The King of the Crags mof-2

by Stephen Deas

  'Land!' he told her. 'Find a cave or something like that where they can't shoot at you and land.'

  I do not see any vast and gaping caves, Kemir, but I do see lakes. Plenty of lakes.

  'Caves are better.'

  Snow didn't answer. She headed further towards the mountains and wove back and forth around a forest of craggy hills, ducking between bluffs, diving in and out of narrow valleys, switching back and launching an attack or two of her own, although she never got close enough to snatch a rider. Finally, as twilight fell, the other dragons dropped back and stopped firing their scorpions, either because they'd run out of bolts or because they didn't trust their eyes in the gloom. Snow resumed her course towards the sea; the others followed more discreetly now, a mile or two away, slowly vanishing into the darkening sky.

  'You can lose them in darkness, can't you?' he shouted hopefully. He bounced up and down, trying to fight off the stiffness threatening to seize hold of his lower back. The pain in his head was getting to be unbearable. He felt sick, physically sick. Please say yes. I don't have the strength for this any more. Not again. Not after the Worldspine.

  The dragons will sense where I am.

  'How can they see you if it's dark?'

  I did not say see, I said sense. They will feel the presence of my thoughts. Escape is not likely. Snow started to climb. We do not like to fly in the dark. Perhaps the other dragons will refuse to continue.

  Kemir hunched over Snow's back, trying to sleep. His head was thumping and his tongue was starting to stick to the back of his throat. 'I need water, Snow. I think I'm going to die,' he whis-pered, but the dragon didn't seem to hear him and he fell back to dozing. As the full dark of night began to fall, Snow flew lower. She changed her course and started to follow a river that snaked along a valley filled with pines.

  Kemir jerked awake. Snow's thoughts had changed. They felt bright and sharp and full of victory. The dragons may sense where I am, but their riders will not. Ready yourself.

  'Ready myself for what,' slurred Kemir.

  To jump.

  'What?'

  You are getting off. There is water here to drink. You may find food. You will sleep and be refreshed. In the morning I will find you and we will fly to the sea together.

  'What about the other dragons?'

  They will come for me, not for you. In the darkness their riders will not be able to use their weapons against me. For a while I shall hunt them. If I succeed, they will be gone by dawn.

  She slowed, dropping lower and lower until she was skidding across the surface of the river, wings flapping furiously, sending great waves across the water, flying as slowly as a dragon could fly without simply falling out of the air. Jump! Now!

  Undoing the saddle took five times longer than it should have done and then Kemir was falling, rolling over Snow's scales, bouncing off her shoulder, tumbling, splashing into the water. The cold river shocked him awake, but he barely had time to get his bearings before Snow powered away and the wind from her wings grabbed his head and pushed him under the water. He came up spluttering, thrashing his arms and legs wildly. Half a lifetime ago he'd learned to swim so that he could dive for lake stones to trade. He was exhausted though. His boots and his sword belt were dragging him back down. He managed to ditch the belt, but the boots were another matter and he was loath to throw away either of the dragon-bone bows. And then there was the armour. I should have thought about this before Snow threw me off…

  And then, to his surprise, his feet were on the bottom. He was standing up and the river water only reached to his shoulders. He struck for the shore. The water was icy, soaking through his riding clothes as though they weren't there, making him bulky and clumsy. By the time he reached the bank he was trembling, teeth chattering. But alive.

  Water. And shelter. Before he froze. He took out his arrows and filled his quiver with river water. As he did, he saw two of the pursuing dragons soar overhead, side by side, black shapes against the night sky. Kemir winced and ducked. Once they were gone, he jogged along the bank to where a fallen tree lay with its roots sticking up in the air and started to strip off his wet clothes. There was a scar in the ground where the earth had been ripped open by the tree's roots as it fell. He tried to ignore how tired he was, fobbing off the fatigue and the exhaustion with promises that they could have him later. As long as they let him do what he needed to do to stay alive.

  He threw the last of his clothes onto the ground. He was shivering uncontrollably now. Memories of Nadira kept bothering him, although whether that was because he needed someone else's warmth or because he might be seeing her again soon, he wasn't sure. He started shovelling pine needles into a mound, scrabbling for handfuls wherever he could find them. She could have helped him with this too.

