City of Ice

by Laurence Yep

  Now!

  She ignored the agony as she brought her wings down in a great stroke, hurtling into the air at a point barely a dozen feet above and away from Uncle Resak. She crashed into Badik with the noise of two locomotives colliding.

  Her momentum carried him backward several yards, and rearing upward, she brought up all her legs and tried to rake him with her claws. Metal screeched as her claws scored his armor, and then his paws were able to grab hers. The two dragons twisted chest to chest, grappling with one another in an aerial wrestling match. Bayang, though, knew her injured wing would not allow her to stay aloft for very for long. She had to bring the combat to the ground as quickly as possible.

  Whipping her head around on her long neck, she tried to use her skull like a club, hoping to stun him so that he would fall to the floor. However, Badik ducked; at the same time he swept his long tail with a whoosh against Bayang and flung Bayang tumbling toward her right.

  Scirye gave a cry as Badik darted forward, with talons ready to gut Bayang. But Bayang had pulled her injured wing in tight against her body while flapping her good one. The motion sent her rolling to the side so that her enemy hurtled past.

  Badik nearly hit the far wall before he was able to halt. He did a swift loop so he could face her again. “You’ll hound me no more, Bayang of the Moonglow,” he puffed, “because today I’m going to crush you as I have so many of your miserable clan.”

  “And today I’ll pay you back for some of the misery you’ve caused, Badik of the Fire Rings,” Bayang panted. Even though her wing pained her, she tried to fly normally because she didn’t dare reveal the weakness to her foe.

  Screaming their war cries, they clashed beneath the domed ceiling, swooping and circling as graceful as hawks but far more deadly. Claws clacked together in blow and counterblow. Heads darted and ducked as they tried to tear at each other’s throats.

  Bayang could see that trying to fly and fight in the cold was getting to the both of them. Their chests heaved already and their breath fountained from their nostrils in steamy plumes that wreathed their heads. They could not continue fighting in the air for long.

  Badik must have realized it too. With a sudden motion of his wings he bolted toward the ceiling, trying to gain some height.

  Bayang’s own wounded wing was sending jagged bolts of fire through her with every stroke now. You’ve waited all your life for this moment, she thought to herself. You can’t give up now. So she drove herself upward in a spiral.

  Despite her best efforts, though, she could not get ahead of him, nor could he gain the advantage either. Her wing was a constant torture now and she was growing very tired.

  Then Bayang heard Leech cry out, “Don’t die, Bayang. I need you. We need you.”

  “Yes,” Scirye shouted encouragingly. “Yashe, yashe!”

  Kles, Leech, and Koko joined their voices to hers and soon Roxanna was copying them, echoing the ancient battle cry.

  They were Bayang’s friends, her true clan. She was fighting for them now and not just the folk of the Moonglow.

  They’re depending on you, she told herself. She felt the energy surge through her.

  Then the clan warriors, ringing Uncle Resak protectively, began to bay and roar their approval.

  She re-doubled her efforts so that she rose a few precious yards above Badik, but her wing was now a sheet of fire.

  This will have to do, she said to herself. In a few seconds, she would not be able to bear the pain any longer and the wing would become useless.

  When she was young, her old instructor, Sergeant Pandai, had pounded the same lesson over and over into Bayang’s skull. She could hear the raspy voice even now: “Always control your speed and direction. A reckless dragon is a dead dragon.”

  Bayang was desperate. So she did something that would have fetched her a cuff on the ear from the sergeant: She snapped her wings against her sides so that she plummeted like a steel tank. She felt Badik’s fangs gash her neck—but fortunately not near a major artery or vein. And then she thudded into him, an instant later, using the claws of all four paws to slash whatever she could reach—wing, chest, leg, or head.

  Badik screeched in agony. There was no song that could have sounded sweeter to Bayang. As he fell, she plunged with him, her claws continuing to tear and gash.

  They crashed hard against the ice, throwing up crystalline shards. Badik was beneath her and she heard his wing bones snap and he let out a groan.

  In torment herself, Bayang raised her head, trying to focus her bleary eyes. When she saw his exposed throat, she opened her jaws wide.

