Song of Dragons: The Complete Trilogy

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Song of Dragons: The Complete Trilogy Page 71

by Daniel Arenson


  "Damn it!" she shouted. Her Beam dimmed, then extinguished.

  The nightshades howled with new vigor, cackled, and swooped toward her. Their eyes burned like collapsing stars. Their maws opened wide, revealing white teeth. She felt them tugging at her soul, tearing piece by piece from her body. She growled and screamed.

  "Not again, you don't," she said and gritted her teeth. They had stolen her soul once, and the memory still flooded her with terror.

  Damn my missing hand! If I had two hands, I could hold on with one, and fire the Beam with the other. She howled in rage. I'm crippled now. I can't even fight any more.

  Arrows flew, mimic dragons bit, and Volucris swerved and soared and dipped and spun. Agnus Dei bounced atop him, flew into the air, and fell back onto him. The ground spun below her, distant, swarming with mimics and monsters. Rays of fire and smoke shot around her through the sky. The Beam began to slip from under her arm, but she dared not release her fistful of Volucris's fur. The nightshades howled and flowed around her, brushing her with their icy bodies, and she screamed. She felt her soul being ripped away, pulled from her like stuffing from a torn doll.

  She shook her head wildly, struggling to cling to herself. I need my hand.

  "Volucris!" she screamed. "Catch me."

  She released his fur and leaped off his back.

  She fell through fire and smoke and raining blood, the battle spinning around her. The nightshades yanked her soul, and she saw her body tumbling below her, shouting in the night.

  Volucris's talons caught her, knocking the breath out of her, nearly knocking the Beam from her grasp.

  Her soul slammed back into her body.

  She grabbed the skull with her good hand.

  Rays of light blazed out, spinning and crackling, bleaching the world. They seared nightshades, slicing them in half. More nightshades screamed to her left, and she spun the Beam, burning them.

  Kyrie flew by her on his griffin, waving his own Beam. "The damn things keep coming," he shouted. "Agnus Dei, you all right?"

  She nodded, held in Volucris's grip. "Take the north, Kyrie! I'll deal with the south. The nightshades are tearing into the salvanae. We've got to do better."

  He nodded and flew off, firing rays of light.

  "Fly into them, Volucris," she shouted. "The cluster of them in the south. Let's burn them."

  The griffin shrieked and flew, crashing into hundreds of nightshades. Their screams nearly tore her eardrums. She held her Beam before her, cutting into them. White smoke rose from them, and they crumbled and rained like ash.

  Agnus Dei glanced below her and cursed. Dies Irae's forces spread into the distance. She could see no end to them. Mimics and snowbeasts swarmed closer to King's Column, tearing into the lines of Earth God followers. She saw Mother fighting there, surrounded by mimics. Every second, another Earthen fell dead.

  Lights blazed below. The mimics were lighting arrows. The flaming missiles shot into the sky. Hundreds blazed around her like comets. Three flew so close, she felt them stir the air. One arrow grazed her thigh, tearing her skin, and slammed into Volucris's belly.

  The griffin shrieked and bucked, tossing Agnus Dei in his talons. More arrows flew. One whistled an inch from Agnus Dei's face, sliced through her hair, and slammed into Volucris's neck.

  Three mimic dragons swooped upon them, and Agnus Dei gritted her teeth.

  Fire, blood, and darkness exploded. Mimic claws of steel scratched. Eyes blazed. Feathers fell and blood streamed down Volucris.

  "Fly, Volucris!" Agnus Dei cried. "Get out of here, fly south."

  He tried to flap his wings, but the mimic dragons tore into them, biting, tearing off feathers. Flaming arrows flew. They slammed into his belly, his neck, and one into his head. The Griffin King roared, but still he held Agnus Dei in his talons.

  Smoke and tears filled her eyes, and Agnus Dei screamed.

  "Let me go," she shouted. "Let me fall. Use your talons!"

  But still he held her in his left talons, fighting only with his right. The mimic dragons cackled and flew at his left side. Agnus Dei pointed the Beams at them, but they were not nightshades; it would not burn them. They bit into Volucris, tore off chunks of his flesh, and began to eat.

  "Volucris!" Agnus Dei screamed. She dropped the Beam and caught it between her legs. She drew her sword and swung it, but could not reach the mimic dragons.

