by C. K. Rieke
Chapter Thirty-Four
A heavy red glow filled the eastern sky, the clouds were like long strands of torn cotton, soaked in blood. To the north though were thick clouds dark in nature, making their way south with cool winds that would help to bring with them the low temperatures of a cold Wendren night. Barra was scant of life and its many tumbleweeds rolled across the long, dry plains. The high tops of grand dunes loomed in the distance, yet the Xertans were still weeks away from being in view.
Lilaci thought that meant that Kera was far off from seeing the icy summits of the Xertans as well, as she wouldn’t have had enough time to make it there, even with Veranor’s aid. Looking down at her hands, she felt an aching pain within the bones in her hands, she’d noticed that with the cool temperatures of the nights on the desert this had become a pattern. She inspected the lines on the backs of them, which appeared to be growing in number with each passing day. Damn pixies, I’ll kill them all if I get a whiff of where they are. Or I’ve got to find the other remaining curse-breakers. But the last one will be all the way at the sea. Time to deal with all that afterward I suppose. For the time being, I’ve only got one mission: Kera. I miss her so. Every step I take is another moment that she’s away, alone out in the desert. Well, not alone, but with . . . him. He may be the strongest of all of us, if it wasn’t for the gods giving me my magic, but I’d rather any other one of us be out there to watch over her, I still don’t trust him. Regardless of what he’s done to me in the past, I know how power hungry he is, he’ll always put himself first over another. I like to think that any one of us would give our lives for her, I know I would, but for Veranor . . .
“Storms coming,” Burr said, walking at the rear of their ranks, his white hair was beginning to whip out from his dark hood. “Rainclouds rolling in.”
Lilaci looked up north to the clouds that blew their way as they took the red hue from the setting sun. Then a spark like an explosion of white light burst from deep within the clouds.
“Lightning?” Gogenanth asked.
“Looks like it,” Roren said. “Although this isn’t the storm season this deep inland, and this far into the seasons.” Then another burst of light erupted in the dark clouds, this one deeper in hue, like a sunlit yellow, but with trails of burning orange. They all stood there silent, watching the clouds roll toward them.
“Listen,” Lilaci said. “No thunder . . .”
“Is it the gods again?” Fewn asked, her hand snapping to the hilt of the sword at her hip, her cloak’s tails were flying behind her then, whipping aggressively.
“Makes sense,” Roren said, “if they know we made it across.”
Then another burst of light burned from deep within the clouds. As Lilaci listened for the cracking sound of thunder and lightning to the north, none came—what did come though sent a worry through her that made her genuinely scared for a moment. It was a sound she knew hadn’t rung out in these lands for a long, long time.
“It’s Herradax!” Fewn said. “She must be coming to our side.”
“That was no small dragon,” Lilaci said. “That was an adult.”
“Even with Kera’s dragon’s growth, there's no way she would sound like that,” Burr said, unsheathing his sword with a metallic ring. Each of them pulled their swords quickly, flashing in the red light of the approaching dusk.
Fire shot out of one of the clouds, followed by a grumbling roar that rang out in the desert like the sky being ripped in two. Surely an ancient call like that made every living soul in the desert crawl deep into some hole for safety?
“Gogenanth,” Ezmerelda said. “Hide us.”
He heaved the tip of his great scimitar into the hard desert floor and went to chanting quickly. Whirling his hands in large arcs around his shoulders and chest, the blue wisps of the magic of his Azulūz flowed all around them in a mighty, majestic orb concealing them from the rest of the world.
Gogenanth continued chanting as the blue veil dropped over them, wrapping them in the safety of his ancient magic, yet Lilaci watched as the clouds continued to advance toward them. Another roar was unleashed out into the desert winds, this one screeching so loudly Lilaci felt the reflex to cover her ears.
“You know what this means, Lilaci?” Burr said. “If that be a full-sized adult, there’s only one way I can see that it's been returned to the skies . . .”
“Dânoz,” Lilaci said. “What depths is he not willing to sink to? What evil magic has he conjured to summon a dragon?”