  But just as she was about to seize his windpipe and choke the life from him, she heard Roland shout, “I’m here.”

  Bayang started to raise her head to look for him and Badik shoved her off.

  The next moment, there was an explosion and Badik and the room disappeared in a blinding sheet of white light.

  39

  Scirye

  Scirye’s hands had flown to her mouth to stifle her cry of alarm as Bayang lay sprawled on top of the inert Badik. Then Badik gave a moan and Bayang reared her head, jaws stretching open, fangs ready to bite Badik’s exposed throat.

  The next moment, Scirye caught the motion from the corner of her eye. She whirled around in time to see Roland emerging from the huge bulge on the giant Tisheruk’s side. Roland had squirmed out past his shoulders and in one hand was a knife and in the other was a golden sphere the size of a softball.

  Too late, she realized how he had fooled them. Roland had hidden inside the bump instead of a parasite, perhaps using some spells to force his way under the monster’s hide and let him breathe. While they had been distracted by the battle between the two dragons, he had used the knife to rip an opening in the skin.

  “I’m here,” Roland hollered. Flinging an arm up over his eyes, he tossed the globe toward the two dragons.

  Even as the object descended, Badik heaved Bayang off him.

  And then there was a flash as brilliant as the sun. Everyone’s eyes, especially the animals’, would have adjusted for the dim illumination of the lanterns. Light as bright as that would blind and daze everyone temporarily.

  Scirye stood there stunned with all the others, unable to see, only hear. Wings flapped overhead as Kles flew about wildly. She heard a thump as Leech crashed against the floor.

  There was the sound of flesh ripping as Roland widened the opening with his knife. “You’ve given me a lot of trouble for a beast, Resak,” he announced. “So I’ll take your head as well as your staff. And then I’ll take care of the dragon and her brats.”

  “To me, children, to me,” Resak roared, attempting to rally his warriors. “Use your noses and not your eyes.”

  Growling and snarling, the clan warriors began to sniff the air loudly as they tried to protect their lord.

  Amid the frantic noises, she barely heard Roland’s knife clatter on the ice. Straining her ears in that direction, she just made out the ominous click of a hammer being drawn back on a revolver. She could have cried in frustration. Roland would kill Uncle Resak before anyone could stop him.

  Then Scirye heard Roxanna shout, “Upach, stop him!”

  There was only one of Scirye’s companions who would not have been dazzled by the light, and that was the ifrit who never depended on her eyes.

  The scent of smoke tickled Scirye’s nostrils as the ifrit raced past to intercept Roland. Scirye was just starting to cheer the ifrit on when she heard the crack of a revolver and Upach cried out.

  “Do you think I’d use ordinary bullets?” Roland’s mocking tone turned to incredulity. “What?” He fired a second and then a third. “Why won’t you die?”

  Apparently, the ifrit was still trying to obey Roxanna’s orders.

  Two more shots followed.

  “I’m sorry, mis—,” Upach began, but her voice faded away.

  Roxanna’s voice was full of rage and grief: “Upach!”

  Roland’s revolver cracke
d a sixth time, and this time it was Uncle Resak grunting in pain. A moment later there was a heavy thud. Despite the clan warriors encircling their lord, Roland had been able to hit Resak after finishing off the loyal ifrit.

  Rage overcame all else and claws clacked on the ice as the clan warriors charged toward the spot where Roland had fired his pistol. Even Scirye ignored the danger to herself and stumbled toward where she had heard Uncle Resak fall.

  She was nearly knocked off her feet by one furry body. Just as she was regaining her balance, a paw swished by her ear. Desperate to avenge Uncle Resak, the clan warriors were mindlessly attacking whoever was next to them. She was in danger of being trampled or clawed to death.

  All around her were howls of rage and pain as the warriors cuffed and bit one another, more of a threat to one another than to Roland.

  Scirye’s heart sank when she heard him shout in triumph, “I’ve got it.” In the confusion, Roland had slipped through the warriors and taken his prize. Already his voice was moving away as he fled. “Badik,” he panted, “turn eighty degrees. The tunnel will be straight ahead. Clear the way for me.”

