* * *
"Buckle up, Buttercup. It's about to get bumpy," Tuck said.
Scatter shot struck the carriage. Riette hadn't been hit. She checked on Emmet, who appeared to be fine. It was too close. The firing from behind was not continuous; planes had to jockey to get into position, and Dashiq took advantage. The first hollow mountain approached fast, a huge flight deck cleared and ready for them. The dragon lined up for the landing and made a perfect target. Most of the planes veered off but two persisted. Scatter shot rained down on them. Riette was struck in the arm, and Tuck cried out. At least it hadn't been stone shot. While the scatter shot affected a wider area, it penetrated with far less force. Nonetheless, stinging welts grew on Riette's arm.
Another round of scatter shot struck Dashiq in the right side of her head, where copper met flesh. The dragon had been lined up perfectly with the landing strip, but now she dropped sharply. Another flight deck appeared below the first. This one was fully occupied, and people ran in every direction. Some tried to save the aircraft moored there, while others leaped out of Dashiq's path. An instant before her face would have struck the stone, her head flew back and her wings flapped. She did crash into a mid-sized four-engine prop plane but did only minor damage. Afterward, no one knew what to do, looking at Dashiq as if she were a ghost.
Most kept their distance. The captain nodded to the man who was about as welcoming as a cold blade.
"So what's all this, then, DeGuiere?" the hard-edged soldier asked.
DeGuiere? Riette silently asked.
"We brought you something the Zjhon want badly," Tuck said, already sounding defensive. Riette didn't like the way this was going, but there was little she could do about anything at that moment. She and Emmet were just along for the ride and did their best to remain invisible.
"Do you need a child to speak for you now?" This brought laughter from a group of men watching from nearby and making no effort to conceal their appraisals.
Tuck opened his mouth. The captain, as Riette continued to think of him, silenced Tuck with a hand on the shoulder. Looking incensed, the young man pleaded with his eyes to be allowed his say. The captain pointed back to Dashiq. With obvious reluctance and a steady glare at the gathered men, Tuck made his way back to the dragon. This brought a roar of laughter that made Tuck blush furiously. Riette wanted to smack them on his behalf. Emmet, at least, was silent. Ever since arriving, the boy had been engrossed in their surroundings.
Everyone's attention turned back to the captain. "I can speak for myself," he said in a voice like tumbling granite. His words were not slurred; they were malformed, slow and drawn out, the right side of his face drooping. "What the boy said is true. The Zjhon wanted this." He held up the sky stone.
Laughter again filled the flight deck. Riette joined Tuck in staring the rude men down. Emmet examined the chamber walls, thinking only the gods knew what. The man talking with the captain turned around to face the rude men. Now some snickered.
"Scowl all you want, Gerrig. He ain't welcome here after what he did. I'd be within my rights to kill him here and now."
"You'll have to go through me," Gerrig replied, turning his back on the men, who made a show of being afraid. "What is this . . . rock?"
"It fell from the sky in a ball of light and struck the land a mighty blow," the captain said, his speech coming to him a little faster the more he spoke. "The Zjhon were there with a naval fleet and more than fifty aircraft . . . waiting for this. We got there first and stole it out from under them."
"Where did this happen?" Gerrig asked, suspicious.
"The shallows." This statement brought scoffing and accusations from the assembled group, which was now growing larger.
"Zjhon aircraft can't reach the shallows," Gerrig said.
"They can now," the captain said.
"That would mean the Midlands would also be within their range . . . and our flanks . . . our entire supply chain."
There was no more laughter.
"Come with me," Gerrig said.
"Yes, sir, Commander Gerrig, sir," the captain said, but then he glanced back at Dashiq.
Tuck had already begun attending to the dragon's wounds, which appeared to be minor but numerous. Riette had seen him give the dragon their entire saltbark leaf supply, and she hoped it would be enough to keep her alive. Being left to these people's mercy was not something she wanted to consider.
The captain waved for them to join him. Dragon grooms had shown up to assist in Dashiq's care, and Tuck had returned to staring down the soldiers, who continued to laugh at him.
Gerrig saw it as well. "Come on, then. Dashiq will be well cared for."
Visibly hesitant to leave the dragon behind, Tuck took a moment to talk with the much older grooms about Dashiq's care. These people nodded silently and listened, but the gathered soldiers now laughed at the dragon grooms.