  He ran out of strength long before his pile of needles was as big as he wanted it to be. More would have been better, but there was nothing for it. He tipped some into the hole, climbed in and pulled the rest on top.

  'Forest blanket,' he whispered to himself. 'Have you never tried it?' His teeth were chattering. As the lurking darkness took him, he could almost believe he wasn't alone any more. And then he was gone.

  He was awoken by snuffling. Warm, loud snuffling. I know you are here. I can feel your thoughts.

  He opened his eyes. It was still dark. A dragon was peering at him. A huge dragon. He couldn't see what colour it was, but he was fairly sure it wasn't white.

  'Snow?'

  In the times we were first born this one had a different name. Now he is called Sunset.

  Kemir didn't move, He couldn't. Overnight, his muscles all seemed to have turned to wood. His face ached and his nose was sore and swollen up like and egg. 'This… is… another dragon?' he hissed.

  I told you I would hunt them. I have brought down one. The others evade me. Something landed with a thud close to Kemir's head. This is the rider. I could not tell if he was poisoned so I did not eat him. He has warm dry clothes. There is food here too.

  Food. Kemir jumped out of his hole. He skirted nervously around the new dragon, but Sunset only sniffed its dead rider and then eyed Kemir with dull curiosity. Both dragons were deliciously warm. After a moment of hesitation, he started to relieve the dead man of his clothes and his armour. The clothes were still warm too. Then he looked at Sunset.

  He will not hurt you. There is food. You wish to eat. You must take what you can. More dragons are coming. We must be on our way to the sea.

  Kemir helped himself. The food was delicious. He felt new again.

  You may ride Sunset if you wish. He is far from awakening.

  'No thanks.' He climbed up into the saddle and kicked Snow in the neck. 'Come on then! Gee up! How many dragons are after us now?'

  Two remain. They will not catch us.

  With food and water the rest of the journey wasn't so bad. Snow flew straight; the other dragon flew behind her and the riders from the mountains kept their distance. Sometimes when Kemir looked back he couldn't even see them. Then, hours later, they'd be back, little dark specks against the high white haze of cloud. They never came close though, and after another day and night of drifting high over the edge of the mountains, the Worldspine came to an end. A very abrupt end, as though the ancient god who'd carved the landscape had simply stopped and cut the rest away with a divine knife. Sheer cliffs plunged into the Sea of Storms, and when Kemir looked to the east, to the depths of the mountains, he saw that the cliffs only grew higher, until they rose from the sea for miles and vanished into the heavy clouds above. As Snow flew out into the void between the grey and grumbling clouds and the churning waters below, the last two dragons ended the pursuit.

  They stopped at the cliff and perched on the rocks. Kemir watched them fade slowly into the haze of the day. We have won, Kemir.

  Kemir closed his eyes as they flew out to sea. The coast was barely visible. Snow climbed up into the clouds, and Kemir couldn't see anything any more. The air was bitterly cold but at least it w
as damp. He opened his mouth and wished it would rain. The water he'd taken from the river was already gone.

  'Where are you going?' Snow was turning back towards the coast.

  Do you not wish to rest, Kemir? To eat and drin at your leisure? To lie with your limbs outstretched? 'You bloody know I do.'

  So do I. She powered in through the cloud. Kemir yawned. If the dragon wanted to go back to the coast and land somewhere safe, that was fine. He slumped over Snow's shoulders and let his mind wander through the memories that had brought him here. He thought of Sollos and of the dragons that had burned his home. Of Snow burning the alchemists out of their caves. Of Nadira. Of Rider Semian, whose sword had ended Sollos. Of his own shrieks of rage. Of sitting astride Snow as she hurtled through the air. He dreamed of the wind in his face, a great, howling wind…

  They were falling out of the sky. He blinked awake and tried to move, and the wind almost ripped him out of his harness. Snow had tucked in her wings. She was falling straight down like a monstrous arrow from the heavens, and Sunset was beside her. The black stone landscape of the cliffs was rushing up towards him. Kemir opened his mouth to shout, to scream, anything, but the wind tore his breath away. He couldn't even breathe. hook.

