“Answer me!” cried Musa. “You cannot spite the gods. I am only doing my duty. You can respect that can you not? You told me to remember and now you insult me and the gods by hiding!”
He was getting angry now. This was not like Musa at all, but who knew what the head wound from the Bouda had done to him. Could sorcery be involved? Aisha wasn’t sure, the Bouda had mentioned a sorcerous master to Ole but that didn’t matter now. She had no doubt Musa would kill her if he could.
He stepped closer to their hiding spot and Aisha made ready to cast the blade into his face if he stuck his nose into their hiding place.
“You knew coming here meant death. Why do you hide from it now?” taunted Musa.
Aisha watched as his ebony calves passed by the opening. If it were not for the hard rocky ground, he surely would have been able to see their tracks. Small miracles, she breathed.
Musa walked further afield hunting for them. He must have thought they had slipped farther away in the gouts of fuming gas.
Ole awoke, moaning loudly in pain.
Musa, who was almost fifty yards away, heard the Northman despite the rumble of the mountain. He trotted toward them with grim purpose.
“We have to move now!” Aisha urged. But Ole was incapable of going further. His head lolled back and he could only grunt.
Aisha decided in that instant the only way to save Ole’s life was to go out and slay Musa, no matter the odds against her. She had to leave Ole or the big Umoja would find them both in that enclave and pierce both their hearts.
Aisha dashed out of the entrance and rushed headlong into another belching geyser of gas. She breathed in her relief when Musa spotted her and gave chase without first hunting for Ole.
The long-legged Umoja raced after her, like a lion after a gazelle. He was swifter than she was, and he had the spear. She dodged aside, afraid he might cast it into her back. But the lean warrior kept hold of his weapon, apparently confident he could soon overtake her.
“Aisha stop! I will not make you suffer. Living in fear is too much. Come and accept your fate,” he called after her.
She raced behind a boulder and crawled into another small crevice. She hoped she had enough time ahead that she might be able to ambush him when he stuck his head in to look. But the warrior was wily and did not enter her trap.
The rumble of the mountain covered any other sounds and she could not tell where Musa was. She waited a long moment then inched her way back toward the exit.
She’d almost reached the mouth when Musa’s face blocked the light. His bright teeth and eyes glowed in the darkness.
“Found you,” he said, simply, before trying to jam his spear in at her.
Aisha knocked the point aside into the stone ceiling and tried to snap the spear point from the shaft, but the strong wood was resilient and flexed until Musa withdrew the weapon.
She scrambled farther back into the gloom and crawled to escape via another exit, but this one proved too small and it was just as well. As soon as she tried to push a stone out of the way, Musa’s spearhead lanced where her hand had been a moment before.
She cursed him but had no recourse but to find another exit.
A third ray of light denoted another possible channel, but this too proved too small. She went back to the one and only sure place and waited.
The mountain rumbled again and shook as the earth pitched to and fro. She wondered if she might be baked alive in the heat. She realized she hadn’t had a drink of water since they had entered the caldera and now her mouth seemed dry as the desert floor below.
The sound of a scuffle caught her ears and she cautiously moved forward to see what the Umoja was doing.
Ole, half blind and leaning like a sinking ship, faced the Umoja warrior. He held a sword in each hand. Aisha’s own blade and his newly found dragon slayer! He was slow but he was fending off Musa’s attack.
She could only imagine that the Northman must have grabbed both blades and hobbled after her silently enough to nearly get the drop on Musa, otherwise the Umoja would have surely thrown his spear and slain him as he had Catlo.
She quickly crawled from the earth and rushed toward them, hoping to take up her own blade against Musa.
“Ole! I’m here! Give me a blade!” she cried.
But as Ole with slower than usual reflexes glanced at her, Musa shot his spear forward and caught the Northman in the stomach.
Aisha screamed.
Ole dropped her sword with his left hand and gripped the spear shaft. He held it as indomitable as winter’s grasp on the north.