"You will show some respect, Duggan," Gerrig said to the man leading the group.
"Send them back up to their own level, and they'll get plenty of respect. Down here, we respect loyalty and steel."
Massive workbenches holding partially assembled engines gave Riette an idea of what he was talking about. Taking Emmet's hand, she practically dragged him to where the captain waited. He said nothing.
"A doddering old fool riding a crippled dragon with a crew of simpletons!" Duggan said, barking a laugh.
Emmet heard the man and shrank against Riette in fear.
Tuck also heard. As they passed before the group, enduring their leering grins, Tuck turned and took three steps, which put him right in front of Duggan. The man was easily three times his size, yet Tuck stared at him as if he were the one looking down. "Ignorant fools should not speak of matters that do not concern them."
"Be careful, now," an ugly man said from behind Duggan. "You might hurt his feelings."
"I've wrestled dragons," Tuck said before Gerrig could reach him. "I ain't afraid of you." This brought the most raucous round of laughter yet. Men goaded Duggan for allowing a child to scold him. "You see that kid over there you frightened?"
Everyone listening looked at Emmet. Riette quailed under the scrutiny and squeezed her brother's hand more tightly. Emmet looked back with a complete lack of fear; in fact, he smiled.
Tuck wasted no more time. Using his strength and body weight to his advantage, he placed a well-executed kick on the side of Duggan's knee. There was a sharp crack followed by a shrill cry. The man swiped at Tuck as he fell, but the boy deftly stepped out of his reach. "That's for him," he said, pointing to Emmet.
"The gods sometimes mete out their judgment with swiftness," Gerrig said. "These people are in my custody. Any assault on them will be considered an affront to my family. Have I made myself clear?"
The gathered men mumbled and dispersed. Duggan got to his feet but walked with a pronounced limp.
"You are not to touch another person without my leave," Gerrig said to Tuck.
"Yes, sir."
"But I thank you for doing what you did," Gerrig said. "I appreciate the laugh. But I'm afraid there won't be much more of that."
Silence hung over the upper deck, which remained empty. Gerrig said nothing as they crossed the barren expanse, persistent wind rattling dragon harness all that broke the stillness. The captain walked with his cane, and Gerrig had to visibly slow himself to not outpace the group. He said no more until they reached a series of halls leading into a part of the Heights occupied by only humans.
"I wish you luck, my old friend," he said to the captain. "There won't be much I can do for you from here."
"You've already done enough."
Riette still had not gotten used to the sound of his voice. It was deeper and raspier than she had imagined. Since only half of his face cooperated with his speech, she guessed he had suffered a stroke. It would explain why he had spoken so freely when first meeting Tuck but had then stopped. Riette had known folks who never recovered from such ailments.
Gua
rds watched in silent curiosity, but no one stopped them until they reached a set of ornate doors with handles shaped like battle axes. Riette could not hear exactly what was said to the guards, but Gerrig appeared confident. One slipped inside, preventing them from seeing anything or hearing what took place within. When he returned, he whispered to Gerrig before both doors were pulled open.
"Commander Gerrig," a stern voice said from within.
On trembling knees, Riette entered the war room. Dominating the chamber was a table with a scale model of the known world built into it. Wooden seas bordered land masses and provided flat surfaces, few of which were free of papers, figurines, and what looked like toy ships and aircraft. Amazing detail was visible in the masterfully crafted representation of their world. Places Riette had never known existed were shown. She could barely take her eyes away from it. When she did, familiar fear returned.
The man standing on the far side of the table dominated the room with his presence and made the soldiers below look nonthreatening. Other people in military garb continued as if no one had entered the room, but the big man glared with eyes afire. "I allowed you to leave this place once," he said. "You're a fool to return. What do you want, Barabas DeGuiere?"
The disdain in his voice was clear, and even Riette recognized the absence of any military title; she also made note of his first name: Barabas. It was an uncommon name, save in the mythologies. To be named after such a great figure must be difficult; so much to live up to.
The captain showed no sign of taking offense. "I serve as I've always served, General Katch, sir."
To his credit, this man did not laugh at the captain's infirmities. "Do you mock me?"
"No, sir. I'm not the man I once was." It was clear the general had no love for Barabas, but his eyes softened a fraction. Riette could not imagine what it must have felt like to make such an admission. "I came because the news won't wait. The Zjhon have outflanked you."