“Why hasn’t he sent out his armies after us?” Fewn asked. “Or, if this dragon isn’t out after us? It wouldn’t be for . . . Kera, would it?”
As the clouds, thick with red now, were only but a mile out, low in the northern sky, Lilaci felt a solidified dread well up in her chest as a silhouetted figure soared down out of the cover of clouds. It was unmistakable in its shape and flew at a tremendous speed directly at them.
“It can’t see us, right?” Fewn asked.
“No,” Ezmerelda answered. “Nothing can.”
“Well, its flying right at us,” Fewn said, her hand moving to the hilt of her sword.
The first thing they could make out in the form of the figure was the long wings outspread, and then a curling tail that flowed behind it. Then she saw its eyes, reflecting red in the light of dusk. A drop of rain landed in the sand next to her with a dry plop. Then another.
“I’ve fought dragons before,” Gogenanth said. “Aim for the weak points, eyes, mouth, the pit beneath arms, even a soft spot in the belly.”
“That’s not like any dragon we’ve ever fought,” Ezmerelda said. “We fought the dragons of Riverend; decaying, smaller versions of larger dragons. They were starving. Whatever that is ahead, that’s a full adult.”
Suddenly, all of their spirits sank further when another figure emerged from the cloud line, and with it a great plume of dragonfire that tore through the sky, it was so bright it nearly lit the entire sky in a bright, hot flash of light.
“By all that is holy,” Burr said. “Two of them.”
“Dânoz,’ Lilaci grumbled. “He’s unleashed his army alright . . .”
The two dragons swept down from the storm with a wicked ferocity—smoke bellowed out from their great mouths full of sharp, aged teeth. Their wings outstretched, even in the distance told Lilaci that they were many times larger than Herradax. Lilaci took another gulp with the sight of another dragon dipping out of the dark, red cloud line. Then lightning shot out of the clouds and snapped into the desert floor below. Thunder boomed out from the clouds as another dragon glided down.
“Four . . .” Fewn said. “How many are there going to be? We can’t fight all of them.”
“We can take a few down first,” Burr said, with his teeth clenched.
“There,” Ezmerelda said, pointing up at the dragons. “Another! Up in the clouds. Another just as big!”
“They are heading directly toward us,” Gogenanth said. “You say Dânoz sent them out after us? His magic is strong, and it may be able to overpower my own, even with my Azulūz given to me by my gods.”
“Let them come then,” Roren said, swaying his sword back and forth with his weight low. “If it’s to keep Kera alive from their claw and fire, I’ll gladly send them back to where they came from.”
Another let out a mighty roar that tore through the sky, followed by a frightful plume of bright dragonfire of a violent yellow and orange. They continued gliding directly down toward Lilaci and the others, and then finally, one more silhouette emerged from the clouds, a burst of lightning erupted down behind them, illuminating them fully.
“Six there are,” Burr said. “Six war dragons, and six of us. This’ll be a tale told throughout the years. The first battle with dragons since the Great Serpentine War, and here we are, mere mortals versus the gods’ grandest, and most frightful creation. I like it!”
“We don’t all have a death wish, old man,” Ezmerelda said, turning a spiteful eye to him.
“This isn’t go
ing to be easy,” Fewn said. “It’s not like we can all just go and kill a dragon each. We’re going to have to fight together. Separate them and attack them one by one. I have to ask, Lilaci, how is your Sanzoral? You ready for this fight? I hope you have some positivity in your answer.”
“It's strong,” she replied, holding her hand up and letting the violet flames cascade over it. “I think it knows what’s coming. It’s speaking to me in a way, it feels like a scarab trying to break through deep sand.”
They watched intently at the approaching dragons as the raindrops pattered on the sands around them under the hellish red sky. As the dragons drew closer Lilaci was able to make out their features more clearly: long horns on their heads, and hundreds of smaller ones lining down their backs to the tips of their tales and all along the length of their wings. Wild, ferocious eyes glowed out from their sullen eyes on heads with long snouts armored with dragonscale. Dragon’s eyes are like nothing else I’ve ever seen. No song can do them justice. A wilder thing has never existed, a dragon is one of the last remaining creatures of the old world.