Musa tried to pull the weapon back, but it was trapped.
Ole slammed his own blade into Musa’s gut. The Umoja fell back on his haunches, blood spurting from the terrible wound.
Aisha raced forward and grabbed her sword.
Ole had the wherewithal to keep the spear in, so he did not continue to bleed out, as Musa was now doing. But it was obvious he was on the verge of collapse.
“I need to rest,” he breathed heavily. “I need to sleep.”
“No.” Aisha shook her head. “You have to fight it.”
Ole hobbled toward a massive black stone, and leaned against it.
Aisha’s senses electrified. She froze. She glanced back at Musa who, while still alive and conscious, merely sat on his backside, holding a hand over his bleeding gut.
The big black stone moved, and Aisha realized it wasn’t a stone at all—but the dragon itself.
29. Jokameno Awakes
The dragon’s eye opened and the great yellow orb flitted back and forth as the monster’s massive head swung upward. It throttled its head back and forth, the opposite eye was but a pale ball of white, not unlike a spider’s egg, resting in a blackened corner.
A great tongue forked like a snake’s, whipped out from the mouth, and tested the air. It caught their scent and like a hurricane whipped itself upward with an added thrust of its wings. Sulfurous fumes from the nearby hot pots blasted into Aisha’s face.
Musa cradled the wound in his stomach and crab walked backward away from the dragon. It caught sight of him and lunged down with an open mouth and devoured the screaming man whole. Bones cracked.
Aisha caught the horror in his eyes just before he disappeared into the tooth-filled mouth. His right arm fell from the dragon’s jaws to the ground. But the dragon’s keen senses knew that faint morsel was lost and it moved its snout down and prodded against the ground until its tongue, long and large as a python, slurped up the warm flesh.
Urging Ole up, Aisha had the two of them squeeze into one of the many lava tube crevices. It was difficult with the spear still jutting from his stomach.
The dragon craned its neck about, surely sensing Aisha and Ole. The copper scent of blood was thick even in this scorched hell hole.
Aisha wedged Ole behind herself and held her blade at the ready. The dragon’s massive nose snorted at her hiding place. Blasts of hot air washed over her face. Almost immediately, the dragon inhaled and made a sound akin to a cat’s single purr.
Aisha felt safe for a bare moment as the giant monster stepped a few paces away. She let out the softest breath of relief. A giant clawed hand suddenly stole the boulder away revealing Aisha lying atop Ole’s incapacitated body.
Its enormous jaw moved right up to her. There was nowhere to go, nothing that could be done. Could Ole’s sword even hurt such a beast? This was the end.
She screamed her last challenge, ready to be swallowed alive. She smacked the dragon on the nose with her sword, which bounced off, as if it was no more than a child’s toy. She should have used Ole’s sword.
The dragon sniffed at her once again. Moved its massive jaw to the side of Aisha and nuzzled at her. It did the great purring sound once again then, seeming satisfied, moved away and lay down.
“What the hell?” Aisha muttered to herself. She remembered Neema’s words, that she had the blood of the dragon in her. Perhaps now her scent was masked? She didn’t know, but i
t wasn’t comforting knowing that the thing that had eaten her father might now be thinking she was its hatchling.
“It can’t see you with that bad eye, but it must like your scent,” said Ole, with a feeble grimace.
“What happens when it sees me with its good eye?” she asked.
“We’re dead.”
“Then I better take your sword and end this,” she said, gritting her teeth. She tried to take the sword from Ole’s grip, but he held on despite his wounds.
“No, lets try and just get out. Let’s sneak back to the door.”
She shook her head. “When I move it will sense you, it will see us, and we’ll be as dead as Musa and the others.”
Ole looked at his bloody stomach. Deep red stained his dirty grey polar bear skins. “Then just you go, while I distract it. It’s the least I can do.”
“Like hell.”
“Let me do this. I owe you, for getting you into this mess.”
“You owe me more than that,” she chided. “I want to spend my life with you, not growing old lamenting your death. We do this together or not at all.”
