Dragon Queen

by Stephen Deas

  Would they trouble a dragon? She looked past Tsen across the dragon yard to where the monster was perched on the far wall. It was staring at the approaching glasships with the fixed intensity of a predator. Even from here she could feel its restless tension. She could feel its hunger. It wants to fly, Belli said. He was on the wall too now but on the far side, close to the dragon and with the rider beside him. Liang bristled as she saw them. It had been a bad day from the start and now she had to get this slave – Zafir, was it? – to cooperate when neither of them liked each other even one little bit. A slave who owned slaves of her own? Tsen should never have allowed that; and the woman might have been a queen in her own land but here she certainly wasn’t. She was a slave, that was all. An unbranded slave, which made her a nothing, yet she strutted as though she was mistress of everyone.

  Mentally Liang slapped herself. The alchemist was an unbranded slave too, and they got on just fine. Or they had until the rider had shown up with Tsen. The whole eyrie had heard about what had happened next. It had run through the slaves like wildfire. And in Tsen’s own gondola too, and barely a few minutes after she’d arrived! Disgusting.

  Jealous, Liang?

  Yes, she was, and deathly disappointed that Belli would do something like that, and damn the stupid alchemist because he seemed to worship the ground on which this woman trod when he should really have known better. She treated him like a slave and he took it! He took it as though it was perfectly normal, when he was the one who made this eyrie work, he was the one who made the potions and tamed the monsters. What did she do? Nothing! She could fly their monster, could she? But so far all she’d done was flaunt herself and strut and look down her nose at everyone. Everyone! She barely deigned to show any respect even for Tsen.

  Liang huffed and turned her back on the Vespinese glasships. Stupid to let a slave get under her skin like that. She walked to the dragon yard. Bellepheros had come down from the wall to be with the Scales now, herding the hatchlings towards the wall to make space for the gondolas to land. She laughed a little as she walked over to him. Wouldn’t do for Tsen’s visitors to catch the dragon disease now would it? It had already crept out once and now Belli had all sorts of quarantine rules in place. No one is to have intimate relations with anyone else for two months. He’d actually said that, and when she’d blinked and looked at him and he’d smiled at her and said, I mean no sex – that’s how it usually spreads, she’d turned bright red. And yes, it had been funny, because yes, she was a bit of a prude, even among the Taiytakei, but at least she wasn’t too full of her own importance to admit it. The alchemist, as always, was shockingly direct. All he could ever find to do with her squeamishness was laugh at it. Usually she ended up laughing too; and obviously she had known what he was talking about in the first place.

  Today her laughter died. No intimate relations? Tell that to your rider. Tell that to yourself every time she’s around. Maybe the slave could catch the disease. Liang smiled again at that. She’d seen what it was already doing to the Scales. Wouldn’t that be a shame?

  She waved at Belli in the dragon yard and he waved back, warning her not to get too close, and then he left the hatchlings with their Scales and came to greet her. He always used to smile when he saw her but not any more, not since Zafir had come.

  ‘We have visitors,’ she told him. ‘They’ll want to see you. They’ll want to see the dragon too.’

  ‘They can probably see Diamond Eye already.’ Yes, and there was another thing. He’d taken to calling the dragon by that name the moment she had told him to. Liang looked up at the battlements. Zafir sat beside the monster, looking at it while the dragon lowered its head and looked back. Their faces were a few feet apart and the dragon made her seem so incredibly small. It would have made anyone seem small, but Zafir was the only one who would sit so close to it. The only one who wasn’t at least just a little bit afraid, damn her.

  ‘I don’t trust her at all,’ she muttered. ‘Look at them. It’s almost as though they’re talking about us.’

  A month ago Bellepheros might have laughed at something like that. Now he just turned away. ‘Dragons don’t talk, Liang. They have nothing to say for as long as they take my potion.’

  ‘But she does.’

  ‘Her Holiness?’ Bellepheros turned back and looked her in the eye again. ‘Of course. You’ve made her a slave. Just as you did to me and I have done to Diamond Eye.’

  Damn you, woman! Bellepheros had almost forgotten that he was a slave here. For months and months, ever since the bodyguard from his own land had been sent away, he’d never even spoken of it. Before, even. And now this rider came and suddenly it was always there and held against her again.