Several people in the room scoffed at the notion, but General Katch stared and waited.
"They've sailed an armada equipped with their own air support and the ability to launch aircraft at sea." His words came a little faster the more he spoke, but it was embarrassing for him when he had to wipe away the moisture at one side of his mouth.
"You've seen this yourself?" the general asked.
No one else in the room spoke. Barabas now had their full attention. "Aye. In the shallows."
General Katch scribbled a note and, with a whispered command, handed it to a young woman standing nearby. She dashed away.
Tuck stepped forward, his eyes downcast. "May I speak, sir? It is difficult for him." The captain's head lowered a bit at these words, but he did not argue. General Katch gave the boy a curt nod. "The Zjhon converged on the shallows because they knew something was going to happen. They were waiting for that." He pointed to the sky stone. "We just happened to be close by when it struck, and we beat them to it."
"What are its properties?" asked an older man with wild, curly hair.
"We don't know," Tuck admitted. "But we know the Zjhon wanted it badly."
A low murmur ran through those assembled, and the man approached with a sense of reverence. Barabas did not hesitate to turn over the sky stone, something of which Riette questioned the wisdom. A little leverage could not have hurt their chances of leaving this place alive. She was beginning to doubt his sanity for bringing them there in the first place. He'd nearly gotten them killed to take them someplace they were demonstrably unwelcome.
General Katch let out a deep sigh. "If I find out your words are false, your lives are forfeit." Riette wanted to smack the general but did her best to remain silent and invisible. "If they are true, which I suspect they are, then you've done us a great service, even if it is already too late."
Barabas looked up, deep concern in his eyes. "How bad is it?"
"Every day, they get stronger and we get weaker. Every time the Drakon deploy, fewer return, and we are still playing catch-up with regards to aircraft development and construction," General Katch replied. "That can only go on for so long before we're overrun. Based on your words, that will be soon. If we send our air strength to the west, then the Heights will surely fall. If we lose the Midlands, then we lose our supply chain. Either way, we lose."
"Then don't do neither of those things," Tuck said, and all eyes turned on him. To his credit, he did not flinch under scrutiny. "Send everything you got in a single strike."
This proposal was met with an angry backlash from almost all those gathered since it would doom both the Heights and the Midlands. Tuck had expressed what they already knew but did not want to admit. The Zjhon had already won.
General Katch held up his hand, and the room fell silent. "Tell me, boy. Why?"
"If they've sailed two fleets, how much strength could they have held in reserve?" The general nodded and allowed Tuck to go on. "They're counting on catching you by surprise." The captain put his hand on Tuck's shoulder, a clear sign of his support. Tuck spoke with bolstered confidence. "If you launch your offensive so the eastern fleet can see, they'll surely pursue you, knowing their homeland defenses are weak."
"Assuming they truly are weak," General Katch interjected, but he still looked to Tuck to see what the boy would say.
"I guess you're just going to have to decide which way you want to die," Tuck said.
Riette held her breath, fearing her friend had gone too far. She had no time to wonder at the thought of actually having a friend.
With a barking laugh, General Katch turned to the captain. "You've taught the boy well."
"He's wrong," the captain said. Surprise and hurt showed on Tuck's visage, but the older man squeezed his shoulder. "Their defenses will be considerable. I agree with his suggestion nonetheless. Better to die taking the fight to Argus Kind than through attrition."
"I don't like you," General Katch said. "And I don't like what you did, but you are correct in this."
Barabas nodded but before he could say another word, shouting erupted in the halls. "No weapons in the war room," a guard shouted from outside just before the chamber door burst open.
The man who entered was among the least friendly looking people Riette had ever seen and she trembled. Beside her, Tuck must have sensed her distress, for he took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. The gesture brought feelings she did not understand, but she forced them down.
"What is he doing here?" the warrior's question was an accusation toward everyone gathered, and few met his eyes. Tuck was among those few, which incensed the man even further.
"Barabas has brought dire news, Al'Drakon," General Katch said, "and an object sought by the Zjhon, though it is of unknown utility."
"And you bring the traitor here, so he can see our plans and report our weaknesses back to the enemy?"
"No matter what you think of Barabas," General Katch said, "no one has offered proof he serves anyone but his own people."