  The nightshades howled and wrapped around Volucris's neck.

  Arrows whistled, slammed into Volucris, and fire blazed across him.

  "No!" Agnus Dei cried, horror pounding through her. Her eyes burned so badly, she could barely see. "Volucris!"

  Flaming arrows peppered him... and Volucris, King of Griffins, fell from the sky.

  The ground spun, racing up toward her. Agnus Dei cursed, freed herself from the talons, and scurried up Volucris's leg. She leaped onto his back, but he was still falling. She clung to his fur with her good hand. Her Beam tumbled, and the night swallowed it.

  "Fly, Volucris!" she screamed and tugged his fur. The air roared around her. Fire and smoke churned everywhere. They spun. "Fly, damn you, fly!"

  His eyes rolled back. He gave her a last stare. He cawed softly.

  The ground rushed up, black and white and red, mimics racing across it.

  Volucris's wings flapped once. He managed to steady himself, to slow his fall.

  Mimic javelins flew.

  They slammed into him. One tore through his neck, emerging bloody near Agnus Dei's cheek. She cried. Volucris slammed into the ground.

  At once, mimics came rushing forward. They began to hack the griffin, climb upon him, and eat his flesh. Agnus Dei howled and leaped to her feet, standing atop Volucris, swinging her sword.

  "You will not touch him, scavengers!" she cried. Tears in her eyes, she leaped off Volucris's body, slamming herself into the ranks of mimics.

  She fought against hundreds of mimics, snowbeasts, and skeletons. They surrounded her, and she sprayed their blood upon the snow. She could not see her forces. Mother fought across the forest, hundreds of yards away. The others flew above between the flaming arrows and bolts of lightning. She stood alone.

  "But I will not die alone," she said and growled. "I will take hundreds of you with me."

  Her sword swung. For Requiem. For her parents. For her sister. For Kyrie. She fought. A mimic cut her leg with a blade, and she fell, screaming. She swung her sword, cutting it down. Salvanae lightning rained from the sky, white and purple, torching the dead trees. Fire and smoke filled the air, melting the snow, intolerably hot against her cheeks. She coughed and snarled and narrowed her eyes as she fought.

  A howl rose above the din of battle.

  A great shadow emerged from the flames, shoving mimics aside.

  It came marching toward her, snarling and drooling blood. Mimics fled from it. It was a mimic too, but taller and burlier than the others. It had a bull's head and four arms. Its four hands held an axe, a spear, a sword, and a warhammer.

  The bull's lips opened, and it spoke in a growl. "Agnus Dei...." It raised the hand holding the sword. "Do you recognize this hand, Agnus Dei? I thank you for it."

  Agnus Dei stared, eyes narrowed. Its hand was long and slender, a woman's hand. My hand. Ice washed her belly.

  "No," she whispered, shaking her head. Stars, no.

  The bull mimic smirked. "I will kill you with your own hand, weredragon."

  It lunged toward her, its four weapons swinging. Agnus Dei screamed, a howl of horror and rage. My hand. It has my hand. She ran through the blood, leaped, and swung her sword.

  The mimic's sword clanged with her own. Sparks rained. Its axe swung over her head, narrowly missing it. Its warhammer glanced off her vambrace, and its spear grazed her shoulder.

  She screamed, pulled back, and slashed her sword again. The mimic swung its blade, parrying, and thrust. Agnus Dei blocked the blow, but barely. It glanced off her shoulder, tearing her shirt. Its warhammer swung, and she ducked, dodg
ing it. She lashed her blade and hit the mimic's chest. Blood spurted, but it only laughed and swung its axe and sword.

  I can't beat it. Stars, I can't win this battle. We can't win this war.

  The mimic growled and lashed its spear. She parried, driving it aside, but the axe swung too, and she leaped. It hit her pauldron, denting the steel, sending pain through her.

  No! Don't give up. Never give up. Not until death. I will fight so long as I live. She screamed and thrust her blade. The mimic parried, laughing, blood and centipedes spilling from its wound. Hundreds of mimics formed a ring around them, howling, watching the fight.

  Agnus Dei leaped sideways, and the axe clanged against her armor. The sword nicked her hip, drawing blood. She spun, swinging her blade, and slammed it into the mimic's leg. She cut deep into its flesh, and when she pulled it free, bugs spilled. The mimic laughed, spraying saliva, and advanced toward her. It lashed all four weapons.

