— Chapter Twenty-Eight —
Turbulence
Daroandir didn’t know what to think of the change that had come over Iadrawyn. Although she was usually introspective, she had become completely withdrawn, driven only by a need for vengeance. This was not the Iadrawyn he knew.
He herded her along the mountain corridors, hoping they would not stumble across any dark dragons that had stayed behind. Lodariel had dashed out of sight long before to rescue Valanandir. Daroandir hoped they were safe. Lodariel could handle practically anything, but entering the home nest of the drakhalu alone was suicide.
Iadrawyn suddenly stopped, her eyes wide and unseeing. Daroandir tried to coax her onward, but she stood fast.
“Valanandir!” Her voice was a tortured whisper. She fumbled with her pack, oblivious of Daroandir’s presence. She pulled out the Levniquenya.
The Quenya flared to life, illuminating the tunnel. Iadrawyn’s golden hair stirred in an unnatural breeze. Daroandir stifled a curse at his helplessness. All he could do was hope that if there were any dragons still left in the mountain, they were too far away to see this. Hours seemed to pass before the light flared and died. Iadrawyn’s hair settled about her shoulders. Her eyes rolled up into her head and she crumpled to the floor.
Crouching beside her, he tried to shake her awake. Although she was breathing, her body was limp under his hands. With a sigh of resignation, he secured the Levniquenya in her pack and scooped her into his arms. If they came across any dark creatures, he would be helpless to stop them, but a growing sense of urgency told him not to wait for Iadrawyn to wake. At least she wasn’t a heavy burden.
Daroandir knew if he survived, the flight through the tunnels would haunt him long after it was over. With his ears straining for any sound of approach, he ran through the shadows along twisting branches of corridors, trying his best not to jar Iadrawyn. He wished Lodariel were there to guard his back. He hoped her mission to rescue Valanandir would not be her last. Comfortable as he was underground, he couldn’t imagine entering the drakhalu’s nest. Still, if anyone could do it, it was Lodariel.
Daroandir realized the air was becoming cooler. He must be getting close to the exit. Iadrawyn stirred in his arms. He slowed to a walk and tried once more to wake her. Her brow furrowed and her eyelids flickered before opening. She looked around in confusion.
“You did something with the Quenya and passed out. I didn’t want to wait, so I carried you. I think we are close to the exit.” Daroandir spoke in hushed tones, both to reduce the echo along the tunnel, and for Iadrawyn’s sake.
“Thank you.” Iadrawyn gave a weak smile.
“Can you walk?”
“I think so…”
Daroandir eased her onto her feet. She swayed for a moment before steadying herself, leaning on his arm. Once she had regained her balance, she gave him a nod and they began to walk. The air continued to get cooler and was blessedly free of the stench of dragon. Daroandir had drawn his sword after putting Iadrawyn down, but the taste of freedom made him less wary. It wasn’t until they were about to round the final corner that led back outside that he stopped, grabbing Iadrawyn’s arm.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Do you hear that?” Although he hadn’t noticed it at first, a dry hissing sound came from outside, like a dragon’s scales rubbing against one another, accompanied by heavy breathing. The scent had also returned, although it was spicy and nowhere near as strong.
The dull thud of heavy footsteps echoed along the tunnel behind them. Daroandir’s sweat turned to ice. They were trapped!
Iadrawyn closed her eyes, concentrating. Daroandir placed himself between her and the tunnel behind them, not knowing what else to do. Her eyes flew open.
“Come on!” She tugged at his arm, pulling him forward.
“What are you doing?” he whispered, shaking his head violently and digging in his heels.
Giving up, she let go and ran toward the exit. Cursing, Daroandir ran after her. She rounded the corner ahead of him, just out of his reach.
Had she gone mad? Digging deep, he put on a final burst of speed and ran out into the open to stand beside her, sword drawn.
“Would you fight me, little elf?” A familiar voice rumbled in amusement.
Daroandir looked up. “Malarin!”
“We have to go. There was a dragon in the tunnel behind us.” Iadrawyn clambered onto Malarin’s back and held out her hand to Daroandir. He scrambled up after her.
Muscles tightly coiled, Malarin launched herself into the air. Her wings extended with a snap. For a terrifying moment, they hovered in midair. Then Malarin’s wings began to beat the air and they started to rise. A dark shadow emerged from the mountain below.
“Look out!” Daroandir cried.
Malarin looked down and snorted. “He’s just a hatchling. No match for me.”
The creature looked up at them and gave a screech while ineffectually beating its small wings. Daroandir let out a relieved sigh.
“Now where are the others?” Malarin swung her head back on her long neck to look at Iadrawyn.