  Is it my fault? No! She caught his shoulder. ‘Remember, Belli. It’s not about right here and now. You told me yourself: what matters is the future, the faraway years no one else thinks to imagine. Remember what we talked about, of the way it could be between our two realms when we’re both old. Now that she’s here to show what our dragons can truly do, are we not a step closer? You should be happy!’ She looked up at the rider again, Zafir, once the speaker of the dragon realms, and suddenly she wasn’t so sure that her future would work. Was that what was bothering him? Did he see the same?

  He turned away from her and looked at the smaller dragons being tended by their Scales. ‘Whoever these people are, the older hatchlings are safe now. They shouldn’t go near the new one. If they wish to approach Diamond Eye then her Holiness must accompany them.’

  Holiness? As though she’s some sort of goddess! It made her want to retch. She swore she saw the Watcher grind his teeth every time he heard it as well. ‘When is she actually going to fly it?’ she snapped, irritation getting the better of her for a moment.

  ‘When you have finished making what I asked of you.’

  Liang threw up her hands. ‘Which I would have done by now if Tsen hadn’t demanded doors and doors and more doors and then no doors at all! Is it necessary? All of it?’

  ‘The harnesses are already done. We’re just waiting for you.’ He walked back to his hatchlings. Liang turned away as well and stalked towards the middle of the dragon yard. The glasships were overhead now, the silver gondolas of the Vespinese easing down to touch the stone. Dragon armour! He wanted her to make armour for their rider. Armour to resist the tear of the wind and the burn of the flames, and while she was at it anything else that might be thrown at the rider which, as far as Chay-Liang knew, meant that it had to turn lightning, as that was the first thing any sea lord would turn on such a monster. Even if the dragon survived, what was the use if the rider was dead? Armour of glass and gold and of dragon-scale. Tricky. Challenging. Interesting though, and for anyone else she might have relished the novelty of it, but not for this one, not for her. She’d had to deal with the slave-rider, take her measurements to get the armour right, and Zafir had left her feeling like a common tailor. Bitch.

  Oh by all the elements get a grip, woman. How old are you? She could be your daughter and she’s a slave and of course the alchemist finds her pretty. Maybe he only likes his women pale-skinned. She closed her eyes and touched her temples. Did I just think that? I did. O Charin preserve me!

  ‘Are you unwell, Enchantress?’ Tsen sidled up beside her as two of the three silver gondolas opened their doors. A handful of Taiytakei soldiers in cloaks of pure white feathers and armour of jade and silver-glass lined up, and Baran Meido and Bronzehand too, but Chay-Liang barely noticed as the third silver egg split open. Two men stepped out of it. They were both wrapped in flowing silk, pure snow-white like a slave’s tunic but each had three emerald and sapphire dragons entwined on their garments, and as the gentle breeze tugged the folds of their robes the dragons seemed to writhe and chase each other. Their cloaks were the same, a million tiny white feathers with three shifting green and b
lue dragons wrapped around one another. Even when the air fell quiet, the dragons still seemed to move. Both men wore the braids of their hair down to the ground, so long they touched the white stone of the dragon yard and dragged across it. Liang always told herself not to be impressed by cloaks and silks and feathers and braids because they were all nothing more than money, not a measure of a person’s worth at all, but today she stared. Couldn’t help herself, for the two men who’d stepped out of the silver egg were possibly the two most powerful men in all the worlds. Sea Lord Shonda of Vespinarr was certainly the richest and his t’varr, who also happened to be his brother, Vey Rin, decided on what those riches should be spent.

  As her eyes flickered from one to the other, she realised she couldn’t tell which was which. A t’varr and a sea lord standing together. Even their braids were the same length.

  ‘You’ve never seen them before, have you?’ hissed Tsen from the corner of his mouth. ‘Left or right? A salver of jade says you get it wrong.’

  Liang ignored him. On the other side of the t’varr their own sea lord sat on a chair on a gold-glass disc that Liang had made for him, and she knew that Tsen had pushed Quai’Shu up into the dragon yard himself. Quai’Shu had deteriorated steadily since Khalishtor. Moments of clarity were few and far between. Mostly he asked to be taken to see his dragon, to sit with it, which meant sitting with her, the woman who’d murdered his first son. He seemed not to notice, or else he didn’t remember, but to Liang’s surprise seeing the two of them together troubled Tsen more than anything. Liang had no idea why.

