyclopes returned with large quantities of tow—short fibers of carded flax. They also brought with them Kamau and twenty other Cyclopes warriors, who were angered when they heard about the fall of Tsa Kerestra, and wanted to fight.
Dela Eden explained the technique used by Cyclopes to prepare their arrows, showing Skylan how they tied pieces of tow around the shaft beneath the arrowhead, then dipped the tow in the resin.
“After that, all we have to do is light the tow on fire and shoot the arrows,” said Dela Eden.
Skylan was impressed and made a mental note to take that technique back to his people.
Leaving the Cyclopes to their work, he went to say good-bye to Bear Walker, and Sigurd and the other Vindrasi. They were setting out early, before nightfall, for they would travel overland to reach Raegar’s encampment.
“I will meet you there,” Skylan told them. “The Cyclopes and I will set sail after dark. You must wait for my signal to attack.”
Skylan was adamant on that point. Bear Walker agreed. Skylan wasn’t worried about the ogres obeying him. Drawing Keeper aside, he told him to keep watch on Sigurd and Grimuir, who were so eager for battle they might take it into their heads to start killing before it was time.
The Vindrasi wore leather armor that had been given to them by the gods on the isle of Joabis. Made of reindeer hide, the armor was lighter than plate and chain mail and the Vindrasi considered it stronger. Each carried the weapon he liked best, as well as gifts from the gods. Sigurd and Grimuir fought with battle axe and spear. Erdmun carried a war hammer and Bjorn had taken a liking to the Sinarian combination of spear and short sword.
The ogres wore heavy armor and carried massive shields, spears the size of trees, and either swords or axes given to them by the Gods of Raj. They had painted their faces to look particularly fearsome, with black lines across the nose and the rest of their faces a ghostly white. Raven’s-foot wore a black feather cape; he had tied feathers to the gourd and daubed his entire body in white paint.
Dela Eden had chosen thirty of her best archers to accompany her on the Venejekar, which was all the dragonships could carry. Those who marched with the ogres wore strange-looking armor woven of bamboo and armed themselves with clubs and knives.
Before they left, the warriors assembled in front of Skylan, who stood on a boulder to speak to them. He knew he should make an inspiring speech. He was sending this small force to face overwhelming odds and it was quite probable that none of them would return. True, they had all died once, but that did not make dying easier. He could think of nothing to say and realized that this moment was too sacred for words.
“Great Gods of Raj,” said Skylan. “Mighty Torval and gods of the Vindrasi, we go to battle in your names. Grant us your blessing and victory over our foes!”
The warriors bowed their heads. The ogre shaman solemnly and reverently shook the gourd. Skylan hoped Torval wouldn’t be offended that he had included the Gods of Raj in the prayer.
“Give me a spear,” said Skylan.
Sigurd handed him a spear. Shouting out Torval’s name, Skylan hurled the spear in the direction of the foe, dedicating them to the god. The ogres gave a cheer that shook the ground while the Cyclopes raised their voices in a shrill, eerie wail that raised the hairs on Skylan’s neck.
His small force set out. Skylan contrasted these few hundred with the thousands they would soon face.
“We just have to keep Raegar occupied and give Aylaen time to find the spiritbone,” he said to himself.
Touching the amulet, Skylan spoke softly. “Torval, we will make you proud.”
He only hoped the god was still alive to hear him.
CHAPTER
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The Dragon Kahg had been keeping a watchful eye out for his foes, Fala and the traitor dragons she had persuaded to abandon the Dragon Goddess Vindrash and join Aelon. Fala claimed she didn’t revere Aelon; she was serving the god in return for jewels.
There are so many gods tromping about heaven these days I don’t know one from the other, Fala had once told him. I care for no gods, any gods. Why should I? They have no care for us.”
Kahg remembered because he agreed with her. He had discovered the truth about the five spiritbones and had been furious to find out Vindrash had lied to him and the other dragons. Since then, his anger had subsided. Vindrash had paid for her folly. He was aware of the bitter battle the gods were waging against Aelon and his forces. He knew the fate that awaited the gods, no matter what the outcome.
Kahg had to admit Torval and Vindrash and the others had acted nobly, and he would do his part in honor of their sacrifice. He would do all in his power to assist the human Skylan and the Bone Priestess Aylaen to obtain the fifth spiritbone. (The fact that he remembered their names was itself a high honor; the dragon had served so many humans they all tended to blur together.)
He had one concern before he would agree to undertake this mission. He had not expressed that concern to the humans, because he knew they would not understand. While the humans were busy preparing for battle, Kahg left the ship, searching for the Dragon Fala. He found her lazily flying above the two galleys anchored in the water some distance from the shore.
Fala and the two other dragons had taken the form of earth dragons: big, bulky, and slow moving. He wondered if that had been their choice or the choice of the human who held their spiritbones.
Kahg stopped when he was within hailing distance of the three dragons, placing himself in a position where he could beat a swift retreat if necessary. In his form as an air dragon, he could easily outfly and outmaneuver the ponderous earth dragons.
Fala was the first to see him and she paused in her flight, drifting on the air currents.
“The mighty dragon Kahg,” she called out to him. “Are you here to join the victors?”
“I see no victors, Fala,” said Kahg in disparaging tones. “I see three dim-witted lizards foolish enough to serve humans who have yet to pay them.”
H
e had no idea if the dragons had been paid or not. He was merely hoping to nettle Fala, lure her into giving him information. His plan worked. She gave him information, but certainly not what he had expected.
“We are not like you, pitiful Kahg. We no longer serve humans. We serve only ourselves.”
This was amazing news, if it was true.
“Big words from a small mind,” Kahg returned, his lip curling in a sneer. “So long as the humans hold your spiritbones, you serve them.”
“They do not hold my spiritbone,” Fala returned. “The human Raegar is a fool who murdered my Bone Priestess and would make a slave of me. Therefore I took my spiritbone from him. He has no way of commanding me. I do what I choose.”
“So you fight for the god Aelon. You trade one master for another.”
Fala was scornful. “I fight for myself. As do my two comrades.” She flew a little closer, and Kahg kept a wary eye on her. “Where are your humans, mighty Kahg? Did you mislay them?”
“They ended up fighting each other,” said Kahg. “I grew disgusted and left.”
“Come join us, Kahg,” Fala said and her tone was soft and persuasive. “We do not need to work for humans or gods. The city is rich, filled with jewels. We will force them to give us what we want and then we will kill them.”
Kahg was both saddened and angered to hear such talk. “We left the Realm of Fire to escape a life of such butchery. Go back there if you want to spend your days in killing and slaughter.”
“The fire has gone out of your belly, airy Kahg,” Fala said scornfully. “You are nothing now but a bag of wind.”
She preened, pleased with her jest.
Kahg was weary of this conversation. He had found out what he needed to know, although at this point he wondered why he had bothered.
“May you someday learn better sense, foolish Fala,” he told her.
He turned his spiky back on her and flew away, taking his time, not to seem to be fleeing from her.
“May you someday fall from the skies, mighty Kahg!” Fala angrily cried and tried to chase after him. She flew for only a short distance before giving up the pursuit. Kahg gave an inward smile. Even a dimwit like Fala could see that an earth dragon was no match for a swift-flying dragon of air.
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