"He used the last of our magic to save himself and a dragon who has lived beyond her years," Al'Drakon said. "That is proof enough. He took from us the only chance we had of defeating Argus Kind."
Barabas stood tall and did not flinch under the accusations.
"You know that's not true," General Katch said. "Had he allowed Dashiq to die, the Zjhon would have captured the magic anyway. Better to have the power used to save one of our own than to fall into the enemy's hands along with all the rest."
"One of our own," Al'Drakon spit. "You're a fool who cannot see when he's been betrayed."
"Al'Drakon is a position of great honor that affords you complete power over the Drakon, but it does not grant you the right to insubordination. You've come armed into a sacred space. This is forbidden. Do not make me judge you as harshly as you judge him. The purity and sanctity of this chamber have been maintained through ritual and honor for a thousand years, and today you mar that record. Do not force me to have you removed."
The tension in the room held most in
silent rigidity, but Tuck glared at the man in open contempt.
Al'Drakon cleared his battle axe from its mighty sheath. "Who would you have remove me? I risk my life and that of the Drakon every time I leave to defend this place, and you side with a traitor!"
"I side with no one but my own counsel," General Katch said, not backing down from the open aggression. His eyes showed no fear. "I've no more love for Barabas DeGuiere than you, but we do not always get to choose our allies. The news he brings is dire and his counsel sound. A wise man would at least hear his words."
Al'Drakon allowed his axe to rest once again in its sheath, still in violation of protocol. Crossing his arms over his chest, he silently dared anyone to challenge him.
"The Zjhon have built floating airfields and have outflanked us," General Katch said.
"And you've seen this yourself?" Al'Drakon asked with clear contempt.
"No," General Katch admitted. "This news is too recent to have been verified, but aircraft are being readied as we speak. In the meantime, we would be wise to consider the counsel afforded us and make our own decisions."
"What, then, does the traitor advise?" Al'Drakon asked, now glaring directly at Barabas, who did not meet the warrior's eyes.
"He and his companions have advised us to take the fight to Argus Kind."
"And leave the homeland undefended? Ha!" Al'Drakon barked a harsh laugh. "Why not just surrender?"
"What would you do?" Tuck asked. All eyes turned on him, and none were friendly. "Keep doing what you've been doing? Have you driven the Zjhon back? No! And yet you ignore folks wiser than you."
"Be quiet, boy," Barabas said, pulling Tuck back from the table. The young man looked ready to leap across the war models and fight Al'Drakon himself. His hand, still gripping Riette's, trembled with rage but did not pull away, as if he took strength from her.
"Ah, the traitor speaks!" Al'Drakon said, and the captain finally met his eyes. "It seems the last of our magic was not enough to preserve your pretty mouth. Pity. Are there any other precious resources we might squander to preserve your useless hide, Al'Drakon?"
"I relinquished my right to that title," Barabas said. "But I did not give up my right to serve my homeland and her people. Think of me what you wish, but accept the truth. We are already defeated. If we take the fight to the Firstland, at least we can inflict some pain on them before we are too weak to do anything more than die."
"By the sound of your speech," Al'Drakon said. "You'll be the first among us to die. Not soon enough for me."
No matter how much the warrior goaded him, Barabas remained calm and humble. This fueled the warrior's anger. When a dozen guards entered the room and surrounded Al'Drakon, the font of his rage would no longer be contained. He brought his axe to bear, making Riette fear he would slaughter them all. Instead, he hurled it at the ancient wooden doors. The mighty weapon cleaved the mural carved there, causing irreparable damage to the masterful artwork. "Take it," he said. "I do not need it. My bare hands are all I need to wring the necks of fools, or do you think to deprive me of those as well? Come. Take them if you dare. For all your foolish protocol and ritual, you cannot change the fact that we are all weapons—some far more effective than others."
Slowly and without turning their backs on him, the guards retreated. One man grabbed the axe handle and worked it free of the door. A moment later they left the room and closed the damaged doors behind themselves. Emmet fidgeted beside Riette and let go of her hand to pull at loose threads in the hem of his jacket.
"Stop that," Riette scolded, but her attention was soon drawn away.
"I won't claim to understand all the rituals and protocols, Al'Drakon," General Katch said. "The ancients left us more riddles than answers, but our fathers taught us the things they did for a reason. And their fathers before that. I'll not abandon their teachings because you find them inconvenient. If we must perish, then let us do so with our heads high and our honor intact."