The vast desert went wild in the coming storm—sands blew violently past them and the sky erupted with surging lightning and exploding thunder. The sands themselves seemed to sense the oncoming flight of dragons, and they seemed to be trying to flee. Even the wind itself seemed to be afraid.
Lilaci gripped her sword tightly in her hand, twisting the black metal with her palms. They all stood there in the storm as the rain fell on their clothes, watching the dragons approach with their ancient roars that coursed through the storm. Their wings spread out wide ripped through the air as the dragons snarled and hissed.
“It was good fighting by your side,” Fewn said to Lilaci, both glaring up at the oncoming battle. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was a real honor.”
“This isn’t the end, Fewn,” she replied. I lie to her because I don’t know myself. The old tales tell dragonfire will not only rip flesh and muscle from bone but can burn away the bone itself to the sands. This may be our last fight, the last time we stand up straight on the desert, the last time I have to remember Kera’s smile, her kind eyes, her courage . . .
“Here they come!” Burr yelled out into the storm, Lilaci heard the familiar determination in his voice as he readied himself for battle. “Remember what Gogenanth said, aim for the weakness in their armor.”
The six dragons glided down at a frightening speed, and Lilaci could hear their wings soaring through the winds as they approached. Drawing their wings into their bodies the rate of their descent increased, and she could see they indeed were heading right for the group—even with Gogenanth’s spell.
“Draw your sword,” she said to him. “There’s no hiding from the hungry eyes of dragons!”
He quit his chanting and drew his scimitar and held it firmly at his side. “It’s been too long since my blade tasted the blood of evil dragons flying in the name of false idols. Bring on your fury dragons, for you’ll find mine to be just as strong!”
“Argh!” Ezmerelda let out a battle cry, cracking her voice with how loud she had to scream in the storm.
Roren then let out another yell, “For Kera! For the Dragon’s Breath!”
“For Kera!” Burr yelled out, spit flying from his lips.
The dragons were nearly on top of them in their flight, and Lilaci saw a spark light in the long neck of the lead dragon, a fire was brewing from inside of the beast and was flowing up its neck and was being readied to be spewed upon them any second. The fire would engulf them all, she knew.
Now’s the time to test your merit, Lilaci. Were you placed upon these lands for a reason? Were you given the light of the Sanzoral for any other reason than to take Kera back to Dânoz and the others? Or is there another fate for you in this life? This is the defining moment. If you can’t save your friends now, then nothing else is going to save them. This will be the end. Are you strong enough? I—I don’t know if I am, but all my training, and everything I am has come to this moment. I either prove I’m strong enough, or we all die. There’s no other outcome to this tale. Life or death. And staring now into the thousand teeth of the mighty dragon before us . . . I choose life!
The dragon let out its fire down onto the sands with a fury that flew with the heat of a hundred erupting volcanoes, and a deafening burn that drowned out the sound of the lightning storm all around. The fire fell onto the group as they stood in a single line, side by side, ready to fight or die trying. As the fire fell upon them they all put up their hands to block out the blinding light and heat of the dragonfire. None of them stood a chance against a single dragon’s might of that size. Each of them knew what it meant to fight a dragon, it always meant death.
In the bright white and orange raging fire that pounded on them and the sounds, a shimmer of light appeared to crack through. It was faint, but it wasn’t the same color of the dragon’s fire, but a faint . . . violet color. The dragon’s fire beat down on the group and the surrounding sands with a furious heat that would have burned any living creature to nothing more than blackened dust, even a structure of stone would have been burned and melted to an unrecognizable state. And as the dragon flew past, each of the other dragons let out a vicious plume of fresh dragonfire upon the group. All six of the dragons laid their wrath down upon Lilaci and her friends as they flew by, and after each had done so they landed on the other side of them, each of their claws sinking into the desert stone as their wings folded in and they stood watching for the victims of their attack once the fire died down.
