Dragon's Revenge

by Debi Ennis Binder

  Wolfe barely had time to contemplate how he would communicate their next move to the others when he felt another force, not words, but emotion coming at him—the leading edge of a golden arrow, rushing through the icy wind toward him and Fauler. Larek?

  As Larek appeared, racing up from the front of the cave, he flew past Hagan and caught his attention. Hagan banked to the right as though to intercept him. Larek dropped lower, raced toward the back of the mountain, and plunged down toward the chasm that was serving as an exit from the back of the mountain. Wolfe was sure that in Hagan’s eyes, the gold dragon had just disappeared from sight. Riding low on Larek’s back, Payk did not seem to even notice Wolfe and Fauler. Wolfe had but a glimpse of Payk’s grim face; it was enough to see a man determined to have his revenge.

  Wolfe swore softly under his breath. Didn’t either male—human or dragon—realize that they were leading Hagan straight to the other males? That those prepared to battle Hagan would instead be backed up in a small chasm with no room to fight?

  Fauler gave a warning grunt—apparently, the breach of orders wasn’t over yet.

  Following Larek flew Aulera, flying as low to the mountain as she dared but fast enough to shadow Larek. The female dragon was keeping herself below Hagan’s line of vision and it looked as though Larek was helping keep Hagan’s attention off Aulera, but Wolfe wondered if Larek even knew his mate was right behind him. And to top it all, Fyrid, riding behind Fleura, looked both exhilarated and determined to keep up with his uncle.

  By the gods, Wolfe wondered, where are they going?

  * * *

  “Aulera!” Fauler shouted as loudly as he dared.

  Aulera slowed herself at once and reluctantly turned toward Fauler as Larek flew on.

  Fauler could read her indecision in her expressive, pale-purple face. Gaulte had chosen to absent himself from chasing after Hagan, knowing that as soon as Hagan saw him, the females would be in dire danger. Thus, Fauler was now in command, and if Aulera disobeyed him, she disregarded Gaulte’s authority. The dragon heaved a great sigh and dropped beside Fauler.

  “We cannot let Hagan know Mayra freed the females,” Fauler said. “Stay down here, out of sight, until the other females fly out from the cave.”

  Fauler watched Larek fly back toward Hagan. From the corner of his eye, the green dragon saw Fleura pat Aulera’s neck and shoot a poisonous glance at Fauler. The witchling leaned down to the female dragon’s ear and Fauler heard her whisper, “We will fly like the wind and defeat that dragon durgen, Hagan!”

  Aulera was obviously delighted. Fauler snickered. The female dragon probably didn’t know what a durgen was, but she had an idea. Aulera was bonding with a fierce witchling who, like Aulera, had already proven that she wasn’t fond of rules. He predicted that they would make a ferocious team, especially with Fyrid going along for the ride with the two females.

  * * *

  Mayra and Hesta stood within the thick shadows that Mayra had cast around the lip of the cave mouth. Mayra stared at Hagan in horrified wonder.

  Dragons were beautiful creatures, sleek and shining, with faces that some would find nightmarish, but she saw as striking. The beasts were remarkably intelligent. If anything, Hagan looked the exact opposite—ugly, brutish, and savage.

  Mayra wasn’t aware that she had tightened her hands around two of Hesta’s short horns until the dragon gently shook her head and chuckled.

  “Very sensitive there,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry.” Mayra released Hesta and moved her hands back to the reins that helped hold her close behind Hesta’s head.

  “By the gods, he’s hideous,” Mayra whispered.

  “The sum of a dragon’s deeds is often reflected in his appearance,” Hesta murmured. “His evil runs deep. Ah, be silent, he draws close—”

  The red dragon stopped short as Hagan’s wings straightened and angled him toward the cave mouth where Mayra and Hesta hid, watching him. Hesta took a step back. “He is far closer than I care for,” she whispered.

  Mayra felt something eerie and evil, hovering around the dragon and she recoiled. She rubbed her hands down her arms. He was making her skin crawl—then she realized, the feeling was familiar!

  “I know that magic,” she whispered to Hesta. That which seemed to physically thrum around Hagan was inexplicably parallel to what she had felt around Tolle Bren and Ogden, the Nesht Fortress witch who had turned himself into an owl. “It’s deep magic—not only dragon magic. Old magic.” Her eyes widened. “Ogden’s magic!”