  He could barely open his eyes, but now at least he had a proper dragon-rider's helm. He pulled down the visor and looked. The two dragons who'd followed them to the sea were still there and Snow was diving at them.

  Breathe! He forced his chest to motion. Breathe! 'What are you doing?'

  These ones will be slow and stupid just as you have become, and I am hungry. I do not think there is nuuh food in this sea.

  'There are fish.'

  I do not think I am well equipped for catching fish.

  The ground was coming up. Kemir clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, and then Snow spread out her wings and threw Kemir forward with such force that he hit his head on her scales and knocked himself out. When he came to, Snow had landed. Kemir touched his forehead. His fingers came away bloody. His face was agony. His nose was probably ruined forever.

  You knew what I meant to do, chided Snow. You should have been ready.

  'I was ready.'

  Obviously not ready enough. She had a dragon-rider in her mouth. As Kemir pulled his groggy thoughts together, she crunched on the knight and swallowed him in one gulp, armour and all.

  'Stupid dragon, impatient as ever. He was probably poisoned, you know.' He could hear whimpering and wailing from somewhere.

  No, he was not. I asked before I ate him.

  'How very civilised. And what makes you think that whatever he told you was the truth?' Definitely whimpering. Someone was still alive, begging for mercy. Kemir peered down, trying to see the ground below Snow's bulk.

  He did not tell me anything with his words, Kemir, except how terrified he was. But I saw in his mind. No secret joy, no hidden victory. Only the understanding of certain death and his own futility. He had not taken poison like the ones before. Snow licked her lips. Bitter. I prefer them better fed.

  'I'm sure the others will taste better.' Two dragons meant four riders, didn't it? His head was throbbing badly. And his nose. Most of him, in fact.

  I barely noticed. These dragons carry food and water too. You should take it.

  'Do I have to?' He didn't feel so hungry now, only sleepy.

  There will be no more for many days. I will take your guidance, Kemir. I must wait for these dragons to awaken, and so we will fly out over the sea where none of your kind will find us. They will look for us but they will find nothing. We will seek land again far away from here. Until then we will starve.

  'Great.' The effort of getting off Snow's back and rummaging around the other dragons for food seemed impossible. Snow might as well have asked him to scale the cliffs.

  It is fortunate that I fed so well before this chase began, Kemir, is it not?

  'Whatever.' Wearily, Kemir unstrapped himself. He put his hand to his head again. The wound was still bleeding, and he had a lump the size of an egg right between his eyes. 'What do you make your scales out of?'

  Whatever we eat, Kemir.

  He turned around to slide off Snow's shoulder and staggered as he landed, dizzy and close to collapse. If he was really lucky, one of the dragons would catch him with an idle swish of its tail, shatter every bone in his body and send him flying over the edge of the cliff. Where the sea would then smash what was left of him into a sticky mess to be slowly eaten by crabs.

  He sat down heavily and rubbed his head again.

  'I hate you,' he grumbled. Then he saw that Snow had a last rider trapped under her front claw. Still alive.

  Take the food and water, Kemir. Eat, drink and sleep.

  Kemir glanced at the trapped rider. 'What about that one?'

  We are bringing this one with us. This one is useful.

  'Useful?' Kemir moved closer. 'How?' He stopped. The dragon-rider had lost his helm. Her helm. Long hair straggled out between Snow's claws. He caught a glimpse of her face. Terrified.

  This one knows where other dragons may be found.

  Kemir blinked. The dragon-rider's eyes caught his. Pleading. He'd seen that look too many times before. It made him hate her.

  'Give her to me and I'll make her talk right enough. Then I can tell you everything you need. You can have her back when I'm done if you must.' As Snow lifted her claw, he stepped forward, pulled the dragon-rider to her feet and threw her down again. Hard. Then he was on her. He punched her several times in the face, bloodied his knuckles, but somehow that wasn't anywhere near enough; he started ripping off her armour, tearing at the clothes underneath, swearing and screaming at her while Snow watched over his shoulder. The dragon-rider didn't even fight back that much. She snuggled, but most of her whimpers were pain. Snow had already broken one of her legs, maybe done more. He had her armour mostly off, was all ready to tear open the soft flying shirt she wore underneath when the dragon stopped him dead.