  The next instant came the noise of Badik’s body crushing anyone who got in his way, whether they were his human allies or the warriors of the clan. The thumps of colliding bodies mixed with yelps and yells of pain.

  Roland’s boots scraped the ice as he followed the dragon. Scirye pivoted and raced toward the sound. “He’s getting away,” she hollered.

  “Badik, duck your head,” Roland instructed his dragon. “The tunnel mouth’s almost in front of you.”

  “Don’t leave us, Mr. Roland,” a freebooter hollered in English.

  “You’ve outlived your usefulness,” Roland taunted, his voice reverberating already from the tunnel.

  “But you promised to help us take back Nova Hafnia,” the freebooter protested.

  There was a thunderous blast, and Scirye felt the burst of warm air and thought she could smell an even heavier whiff of gunpowder than that from the gunshots as ice crashed and tumbled onto the floor. Roland must have used a grenade to block pursuit.

  “Kles, Kles,” Scirye called urgently.

  She heard the flutter of wings. “Here,” Kles said, and when she raised an arm she felt the griffin’s welcome weight. “But I can’t see.”

  Kles crawled up her arm tentatively, testing each inch before he moved on. When she put a hand out to steady him, she could feel how he was trembling. He was her brave one, the smart one, the dignified one. However, the sudden loss of his sight had scared him, so she stroked him as she would a frightened kitten. His tiny tongue tickled when he licked her palm in gratitude.

  When his small body had stilled a little, she shouted out again, “Bayang? Uncle Resak? Upach?”

  “I’m all right,” the dragon panted in pain, “but Badik got away while my eyes were dazzled by that flash of light.”

  “Calm yourself, little cub,” Uncle Resak reassured her as well. But his words were strained. “He only hit me in the shoulder, but it hurt enough to make me lose my grip on my staff. It’s really Yi’s bow. Lord Yü himself gave it to me.”

  “So you did have part of Yi’s weapon,” Bayang said.

  “But your staff was straight up and down,” Leech said. “And it was so thick.”

  Remembering her archery lesson in Paris, Scirye said, “Maybe the ring makes the archer strong enough to bend it. Roland could string it then.”

  “I wish you’d told us,” Bayang said in an accusing tone.

  “I’ve guarded that secret even more than the location of my palace,” Uncle Resak gruffed. “Not even my children knew. Do you expect me to tell strangers?”

  “Upach?” Roxanna called out suddenly. The fear and worry were plain. Scirye had felt those same emotions when she hadn’t known what had happened to Kles.

  But Upach made no answer.

  “Will someone help me find my servant?” Roxanna pleaded so plaintively that it nearly broke Scirye’s heart.

  Tears running freely down her cheeks, Scirye began to shuffle forward, hands groping for…what? The ifrit was smoke. Still Scirye stumbled on, adding her voice to Roxanna’s: “Upach?”

  “No hollering.” Upach’s voice was as thin as a wisp as she strained to talk. “It’s undignified. I won’t stand for it, you hear?”

  As Scirye headed toward the sound, she heard the noise of another muffled explosion. Roland must have detonated another grenade to block the tunnel farther along the route. He was taking no chances. Despite their best efforts, he had escaped. And with each second he was getting farther and farther away from justice.

  Scirye moved toward the location of the ifrit’s voice. First she’d take care of her friends. Then she’d take care of Roland.

  And at their next encounter, she wouldn’t underestimate him.

  40

  Leech

  It took several minutes before Leech could make out blurred shapes, but once that happened his vision seemed to clear rapidly. He was grateful that the ice worms had begun glowing once more, though as yet the light in the chamber was still a soft twilight, but the Dancer was flashing and squeezing his wrist. Was it frightened again?

  He slipped his fingers under his glove so he could pet it soothingly as he called out, “Koko?”

  “Right here, buddy.” Koko was shuffling toward him. “So that’s what it’s like to see lightning up close and personal,” Koko said, blinking his eyes rapidly as he tried to clear them. “It’s hard on the peepers.”