  She turned to face the others and said, “His magic is like Ogden’s!” She spoke as quietly as she could to the few witches behind her. “He will not be as fast as any of us are with our Rings, but if he can touch you with his magic, he will easily kill! Indiera”—the young witch-warrior perked up—“as you and Pinea can move easiest, turn and make your way up the back. Tell Wolfe what I said. Warn the others that this magic is different!”

  * * *

  Fauler felt his mate Pinea approaching, just as Wolfe prepared to move the witches and dragons into place to attack Hagan. But when Wolfe urged him forward, Fauler drew back right. Wolfe bent and looked down at the dragon in surprise, just as a pale-green female dragon shot out from the cave below.

  An exhilarating and perilous ride through the cave with Pinea had flushed Indiera’s pale skin with excitement. She grinned at Wolfe. Pinea lowered herself alongside her mate. Wolfe gave the witch-warrior a questioning look.

  “Mayra sends a warning she said you would understand,” Indiera replied to the unspoken question. “She felt Old Magic on Hagan, like Ogden’s and Tolle’s.”

  Wolfe looked thoughtful a moment. “I’m not surprised she recognized it, as she had closer contact.”

  “What is this magic?” Fauler asked.

  “Slow, strong, killing magic,” Wolfe muttered. “It’s the magic Ogden, the Fortress Witch taught Tolle. I saw him using it.”

  Fauler seemed to digest this for a moment, and his next words surprised Wolfe. “Pinea, you must stay with Aulera. Otherwise Hagan will know the females are free.”

  “You might ride back through the cavern and join the others,” Wolfe suggested to the two female dragons. He then turned to the others and added, “Let’s go then. We need to keep Hagan’s attention up and away from the cave entrance.”

  As the male dragons and riders spilled out into the sky behind the mountain, per Fauler’s command they hovered low, hidden close to the mountaintops. The sun was too bright for Wolfe to extend his shadow magic enough to protect the riders. He only hoped Hagan kept his attention focused on the front of the mountain for a few minutes longer.

  Just as they had taken up the formation, Hagan slowly came into view, beyond the rocky spires and slightly above them. Larek was continuing to distract Hagan, lunging at him, then racing around to catch his attention. Otherwise, Hagan surely would have caught sight of the dragons behind and below him, hidden near the back of the mountain and waiting to strike.

  Perhaps Wolfe would reconsider reporting Larek’s antics to Gaulte, for they were proving far more beneficial than the attacking dragons simply depending upon luck to keep Hagan from noticing any of them.

  Instead of meeting Larek’s challenges, Hagan dropped lower and turned back toward the cavern mouth. Wolfe pondered the rogue dragon’s actions. Did he seek Cherra or Feshr, perhaps with news of the females, who remained hidden? Or, after being confronted by Larek—a large male dragon with a rider—was Hagan concerned that others were waiting to trap him?

  Wolfe’s breath caught. Hagan had slowed as he came into view and hovered across the narrow chasm outside his cavern, and this was the first time Wolfe could really see the beast. His appearance sent a shock through the dark Ring-Witch that was as cold and bone-chilling as his surroundings.

  What had Harald called him? A monster?

  That was Hagan—a monstrosity. The red-and-blue-shaded dragon hovered on enormous, blue-cast wings, straight across from
them, staring at Larek and Payk without a sound. This was a dragon whose presence was so much more savage than any dragon of the Ceshon Aerie. Huge, jagged spikes ran down Hagan’s back, from his neck to the tip of his tail. There were both straight and curved, wickedly-sharp barbs of all sizes on his pronounced nose ridge, down both smaller front and massive back legs; even his feet bore small spikes. He looked far less agile than the Ceshon dragons. But from his long, narrowing, dagger-lined muzzle in a head topped with huge, swept-back, ridges of sharp horns, to his large feet with long, gnarled talons, he was a dragon made for fighting and killing, even though he wasn’t as large as Gaulte, or even Larek. The dragon didn’t need size, not with those horrific trappings!

  There was an aura about the dragon that would have caught Wolfe unawares—unexpectedly strong magic—had Mayra not warned him. If she hadn’t warned him, would he have been able to put a name to it? He wiped his hand down his face. “I should have known it. I am tired. I need to be more careful.”