“All right. But if we don’t get this wound wrapped up, I won’t be going anywhere,” he said, holding up a bloody hand.
She clasped his hand and took the sword. She strode out of the hollow and faced the dragon. Its pale dead eye faced her. The giant monster sensed her movements and let out another purring sound like thunder rumbling through the mountains.
“I am sowing dragon teeth. I will awaken the mountain, or I will end you,” she whispered.
The dragon craned its head, the dead eye fixed on Aisha even though it saw nothing. Its tongue flicked out and it caught Ole’s scent separate from Aisha. It turned to face the human. The mouth opened wide in a yawn. Turning further still to see, the good eye lit on the prone man. It launched its head toward him and Aisha struck with the black blade.
The sharp point bit through the dragon scales and slid deep, hot dark blood, almost ebony in color splashed over Aisha’s hands and she almost lost her grip in the great sanguine wash. She wrenched the blade back out and the dragon roared in pain. It swung its head to examine what had done this and its good eye transfixed her in an instant. Teeth snapped at her and Aisha struck again, this time the blade cleaved a notch in the lip her other sword had so weakly rebounded from.
“Ole run!” she cried.
The big strong man could barely get up, let alone run. He pulled himself up through the sheer strength of his arms and struggled to remain on his feet.
A blast of fire shot from the dragon’s maw and Aisha narrowly had time to dodge away beside a volcanic stone. She ran around, using the dragon’s blind side to her advantage. She slashed the blade again and again against its ribs before rolling beneath its massive belly. Aisha felt a red satisfaction with each and every thick smacking of steel on flesh. She screamed in triumph. She was avenging her father!
The tail launched out in an attempt to deflect this hurtful assault, but Aisha’s blade and anger knew no bounds. She danced over the top of the studded tail and cut at her foe.
Ole released his grip on the boulder and struggled to walk.
The dragon saw the man and sent a bolt of flame his way, but Aisha’s attack made the monster miss the mark. Aisha struck again, slamming the blade home, yet deafened by the monster’s cry as it twisted over on its side.
Ole trudged toward the cavern but fell forward to his knees as the very mountain shook and rumbled a deep thunderous boom. Boiling jets of flame and putrid gas burst in geysers all about the caldera. He struggled to crawl, avoiding the treacherous bursts that now blocked his view of the exit.
The dragon rolled over and took to its wings. Aisha clung to the studded tail and crawled across the spiky fins, chopping and stabbing. Each slice and stab, tearing away black scales and sending gouts of blood flying through the air. The dragon screamed and turned skyward, flapping its bat-like wings in terrific bursts, taking them high above the smoking caldera.
She climbed along the scales which afforded even footfalls as she made her way toward its head. “I have you!” she roared.
***
Ole glanced up. The dragon and Aisha were a hundred feet above the caldera and climbing. The dragon roared pain. At least it could be hurt with the blade, but could Aisha hang on? Would she fall to her death? Would her determination to slay the beast send them all to their doom? Then they vanished from sight over the rim of the mountain.
He felt doomed and blind, bleeding all over the ground. The mountain shook again, and orange cinders burst from the ground and filled the grey air like molten stars in a charred sea.
“Votan, if you can hear me, I ask that you let my woman live. And let me live and escape this place. Please.”
The mountain rumbled, and hot cracks opened in the ground, blasting forth noxious winds and blinding smoke.
“Should have known better than to ask,” grumbled Ole.
The grey ash and sulfurous yellow smoke obscured all his senses. He crawled a pace forward blind as a mole.
“But if you did heed me, Votan, I swear I would make a pilgrimage to your great northern temple and there grant many sacrifices in your name.”
A horse neighed in the gloom not far away.
Ole came on and found the reins of the last horse. He laughed a moment as he struggled to stand beside the horse, saying, “Thanks anyway, Votan, looks like I’ll find my own way.”