  Why?

  'What?'

  Why, Kemir?

  Revenge, that was why. Revenge for all the men and women raped and enslaved by the mountain king's riders. It wasn't about lust or desire or need, just cold and bloody and vicious revenge. Mostly what he wanted was to rip her to pieces with his bare hands. Not for anything he knew she'd done, but simply for what she was.

  You see, Kemir. Do you see now? That your kind are all the same? That there are no differences between you.

  Kemir spun around to glare at Snow. 'Yes, there are! These riders come and-' He wasn't allowed to finish.

  A human is a human. Some are taller, some are shorter, some are darker, some are lighter, but on the inside do not tell me you are different. This one is useful. When this one has told us what it knows, it will no longer be useful. Then you may mate with her in any way you wish; but for now you will stop. For now you will leave this one alone. Eat. Drink. And then we will leave.

  Angrily, Kemir did as he was told. When he was done, Snow gently gripped the rider in her claws and took to the air again, and the other dragons followed. It was true that Kemir felt a lot better for having some bread and water inside him. He had no idea where they were going and his head and his nose still hurt like buggery. But they were alive. The King of the Crags had come after them and they'd bloodied his nose too. Nine riders dead, one rider and three dragons taken. That was a start, wasn't it?

  He closed his eyes. He tried not to think about the town Snow had burned. He tried not to think about the people who had lived there: the men who had simply wanted to feed their families, the women who only wanted to see their sons grow into men, the children who-

  The children who might have one day grown to be alchemists, poisoning my kind with their potions? The women who bear dragon-rider sons? The men who build their castles and forge their swords and harvest their food? Do not say they have done nothing, Kemir.

  They sheltered under the wings of the dragon-lords and in turn the dragon-lords stood on their backs.
Perhaps that ought to have been enough. Perhaps Snow was right. Or perhaps not. Perhaps Snow was wrong and they really had done nothing. Either way, Nadira was not one of them. You shouldn't have eaten her.

  And you should not have tried to force yourself on this female, Kemir, yet you did. Why? Because it is the essential naturt of your kjnd, that is why. You are what you are and so am I.

  The dragon-rider. He'd almost forgotten that he'd tried to rape her. Would have raped her if Snow hadn't stopped him. Vaguely he knew that it would have been wrong. Sollos would have stopped him too. But somehow he couldn't find any feelings of regret. No remorse. Not much of anything. When the dragons had finished with her, he'd probably settle for killing her. That would do. Would probably be a mercy by then.

  Wasn't that what Snow had said about Nadira? That she wanted to die?

  Do you know how many dragons fly at the command of King Valmeyan, Kemir? I know that you do not, but I see the answer in the thoughts of this rider. Four hundred and then more, Kemir. Knowledge that is useful. We have taken but three today. Do not waste your thoughts on that which you cannot change. Dwell on that which you can. Think on that, Kemir. Three is a beginning, nothing more.

  We. She had said 'we' again. Kemir tried to think about the town, about Nadira, but the memories kept sliding away. He looked left and right at the three dragons flying alongside Snow, one a mustard yellow, another a sooty grey who reminded him of a dragon he'd seen somewhere before, and Sunset, a gleaming ruddy brown. Yes, it was a beginning. A beginning of what, though?

  As he wondered, unease settled deep into his bones. Am I becoming like her? Or was I always this way?

  35

  The Heart and the Head

  Jehal leaned into his walking staff. At least he could walk now, even if one of his legs was still next to useless and every step made him wince. Jeiros wanted him back in bed, numb with Dreamleaf, but Jehal had had enough of both. He hauled himself out of the Tower of Dusk and found no guards on the doors to stop him. No Adamantine Men in sight at all except for a few up on the walls. He stopped at the doors, half afraid to step out into the Gateyard. The sunlight was overwhelming. So bright.