  “That is why we are together to fight this beast,” Kirik said softly. “We look out for one another.”

  Wolfe gave the pale witch-warrior a long look, nodded once, and bent down to ask Fauler if he could still see Larek, just as Talft and Kirik rose alongside him, and on the other side, came Corren and Harald.

  “Bring him around so he faces us,” Wolfe directed the other dragons and witch-warriors.

  He knew Mayra would follow her plan, despite Larek and Payk somewhat overplaying it. Once Hagan was occupied with the male dragons and witches, her own warriors would exit below and behind Hagan.

  All Larek had to do was get the fearsome dragon in place. The five dragons took to the air, shooting into the sky. The male dragons were almost close enough to fly up into Hagan’s sight when Hagan turned as though to head further toward the cave.

  Hagan caught sight of them. The dragon floundered in midair at the sight of the attacking dragons, then roared and spit.

  “Dive at him! Turn him away from the cave mouth!” Wolfe shouted, and Fauler followed through, whipping his body around and diving at Hagan, and pulling away before they reached those long, snapping jaws.

  Within moments, diving tauntingly at Hagan, the males had him turned away from the cave mouth. Wolfe chuckled; the Ring-Witch knew the dragon beneath him was enjoying seeing the frustration mount in Hagan as they teased and provoked him while the female witches and dragons exited the cave below him.

  He was, Wolfe thought, a remarkably stupid dragon, that seemed to be solely a creature of bad temper and rage, with very little brains to spare. Why, by the gods, didn’t he use the magic that hung over him like a reeking bog?

  Within moments, Wolfe would have that question answered.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Aloft in the Ceshon Mountains

  Outside the Cavern of Hagan

  Day eleven of the First Moon of Wynter

  Mayra and Hesta watched from the cave rim as Fauler and Wolfe led the others in pulling Hagan away from the cave mouth; they waited until the rogue was just out of site.

  “Let’s go!” Mayra commanded to the others, and the female dragons and their riders shot out into the bright midday sun. Euphoric strength filled her as the full sun hit the disks that powered her Rings, the magical metal soaked up the energy, and it shot through her.

  Flying closely together, they got closer to Hagan than they expected before he noticed them. He spun about and his rage burst out over them. Mayra chuckled. She imagined Hagan felt sorely deceived, for she would bet either Cherra or Feshr had communicated with Hagan, telling him the humans failed in their attempt to find the female dragons. Yet here they were—a united front against the hideous dragon.

  The rogue dragon roared furiously, his huge talons repeatedly opening and closing as he grasped at air and growled. He roared and snapped at the air, seemingly unable to comprehend finding not only freed females, but a united front of male and female dragons.

  Mayra felt her entire body tense as Hagan’s jaws flew open. A deafening roar, charged with spittle and reeking of the fetid odor of rotting meat, flew toward them, over them, and Mayra swallowed bile. She heard a female on the dragon nearest her gag, then another, but she kept her face calm. Hagan could attack them, but he couldn’t kill them all at once.

  She finished the thought aloud, muttering, “And the vile dragon can’t chase us off with his stench.”

  Hesta huffed out a brief laugh.

  As Mayra and Hesta drew back, Mayra turned back to face Hagan. Across the short distance, she recognized the malice in the dark-yellow eyes that swept over them. He had to have guessed why she and Hesta were holding back.

  Mayra’s eyes suddenly widened. Hagan had not entered the cave, or flown away once he spied Larek. He was defying the dragons attacking to stay in this area. There could be but one reason why—Hagan had hidden the basket somewhere close by, outside the cave.

  And now, he was not going to allow Mayra and Hesta to search for Tamsin. Attack! she cried out to the others.

  Four female dragons rushed at Hagan as a like number of males flew up to join their mates. Fauler sailed around and drew close to Hesta and Mayra, with Pinea bringing up his other side.

  Wolfe gave Mayra a quick grin as Fauler moved closer to Hesta. “That basket must be around here somewhere,” he called. “Otherwise that damned dragon would have gone into the cave already.”

  “Your minds are remarkably similar,” murmured Hesta as she stiffened her wings to let the wind stop her in midair. “We will look around here, then.”

