* * *
Emmet shivered as Dashiq plummeted into the deepening darkness. There would be no surprise this time. The Zjhon would have been on their guard even if not for explosions off the coast. Barabas did not claim to know what was going on, but Emmet suspected Keldon had something to do with it. It wasn't much of a plan, but they had no better options than to barge in and try to steal Argus Kind's magic. If not for Emmet's ability, none of this would be possible. He felt both pride and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. There was fear as well. He understood the danger they faced and the reasons it was still worth the risk. An attack so early in the night might not be what the Zjhon were expecting, but they were on full alert when Dashiq brought them into view. Dozens of lights converged on them with blinding heat. Shouts rose up when the dragon crested the nearest peak.
The next moment changed everything. The response from every gunner was the same; every one had Dashiq in his sights, and they all fired almost in unison. Emmet closed his eyes as the first cannon exploded in a ball of fire and sparks. A moment later, he opened his eyes again, amazed by the rolling explosion. Normally the air cannons had a specific, recognizable sound. This was a fiery inferno turning long gun barrels into twisted heaps of metal. Aircraft launched from Windhold, not far away, which did not bode well. While he and Barabas might get in, getting out could be tricky.
The planes would have to fly at night, which was difficult enough. Still, the first pulse jet rounded the corner and thumped toward them and into the spotlights. The U-shaped jets had been retrofitted to carry their own lighting systems, blinding Emmet as they approached. The pilot got off three shots before the plane started emitting white smoke. In the span of a few breaths, the U-jet spiraled into the valley below. Other planes did not make it that far. Sudden movements while dodging crashing planes initiated other failures until aircraft rained from the sky.
"That crazy fool," Barabas said with a note of what might have been pride.
Smiling, Emmet pointed toward the brightest magic. Barabas guided Dashiq using his knees, and she landed on the ledge, allowing Barabas and Emmet to dismount within the entrance. The remains of two large guns flanked the halls. In spite of the Drakon's efforts, a diesel plane rumbled through the valley and opened fire on Dashiq. The dragon pressed deeper into the hall to escape the attack.
Emmet pointed to the back of the chamber and to the right. "Magic."
Laughter echoed through the cavern. It was a deep, angry laugh that twisted Emmet's guts. From the darkness emerged a man more frightening than any of Emmet's nightmares. He wore black armor and carried a six-foot-tall axe. It was the headsman's axe, the very one he'd used to kill the previous ruler and thus become king. He wore no helm, and the glint in his eye reeked of pure evil. This was a man who cared for none but himself. Except perhaps the Al'Zjhon. Barabas had warned of this elite fighting force, but Emmet already knew them; they had hunted him before.
"Mean," he said, pointing to the woman who walked alongside Argus Kind. Her form-fitting leathers appeared to allow a wide array of movement. If Argus Kind was a battle axe, this woman was a surgical blade. There were others: the man who could contort his body to fit into small spaces and the man who watched from the shadows. Every instinct told Emmet to run, but he extended his hand to Barabas, and the big man lowered his.
Again Argus Kind laughed. "I knew you would come back, Barabas. I should have killed you more thoroughly the first time. Now I know better." He hefted his axe, making his intentions undeniably clear. "And you brought the boy. I have to thank you for that. He'll be among my most prized possessions."
Hearing himself referred to as a possession made Emmet shiver. Riette would not like that. The thought of her made him want to cry, but he remained strong. Barabas needed him. Dashiq would not fit any farther into the hall, and she turned around to face the incoming airplane. Without ever firing another shot, the plane sputtered and spiraled out of control, Keldon's sabotage perhaps late but nonetheless successful. The man wasn't so bad as people made him out to be. Emmet saw the good in almost everyone, but that was why Argus Kind and the Al'Zjhon frightened him so much; he found no good left in them. Something had hurt them all so badly and for so long, they no longer wanted to do good or be good. Destruction was as gratifying for them as creativity was for most.
In Argus Kind's hand was the source of all the magic Emmet had sensed: a glassy orb of some sort, he could not tell exactly what type. "It must have been difficult, watching your dragon slowly die. You should have let it be quick and spared the poor beast. Look at what she has become. If only she'd had this." He turned the glassy sphere to reveal the most realistic-looking artificial dragon eye Emmet had seen. Every other one he'd seen was carried by Barabas, but they did not compare to this one. The detail, the life, and the magic within this eye were far beyond any other.
Emmet realized then just how much magic Argus Kind had needed to gather to throw him off the track of the most powerful magic. No wonder he had allowed so much to be stored in one place and left at risk. It had simply been bait meant to keep anyone from taking the real prize.
"Azzakkan's Eye," Argus Kind said. "I suspect you've thought about this a time or two while she fades away—the one object that might not only heal your dragon but might actually make her better. We all know the stories, of course, but I know more. Only I took the time to trace all the legends back and had the guts to retrieve physical evidence that proves the stories were real and true. If all you're going to do is sniff at the dirt, you don't deserve the power."
"There is power enough to share with the world and do what's right," Barabas said. This brought new laughter from Argus Kind and the Al'Zjhon. "There has never been need for war."
Though it looked as if he might say something more, that was when Dashiq struck. Like a snake, her tail shot out and smacked Argus Kind across the wrist, hard enough to send Azzakkan's Eye flying and Argus Kind reeling in pain. Emmet stretched time, knowing he could not do it for long. He made it only halfway to the still airborne sphere when time began to compress again. Panting hard, Emmet tripped. For a moment, time remained stretched, and he reached out his gloved hand, grasping for a chance at salvation. Just as his fingers closed over the glassy sphere, a sleek black boot stepped on his wrist. Emmet screamed.
Dragon Airways Page 36