More dragon riders slipped into the room, gathering behind their leader. At least none appeared to be armed, but the tension in the room grew. Even General Katch looked nervous.
"And why are there children in the war room?" Al'Drakon asked. "Does that not fly in the face of your teachings?"
"I brought them here," Commander Gerrig said. "Not all those in the Heights act with integrity these days, and I was left to fear for their safety. They arrived with Barabas DeGuiere and are under my protection."
Al'Drakon spit on the floor. "You choose the companions of a traitor over your own people."
"If you call him a traitor again," Tuck said through gritted teeth, "you'll have to deal with me."
This brought laughter from many in the room. Some laughed at Tuck, but others laughed at the much larger warrior. Both flushed deep red.
"I said be quiet, boy," Barabas growled.
"Speak to me in that manner again, and there'll be no one who can save you," Al'Drakon said.
"You might frighten some folks," Tuck said, his hand clenching tightly around Riette's, the captain's hand seemingly the only thing holding him back, "but I ain't one of those people. If you want my respect, stop acting like a spoiled child."
"Silence!" General Katch said. "One more word out of either of you, and you'll speak next from the dungeons. Have I made myself clear?"
Al'Drakon ignored the general and continued to glare at Tuck and Barabas. Tuck, though, turned to General Katch and inclined his head in a sign of acquiescence and respect.
"Barabas DeGuiere has brought us intelligence . . . which will be verified," the general said, stifling any more words from Al'Drakon. "And he's brought us an artifact that may yet be of use to us even if we do not yet fully understand it. He's kept this object from the Zjhon and turned it over to us. That is an honorable act. Once we've verified the intelligence, he and his companions will be free to go. Until then, he's to be confined to dignitary quarters along with his companions. They are to be treated as honored guests and will be guarded at all times so they do not have to worry about anyone bearing them ill will. If there's nothing else, you may all leave. Now."
No one moved. Barabas appeared to be fighting some inner battle. "There is one more thing," he said before the guards could lead them away.
General Katch held up his fist in silent command.
Tuck squeezed Riette's hand and looked to her with regret in his eyes. Never had she been so terrified and confused. All the times she'd questioned the captain's intentions came back in a rush. Never had he asked for payment or explained why he'd taken her and Emmet away from Sparrowport. Her guts twisted.
"The boy is special."
Cold fear was like a knife in Riette's gut. She pulled away from Tuck in anger.
"Don't," Tuck said but he never got the chance to say more.
"I brought him here because I believe he can sense magic."
Everyone began to talk at once. Anger, resentment, and incredulity filled the room. Riette turned to Tuck with hatred in her eyes, no matter his pained expression. He had betrayed her. They both had betrayed her. "You monster!" she screamed at Barabas. He accepted the accusation and remained silent. "How are you any better than the Zjhon? You wanted the same thing they did. At least they were honest about their intentions. You lied to me!"
"Once a traitor, always a traitor," Al'Drakon said.
In the commotion, Riette lost track of Emmet, and she searched for him frantically, despite knowing there was nothing she could do to save him now. Deep within the Heights, there was no chance of escape. Barabas DeGuiere had doomed them as surely as if he had taken them directly to Argus Kind. Still, she could not help but try to protect her brother. At that moment, the rest of those assembled realized the boy had disappeared. Riette hoped he did possess some magic that would allow him to escape even if she could not.
Then she saw him, though, crawling on all fours beneath the table, making his way to the back of the chamber, where a pair of sconces flanked what looked like a shrine
of some sort. Knowing others would follow her gaze, she pretended to search the rest of the chamber for him, all the while trying to analyze the shrine's every detail. Dark gray liquid filled glass containers on a slab of alabaster. Within black stone was a subtle inset, barely visible but distinct in its form. When Emmet emerged from under the table, he held in his hand something like a golden dagger, equally distinct in its form—the inverse of the cavity he moved toward.
Unable to fathom how her brother had come by such an item or what he intended to do next, Riette watched in silent horror. Then she remembered the footprints in the hallway. The room exploded with activity when others followed her now static stare and saw the boy approaching what appeared to be a sacred place. With quickness she hadn't known he possessed, Emmet reached up and placed the golden dagger into the orifice in which it fit so perfectly.
A dagger it was not; what Emmet held was a key.
Dragon Airways Page 21