  She ducked and parried, and the spear ran down her thigh, scraping skin. The warhammer hit her blade, shattering it.

  Agnus Dei fell onto her back, staring up in horror.

  She clenched her jaw.

  Goodbye, Mother, sister, Kyrie. I love you all. Goodbye.

  Its axe came down.

  Agnus Dei screamed and raised her arm.

  The axe hit her vambrace, shattering it. The blade cut her skin, but the armor had blocked most of the blow. It did not reach bone. I won't lose my second hand so easily.

  She tossed the hilt of her sword. The broken shards of blade slammed into the mimic's eyes.

  It howled.

  Agnus Dei leaped to her feet, grabbed its axe, and pulled it free.

  The mimic pulled the shattered blade from its face. It had pierced its forehead and right eye. The creature grinned, worms and drool dripping from its maw.

  Agnus Dei swung her axe and cut off its hand—her hand. It landed at her feet.

  "How does it feel, bastard?" she screamed and swung her axe. The blade drove into its neck, tore through the stitches that held the bull's head to the torso, and emerged dripping from the other side.

  For a second, the mimic stood still.

  Then its head slid off its body and splashed against the ground.

  Agnus Dei swung her axe, opening its skull. Snakes filled the skull instead of brains. They fled. The mimic's body tried to keep fighting, but was blind. Agnus Dei hacked at it, screaming hoarsely.

  "How does it feel, you bastard?! You will feel this too, Irae. You will feel my blade."

  She hacked at it until it fell, cut to pieces. She grabbed a burning branch and tossed it onto the body. Soon it blazed in a pyre, drying her tears.

  Her hand burned with it.

  Agnus Dei wiped her eyes and spat onto the burning body. She looked around her, panting. Countless mimics still surrounded her. They howled, brandished their blades, and attacked.

  TERRA

  The battle raged around him, a song of light and fire in the night. Salvanae and mimic dragons battled above. Griffins and nightshades streamed at his sides. Beasts crawled and grunted below him, slamming against Lacrimosa and her troops. Everywhere he looked, he saw flame, smoke, and lightning.

  The battle is lost, he realized. We are overrun.

  He growled, remembering the war that had killed his people, that had shattered his family. His growl turned into a roar.

  I am the last bellator. I will defend Requiem to my last breath. If we die here tonight, I die with blood on my talons, and the flesh of my enemies in my jaws.

  He howled and dived, knocking between the hordes of flying mimics, and blazed fire across the ruins of King's Forest. Skeletons withered in his flames. Poisoned ran like living torches. And yet more kept coming, wave after wave of them, their ranks stretching into the darkness. Mimic giants, each limb woven of dead bodies, charged through the ranks of Earthen, tossing men and women aside, roaring to the sky.

  Terra swooped toward one giant, readying his fire. Before he could reach it, squeals rose in the night around him. A hundred creatures burst from the shadows, shooting toward him. They looked like great bats, but they were mimics. Terra grunted with disgust. Dies Irae had taken men and women, stripped their bodies away below their shoulders, and left them with only heads, outstretched arms, and spines. He had pulled skin between their wrists and tailbones, crafting them wings to flap. They flew at him, biting, their eyes blazing red.

  Terra blew his fire, spraying it in all directions. He fought down nausea; he had never seen anything so hideous.

  They were people once. Stars, they were people. He clenched his jaw. But they are not people now. The only mercy I can give them is the mercy of fire.

  He roared, summoned more flame, but had no time to shoot it. More bats emerged from the darkness, smoking and screeching, and flew onto him. They covered his back and crawled along his wings, biting and scratching.

  Terra roared and flapped his wings, but the creatures clung to him. Their teeth bit, and he howled in pain. He shook and flapped his tail against them. They scurried across him, screeching. When he knocked one off, three more swooped from the darkness onto him.

  "Terra!" a voice cried above.

  "Kyrie!" Terra shouted. "Get out of here. You fight the nightshades."

  Kyrie swooped down on his griffin, his sword drawn. Ash painted his face and hair. Blood trickled down his cheek. I remember him a boy, Terra thought through the haze of pain. He is a warrior now. As the mimics bit him, and as the fires burned, Terra felt pride well inside him. My brother is a warrior of Requiem.