  Shonda and his t’varr stopped in front of Quai’Shu’s makeshift throne. Tsen fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to the hard white stone of the dragon yard. Liang did the same. All of them did except for Quai’Shu, who simply stayed where he was and stared blankly into the air. Sea Lord Shonda of Vespinarr took one look and wrinkled his nose. He pointed up to the dragon on the battlements. ‘Is it ready?’

  Tsen rose again, a cue to the rest of them. ‘No, Sea Lord, it is not yet ready to be flown. If you had waited a few more days—’

  ‘I came when it suited me.’ Shonda beckoned his white-cloaks and walked past Tsen and Quai’Shu towards the dragon. ‘When it’s ready to fly you can tell Mai’Choiro Kwen. He will come and you will show him.’ He swept past with Vey Rin T’Varr at his side. His white-cloaks followed and then Baran Meido and Bronzehand.

  ‘My father doesn’t look at all well. At least he’s still alive, eh?’ Meido winked at Tsen as he walked past. ‘Doesn’t look like he’s going to last much longer though.’ As Tsen fell in beside him, he leaned closer. ‘Bronzehand leaves for Qeled in a week. By the look of things I might win both my wagers without even having to do anything.’

  Liang followed a few steps behind. Tsen let out a great sigh and held up his palms. ‘I keep him as well as I can. Dragons are very dangerous creatures.’

  Shonda of Vespinarr climbed the battlement steps and stopped on the top of the wall a respectful distance from the dragon. It had noticed them now and had torn its eyes off the glasships to watch them, jaws ajar, lazily flicking its forked tongue over its sword-like teeth. The rider had noticed them too. She was standing up, preening and flaunting herself again. Liang gritted her teeth.

  ‘Impressive creature,’ said Shonda with a mildness that sounded a little forced. He turned his eyes past Tsen to Chay-Liang. ‘Will it survive your arsenal, Enchantress?’

  Liang felt herself quivering. She dug her nails into her thumb. Stop it! ‘We have yet to try, Sea Lord.’ She bowed.

  ‘It would be unwise to—’ Tsen began, but Shonda shut him up with a wave. He whispered in the ear of one of his white-cloaks. The man bowed deeply, hesitated a moment, then turned and walked towards the dragon. He stopped halfway between them and stood there. Hairs prickled on the back of Liang’s neck.

  Her mouth fell open. ‘Sea Lord, may I ask what …’

  The white-cloak pulled his golden wand from his belt.

  ‘No! Sea Lord! Please! Do not!’ She saw Zafir between the white-cloak and the dragon. The slave was shaking her head but she was smiling, the bitch was smiling. Even as the white-cloak raised his wand and pointed it at the dragon, Zafir dropped to one knee, ducked and pressed her hands over her ears. Liang looked away. The noise shook the eyrie, lightning as strong as a wand could make, a crack of thunder so loud that even the hatchlings at the far end of the dragon yard stopped snapping at one another and turned to look. The lightning hit the dragon square on the nose. Tsen and Bronzehand and a few of the white-cloaks who hadn’t had the wit to see what was coming and look away reeled and staggered, stunned by the noise and the light. Liang looked back, horrified. The dragon bared its teeth. Its eyes narrowed and its wings flared, sending a wind along the battlements that almost knocked her off her feet, but that was just the dragon keeping its balance as its tail whipped around from behind its legs. The dragon-slave threw herself flat as though she knew exactly what was coming but the white-cloak didn’t see it at all. The end of the tail took him from the side like a mountain falling from the sky. It hit him with such a force that his armour exploded, pieces flying off it in all directions. It probably shattered every bone in his body as it hurled him hundreds of feet into the air, away over the edge of the battlements. Liang watched him fall to the desert far below. He didn’t scream.

  Everyone moved at once. The white-cloaks all went for their wands. Zafir was on her feet, running straight at them, but the dragon was quickest of all. Its head shot forward. Frighteningly fast, faster than Liang had ever seen it. Its eyes were locked on Sea Lord Shonda and Liang’s blood ran cold. It knew! It had seen the sea lord give the order and it knew! Its mouth opened and Liang could feel the heat of it.