They growled and hissed as they watched the flames roar on the sands, and as the heat died down and the flames turned from white to a golden orange, they saw that the purple flames were beginning to grow as the others faded away.
Lilaci looked up at the dragons, she could feel her eyes ripping with wild violet flames, as she stared down the pack of old dragons from inside the ring of purple fire she’d created to cocoon her friends from the dragonfire. She was down on one knee with both knuckles planted on the sand. The fire of the Sanzoral was pulsing out from her hands to protect her friends, and it had been enough to withstand the dragonfire.
“Lilaci,” Fewn said eagerly. “Your Sanzoral . . . it’s strong enough to fight their fires!”
The others seemed too stunned to speak, each of them looking at Lilaci with a sense of awe like they were looking at a god—Then she stood and held her sword at her side in the raging storm. She undid her tunic and let it fall to the sand. Her sleek black hair whipped in the wind at her shoulder, and she dug her heels into the ground.
“Ah,” Gogenanth said, “this is more like it. A fight with real dragons!”
“I know who brought you here,” Lilaci said to the dragons, her sword swaying from side to side. “I know why, and I know who you’re going after next. You won’t touch her. She is the real queen of your kind. You’re nothing more than animals blinded by a rage instilled in you by him. You don’t fight us because you choose to, but if you’ve come for a fight . . . you’ve found one!”
Chapter Thirty-Five
A bolt of lightning like silver fire shot directly into the ground between Lilaci and the dragons. It was a blinding flash that sent the small hairs on her arms stiff. The ear-piercing roars of the dragons were muted then by the deafening clap of thunder that sent ripples through her body. Then the sand rushed in again, and the storm grew to a sandstorm in the middle of the raging, pounding rain in the time that fell between the eerie red glow of dusk and the oncoming twilight.
The lightning vanished as quickly as it had come, and as the six dragons ahead hissed and snarled with fresh smoke still rising from their mouths full of sharp teeth, Lilaci was trying to form a plan in her head. The dragons don’t seem to notice the sandstorm, so I’m not sure how effective the Sanzoral’s control of the sand will be, but my fire, it can combat against their own fire.
She looked back at her comrades and friends. “This is it!” she said in the rip-r
oaring winds and sands. “There’s no second chance, we charge like they were a battalion of soldiers before us. We overwhelm them with the wrath of man they haven’t seen in far too long!”
“For Kera!” Roren yelled out in the storm with his sword held high over his head.
“For Kera!” Fewn followed, Lilaci saw the familiar look in her eye of the trained assassin that was embedded in her instincts now.
“For Kera!” Burr yelled, his wrinkled face, glaring eye, and wide stance showed the hardened soldier he had been all his long years.
“For Kera!” Gogenanth and Ezmerelda said together, and a smile came to Lilaci’s face as she saw the strength and eagerness for battle in her oldest . . . and newest friends.
“Ready?” Lilaci called, ready to lead the charge. The dragons before them clawed at the ground with their thick claws, and their wings shifted and waved in the sandstorm. They roared and hissed, but then, all together . . . They stopped their roars, and the sounds of the rushing storm and pounding thunder took over again. Each of the six dragons raised their heads and looked east, their long necks layered with thick scales and horns looked sleek from the rain and the muscles in their necks bulged in the red light of the fading sun.
“What is it?” Ezmerelda asked. “They look like they’re about to fly away, like a cat ready to pounce.”
“Something is coming,” Burr said. “By the sky, there! Look.” He pointed with his sword to the east, high in the sky.”
Lilaci shot her gaze in that direction, high up in the air, and in the dark clouds she saw nothing . . . Nothing until a bolt of lightning shot through the cloud in the distance, and she saw the black figure of something gliding through the air with wide wings outstretched.
“Another one?” Fewn asked. “We should attack now while they’re distracted. Hurry!”
“Wait,” Lilaci said, holding her hand up to the others. Then they were all startled by the sound of a mighty roar that swept down from the beast flying toward them, it was a call that resembled the roar of one of the six dragons next to them . . .