  With Koko’s help, Leech stood up. He was relieved to see that Uncle Resak was breathing. Bayang was sitting up on her haunches as she waited for her vision to come back, but except for her damaged wing, she seemed to be all right.

  Kles was blinking his eyes rapidly as if trying to clear his vision while he sat upon Scirye’s shoulder, but Scirye herself seemed to have already recovered some of her eyesight and so had Roxanna—enough of it anyway to try to help Upach, who was a couple of yards away from the bear-man.

  The two girls knelt, patting at the ifrit’s smoky body, trying to keep the small tan-colored cloud from dissipating. Within it were five dark blunt shapes that might have been the bullets.

  Upach extended a smoky ribbon and feebly tried to push Roxanna’s hands away. “I won’t stand for this fuss, you hear? You know how upset your tummy gets when you worry like this. And then who is it who has to clean up the mess?”

  “Oh, be quiet, you old worrywart. You’re more important than my digestion,” Roxanna scolded, trying to blink back her tears. “I’m going to take care of you for a change. So don’t you die. I won’t stand for it, you hear. I won’t.”

  The ifrit appealed to Leech, who had stumbled over to the two girls. “Sir, she’ll listen to you. Make her stop. I won’t have my little chick sad.”

  Leech shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I have to agree with Roxanna. You’re like her right hand.” And he joined them in trying to keep the smoke together. A moment later, his joints popping, Koko added his paws to the rescue attempt.

  “I won’t put up with it,” Upach grumbled, and tried again to shove Roxanna away, but she was even weaker now. Fast losing her ability to stay together, the ribbon broke apart.

  “I think she kept trying to get Roland even after she was hurt,” Roxanna said tearfully. “That’s why she’s so close to Uncle Resak. Because she kept coming, Roland rushed things. His shot missed any vital spot on Uncle Resak, but Roland didn’t dare wait long enough to finish killing Uncle. He just wanted to steal his treasure and leave.” She twisted around suddenly. “Please, Lady Scirye. Ask Nana to save Upach.”

  Scirye’s hands paused in mid-air and Leech saw his friend break out in a cold sweat. She must have been scared of asking the goddess for anything else. “I would if I could, but Nanaia doesn’t listen to me. I’m just her tool. You wouldn’t care what a pair of pliers thinks.”

  “You’re her chosen one,” Roxanna begged. “I saw her statue move. And she war
ned you in the dream.”

  “Yes,” Scirye said, “but I never know when she’s going to do something like that.” She saw the wretched expression on Roxanna’s face. “Well, if she won’t do it as a favor to me, maybe I can make her see that it’s in her own interests.”

  Closing her eyes, she screwed her eyebrows together in intense concentration and held out her hands.

  “Please don’t get annoyed,” she pleaded. “Roxanna and Upach are your faithful servants and my friends. They’re helping me in my quest. I need them if you want me to carry out your plan.”

  When nothing happened, she opened her eyes again. “I’m sorry. She does what she wants.”

  Leech’s eyes cleared just in time to see despair replace hope on Roxanna’s face.

  Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t understand. I saw the miracle. And then she saved us from Amagjat.”

  “I don’t understand either,” Scirye confessed helplessly. Tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes and froze midway down her cheeks.

  Roxanna turned back to Upach. While she had been distracted begging Scirye’s help, her servant’s body began to thin out and dissipate. Frantically, Roxanna tried to gather the escaping streamers and fan them together. “Then Upach…” Her voice broke.

  Leech gave a start when he felt something extra cold and wet wrapping itself around his leg. Had Roland left behind one more bit of mischief, some sort of monster with tentacles? Puzzled, Leech glanced down and saw the streamer of mist that snaked across the floor from the blocked tunnel. A team of bears was working frantically there to clear it, heaving blocks of ice recklessly in every direction. Heat from the explosion had created a pool of water.

  “Upach, could you hold your shape in water?” Leech asked.

  “Better than in air,” she said. The voice was barely above a whisper now.

  “There’s a puddle over there,” Leech pointed.

  The girls glanced toward it.