  Fauler and Hesta flew alongside each other, back toward the rocky crag directly across from the cavern.

  A deeper, angry roar from Hagan startled Mayra; she looked above her and felt her heart quicken. Somehow, the rogue dragon had gotten around the other dragons. With front talons spread wide and mouth impossibly agape, he was screaming his way across the sky with Mayra and Hesta in his sights.

  Mayra’s arms shot into the air, and she surrounded Hagan with her magic, pulling on the elements of the air and the surrounding dampness, wishing she could reach the soil, the most substantial component of her magic.

  “I’m trying”—Mayra grunted with the effort—“to pull him out of—”

  Hagan struggled against Mayra’s magic, roaring and howling in a blind rage.

  “He might escape,” Mayra muttered. She steadied herself for the task of casting and holding the magic she would need to battle Hagan. Before she could do more than roll her shoulders and take a deep breath, she felt everything around her lighten, as though she were being supported.

  Her eyes flew open. Directly across from her—a huge grin split Mayra’s face. Aulera, between Hesta and the cave mouth, was holding herself steady, and Fleura and Fyrid were augmenting Mayra’s magic! Mayra stared a moment. The faint, pure aura surrounding the humans and the dragon was the same pale-blue and purple as the dragon. Aulera was strengthening her riders’ magic.

  Others were rushing toward Mayra and Hesta, bringing their magic to the fight to hold and weaken the struggling dragon. Mayra felt her own magic deepening at the touch of the others, filling her with their exuberant cohesion. She urged Hesta forward, telling her to take the dragon to be questioned, so certain he was ready to surrender, until—

  Diaya, carrying Jannia, flew up from beneath Hagan. In one powerful movement, Hagan sent his huge, spiked tail lashing around.

  Several spikes struck Diaya in the throat; she screamed out, folded in on herself, and Jannia went flying off her back; Hagan’s spike smashed against the witch-warrior’s head. Corren shot forward and Harald reached out to guide the unconscious woman onto Corren’s back. Harald grabbed at Jannia’s slack hands, but she slipped away, following Diaya until they struck a flat table of rock below them.

  Jannia and Diaya lay still and unmoving. And in that instant, Hagan burst free of the streams of magic that had slowed and nearly stopped him midair.

  Diaya! Talft screamed, flapping furiously
as he dove toward his mate. The dragon’s normally placid face twisted savagely. His customary benevolence gave way to spears of violent, incoherent, out-of-control mind-speak, sending stark pain into the minds of the others.

  Mayra fought for control of her brain, struggled to quash the pain of Talft’s rage in her head. Even Hesta and the other dragons seemed affected. Her fellow humans were bent over, hands over ears, as though that would help.

  And Hagan laughed harshly as he pulled up, flexing the talons on both front hands, his face a mask of evil delight.

  “Yes,” he growled to Talft, “let them feel your rage, you soft-bellied lizard. Give them your agony and save me the effort!”

  Richart, bent low to Talft’s head, was speaking rapidly to him, trying to make him realize that he was crippling the humans.

  As Hagan gloated over his attack, Larek and Payk were flying behind him but Hagan saw them and turned himself around to face them.

  “Mayra,” Hesta whispered. “Hagan is focused on Larek and Payk. We must—”

  Hagan’s sudden action stopped Hesta short. The rogue dragon raised a smaller front foot, and a thick stream of gray magic caught Larek mid-chest, stopping the gold dragon as though something physically struck him. Mayra’s jaw dropped. Larek roared in pain, but before he could react, Fauler and Wolfe were beside him, Fauler moving up under one side of his Aerie-brother and Corren on the other. Mayra saw Wolfe say something to Payk and the Phailite quickly scrambled across the small space to settle himself behind Harald, on Corren, who then dropped away and flew closer to his mate.

  Hagan whipped around as Hesta shot upward toward him. As she passed him, she grabbed at him with her front feet, catching his wing and tearing the leathery skin. Hagan’s responding roar was long and pain-filled. He yanked the injured wing close to his body and flapped his good wing furiously, not seeming to realize he was falling. He didn’t have time to adjust his path; his weight sent him falling past the red dragon. As he dropped, he grazed Hesta with his talons.