The horse nickered nervously. The beast had also been blind and stood like a stick in the mud at the indecision of where to go. Ole heaved himself upon its back and by instinct alone, guided it back toward the secret door.
“I’m kidding, I keep my word.”
Just as he reached the doorway, a great crack ripped open across the caldera and lava shot forth, heaving red globules into the air. Thunder cracked and lightning shot from the black cloud above to molten earth below. Something screeched and small dragons took wing above the fire and smoke. The hatchlings had come forth.
***
Aisha gaped at the view from this height and trembled at her terrible predicament. But she steeled herself and grit her teeth, determined to avenge her father on the monster.
“You stole my father and he stole your eye! I’ll take the other if it’s the last thing I do!”
The dragon arched its head back and spewed flame back upon its wings.
The heat shriveled the pale hair on her arms and caused the scorched hair upon her head to crinkle. Nothing else mattered now, nothing but slaying the dragon.
She slammed the blade into the monster directly between its wings. The dragon roared and flew over the lip of the volcano.
They flew thousands of feet above the plain. Clouds spanned out below them.
The dragon descended toward the ground at an incredible pace. Aisha flew up from the dragon’s spine, but caught hold of a scale and the sword’s handle just in time. She clung to the monster’s back and twisted the blade in its flesh. The sword slid loose from the behemoth’s spine and she spiraled through empty air.
For a moment that seemed an eternity, she was sure that was the end. But in their chaotic descent, the dragon fell too and remained near. She hammered at it with the sword, biting away chunks of the wings and sending scales spinning out into the ether. With a hard thump, she landed upon its ridged back again.
The dragon roared and leveled its dive. Aisha stuck the blade in again, twisted and withdrew it before she crawled up past the wings and shoulders.
The dragon twisted again and dove straight down. This time Aisha caught herself on the monster’s neck and jammed the sword into its spine. The dragon lurched through the air and twisted serpentine, spinning its center of gravity from front to back. Aisha flew through the air and yet landed atop the monster a few feet closer to the head. It knew she was there like a tick on a hound. It swung its head upright and Aisha caught hold of the horn on its right side. It jerked and almost sent her spinning away into the sparse clouds.
She had lost her grip on the sword, still wedged into the spine more than six feet away.
The dragon’s big yellow eye stared into hers. The ground loomed closer. Aisha imagined once they reached the ground the monster would slam its face against the earth and crush her to death despite its many glorious wounds.
Aisha howled her rage. She slammed her fist into the great yellow eye of the dragon. The orb exploded. The dragon screamed. Blood and ichor showered Aisha.
The ground came up fast.
Darkness covered her in a terrific tidal wave.
30. Iron Discipline
Aisha was drowning in the midnight sea. She swam through inky blackness struggling for purchase on anything within the unfathomable waves. Light blinked somewhere far above. Straining for that last beacon, she kicked with all her strength as the final breath was robbed from her lungs.
Breaking the surface, the light was a false hope. The dragon’s great head breathed a flicker of flame. Orange soulless eyes blinked once at Aisha swimming helpless in the dark cold water. A smile curled upon the reptilian lips as massive teeth gleamed in the frosty night. The dragon inhaled deeply. It was like the sound of a bellows of gargantuan size filling, before blasting a hurricane of balefire at her.
The black water was gone. The blazing sun was above. Hard ground below. Her hands grasped the familiar hilt of her sword.
Her iron discipline would not allow her to give up, not now, not ever. Aisha roared. She jumped to her feet swinging her sword in all directions until it made graphic contact with an immovable object and slipped from her grasp with a terrible clang. She fell to her knees and wondered if the end had come. Hot blood splashed her. Dizzy, she saw forms moving against the blurry horizon. Wiping away the blood, sweat, and tears, her hand once again found her sword. If she was going to die, at least the dragon would taste her sting once more. She could barely stand. Stumbling backward, she felt the cool scaly skin of the dragon beside her. She wheeled and struck back at its armored hide. There was no movement, no reaction. She wiped at her eyes again. The monster was not moving. It was dead.
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