  ‘No! Stop! All of you stop!’ Zafir was between the dragon and the white-cloaks, one hand thrust out each way, palm up. ‘Do not, do not, do not!’ Her voice cut the air. The white-cloaks had surrounded Shonda, wands all raised. Shonda somehow managed to stay still. Zafir turned her head slowly to the dragon, hands still up. ‘No!’ she commanded it again. ‘You may not.’ They stared each other down, dragon and rider, for ten long heartbeats, and then Zafir’s head snapped back to the white-cloaks. ‘That was foolish. Now withdraw or it will eat you.’ She pointed a finger straight at Sea Lord Shonda. ‘It will eat him. It’s not stupid.’

  ‘Sea Lord …’ Tsen had misplaced his voice for a few seconds, but now he found it again. Another handful of heartbeats passed and no one moved. Then Shonda turned his back on the dragon and walked with deliberate slowness away.

  ‘We have seen enough,’ he said, and Liang had to admire his control. He was shaking, but only enough to see if you really looked.

  49

  Men of Stone

  Blink. Two soldiers stood in front of the Watcher, backing quickly away. The next moment he was behind them. They fell as blades thin as a hair slit them open.

  The glass palace of Elesxian was small as palaces went. Xican was a nothing place, dull and lifeless except for the docks and the sailors who came and went with the sea lords’ fleets. A fine place for listening to the wind though, and for learning what moves were afoot among the lords who sent their fleets this way. The quickest paths to both the Dominion and the dragon realms lay through the storms that danced across the seas off Xican.

  Blink. A half-shut door, two men on the far side desperately trying to close it. Glass, not that glass would keep him at bay for long. They were too slow and there was a gap and it was enough, and he was through and behind them. The bladeless knives flashed and blood sprayed across their glitter. Wasteful to kill so many. Shameful for one who’d learned to move like a ghost in shadows but he wasn’t here to kill, not really.

  Blink. A screaming servant saw him and ran. A Taiyta
kei. A little kwen or a t’varr, lowest of their rank, quivering in a corner, perhaps hoping he wouldn’t notice him. He walked on past, blood dripping from the blades that could not be seen. He wasn’t here to kill. He was here to teach.

  They’d sealed the glass palace itself. Hardly a surprise since he’d let them know he was coming so that they could do precisely that. Now he would enter it anyway and show them how futile it was to even try. That, after all, was the point. That was the lesson.

  Blink. A glass door. Sealed. The last and only entrance to the inner palace, to Elesxian’s inner heart. He tapped and listened to the music that the glass played for him and then reached out a hand and set it quivering to the same song. The door shattered. The enchanters were always finding ways to mix metal and glass together to try and defeat an Elemental Man and the Elemental Men were constantly proving that it could not be done.

  Blink. Another door. Gold. Gold or silver that wouldn’t shatter, that was far better but even then not perfect. A gold door? It was new. Elesxian’s palace had changed since last he’d been here. No matter.

  There were more soldiers coming from behind him. Ones that didn’t turn and run. He blinked behind them and slashed but for once the bladeless knives didn’t bite.

  Stoneguard. Xican’s little secret, although not as secret as Elesxian liked to think. Golem soldiers made of stone, enchanted to life and merged in some way the Watcher didn’t understand with sword-slaves. Creatures made of stone who moved as men. Enchanters’ work, a darker side of the golems they made for digging and tunnelling the ever-growing City of Stone.

  They lunged at him but he wasn’t there.

  Creatures made of stone.

  Perfect.

  He was inside them.

  50

  Damage

  Ah, the joys of hosting one’s betters! How can one ever get enough of it? They went through the motions. Tsen was good at that and always had been. A part of his mind listened to Lord Shonda and his questions, and to his own answers as he guided the Vespinese lords around his eyrie. He showed them the hatchlings and the alchemist, the Scales and the dragon-scale skins they were drying. All the while another part of him thought of his bathhouse deep in the eyrie’s heart and of Kalaiya. He’d need her tonight, her soothing words, her presence and her scent. I nearly died today he could tell her, and she’d laugh at him, but it was true. He was quite sure the dragon would have eaten them all if its rider hadn’t stopped it. A part of him wondered why she’d bothered, and yet another part of him wouldn’t have blamed her at all if she’d just let it rip them all to pieces. What sort of idiot walks up to a monster like that and hits it with a lightning bolt? He supposed he should admire the loyalty of Shonda’s white-cloak for doing it at all. Makes you wonder how loyal the rest of them will be when the next time comes.