  "You've got something on you," Kyrie said, hovering over him. His griffin leaned sideways, and Kyrie swung his sword, hacking off the bats. They shouted and fell into darkness.

  Terra shook himself and turned around, and Kyrie hacked at the other bats, slicing them and knocking them off. Terra's wings blazed in pain. He could barely flap them. He felt the wind rushing through holes the bats had left.

  "How are those nightshades?" he called over the roar of battle.

  Kyrie ducked, dodging a salvanae that roared above him, flying at a mimic dragon.

  "We're handling the nightshades," he shouted back. "It's the ground I'm worried about. The Earthen are being butchered down there."

  Terra nodded. "Going to swoop again. I—"

  A great dragon of rot and stitch burst from the clouds, tumbling toward them, blazing. It crashed into Terra with smoke and heat and howls, and he saw nothing but fire and darkness.

  "Kyrie!" he shouted. He tried to flap his wings, but they burned, and he grimaced. The mimic dragon blazed, but still lived, snapping its teeth and clawing at Terra. He growled and bit into its neck, tearing out a chunk of arms and legs, but could not shake the beast loose. Its weight shoved him down, and he tumbled. He crashed against a salvanae who flew below, and then more mimic bats were on him, biting his tail and legs.

  Terra roared, tumbled upside down, and crashed into the ground.

  The mimic dragon rolled off him, and Terra shoved himself up. He swung his tail, knocking the mimic's head aside, then spun to face a horde of skeletons racing toward him.

  He lashed his tail, knocking them over, and slashed his claws, hitting leaping wolf mimics.

  "Kyrie!" he shouted. He looked up, but saw only smoke, coiling salvanae, and flaming arrows. He tried to flap his wings, but the mimic bats were covering them again, biting and weighing them down.

  Roars pierced the night, and footfalls shook the ground. Terra turned to face the sounds. From the smoke and fire, three towering reptiles charged forward, each the size of a dragon.

  "Perfect," Terra muttered, howled, and roared fire.

  He had been blowing flames for hours, and could muster only a weak spray. It barely fazed the reptiles. They crashed forward, stepping onto mimics, and leaned in to bite.

  Terra lashed his claws and lacerated one's head. He swiped his tail, hitting another's flank. The third bit his arm and tugged him down.

  Growling, Terr
a kicked and hit one. It fell back, and he blew whatever fire he still had, hitting a second reptile. Each was his size, with claws and fangs like swords. Claws scratched along Terra's back, and he rolled over, kicking and biting.

  A reptile crashed down onto him, knocking his breath out. Terra clawed at its face. He pushed it off and tried to fly, but could not. The bats tugged on his wings, pulling them to the ground.

  "Here goes nothing," Terra said... and shifted into a human.

  The bats fell off him. The reptiles crashed around him. Terra ran between one's legs. He drew his sword as he ran and swung it, slicing the creature's hamstrings. It fell behind him, and Terra ran through the snow. He jumped into the air, shifted, and flew.

  The reptiles howled. Terra spun, swooped, and rained his last reserves of fire. The creatures blazed and fell, burning.

  Terra soared into the aerial battle, flying through smoke and fire and battling creatures. He gazed over the battle and his heart sank. Thousands of salvanae and griffins lay dead upon the ground, mimics tearing into them. Dozens were falling around him from the sky, bitten, bristly with arrows, crackling with fire. Terra searched the air for the other Vir Requis, but couldn't see them through the smoke and lightning.

  When he looked below him, Terra's spirits sank deeper. Dies Irae's ground forces still covered King's Forest, stretching as far as he could see. Lacrimosa and Silva still stood by King's Column, swinging their swords, but their forces had been decimated. Hills of dead Earthen rose around them.

  Terra swooped. He had no fire left, but he clawed at skeletons, at mimics, at the dark forces that kept charging. He roared in the night.

  KYRIE ELEISON

  His griffin plummeted, blazing. The smoke flew over Kyrie, stinging his eyes, entering his nostrils, choking him. He coughed and clung to the griffin. He wanted to shift, and tried to summon his magic, but too many Animating Stones pulsed around him.

  "Gloriae!" he shouted. "Agnus Dei!"

 

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