Iadrawyn closed her eyes for a moment, holding her pack. She opened her eyes and pointed. “That way.”
Malarin veered to the northeast. Daroandir watched the ground below through narrowed eyes. His vigilance was eventually rewarded with the sight of two figures stumbling along a narrow mountain trail.
“There they are!” he shouted.
Malarin banked a hard left and began to descend. Daroandir’s stomach dropped. He tried not to clutch at Iadrawyn’s waist. The mountains rushed to meet them. Daroandir closed his eyes. Although he was glad to have Malarin to carry them to and from the dark lands, he had no desire to fly again once this was over. His bones shook as Malarin’s feet touched the ground. Daroandir opened his eyes.
Iadrawyn was already off the dragon’s back, rushing toward Valanandir. Valanandir stumbled toward her. They landed in each other’s arms. Valanandir looked horrible. He was covered with blood, sweat, and grime. Heedless, he seized Iadrawyn’s face in both hands and kissed her.
Daroandir suddenly found the barren rock of the surrounding mountainside fascinating. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Lodariel and Malarin admiring it as well. A faint rustle a few moments later as Iadrawyn and Valanandir drew apart let Daroandir and the others know it was safe to drop the pretense.
Iadrawyn gripped Valanandir’s arm. “Promise me—”
“I know. I’ve already promised Lodariel. I swear I will never do anything so reckless and foolish again.”
“Was it worth it?” she asked.
“Vlaz is dead.”
Iadrawyn’s gaze turned hard. “Good. Now let’s get out of here and put an end to this war.”
They piled on Malarin’s back and launched back into the sky. Iadrawyn sat at the front, cradling her pack with its precious cargo, while Daroandir was at the rear. Valanandir and Lodariel were sandwiched between them. Before long, they were soaring over the mountains. Daroandir looked over his shoulder for one last look at Hamadi Glaurinu. He flinched in startlement, causing Lodariel to also turn for a look. A cluster of dark forms soared in the air, flying in their direction. Sensing their distress, Malarin twisted her sinuous neck over her shoulder.
“That brat who saw us must have roused the others.” She gave an ominous rumble. “They will all be old-timers and fledglings. If I were alone, or with even only two passengers, I could outfly them, but this may be a challenge. Hang on!”
Malarin pumped her wings furiously and they began to ascend even higher. The wind rushed against Daroandir’s face. After several moments, Malarin began to glide.
“I can ride the thermals up here and conserve some of my energy,” she called back to them. “Plus, it always helps to hold the higher ground, even in the sky.”
The swarm was below them, but closing in. A few of them blasted fiery plumes of outrage. Presumably, they had discovered the theft of the Quenya. Daroandir
held tightly to Lodariel’s waist. He had never felt so helpless.
One of the younger creatures tried to reach Malarin, but Malarin gave a fiery blast of her own and banked hard, twisting out of the way. The creature uttered a startled whimper and dropped back down with the others.
“Puppy!” Malarin taunted at the retreating form.
“Uh, Malarin?” Valanandir tried to get the dragon’s attention.
“What is it? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“I think we’re in trouble. Look over there.” Valanandir pointed to the northeast. A large, black form was moving toward them. Daroandir’s heart dropped. It could only be one creature: Nargaz.
“This is not good,” Malarin said. “Even I will have difficulty out-maneuvering all those leftovers back there as well as Nargaz. Iadrawyn, is there anything you can do with the Quenya?”
Several moments of silence passed as Iadrawyn considered. “Get us north of the mountains and over the battlefield. I want to end this once and for all. Valanandir, I will need your help for this.” She began speaking to him in low tones over her shoulder. Valanandir nodded at her words.
“If you two are going to do anything crazy with the Quenya from up here, I think you should lash yourselves in place,” Lodariel said. “It won’t do any of us any good if you both pass out and slip off.” Remembering what had happened to Iadrawyn the last time she had used the Quenya, Daroandir was thankful for the clever suggestion.
“You should all probably tie yourselves on anyway,” Malarin said. “Things are going to get rough up here soon, and it will take some acrobatics to get past Nargaz.”
All four elves scrambled to get rope from their packs and bind themselves to Malarin’s back ridges before Nargaz got within range—no easy task from midair. Nargaz flew closer.
When the last of them was secure, Malarin rolled to the right without warning. Nargaz flew through the space they had occupied only a moment before. The wing of dark dragons attacked from below, their flames licking the air just out of range.
Nargaz gave a furious roar and dove straight for Malarin. Daroandir clutched at Lodariel and wished they were anywhere else. At the last moment, Malarin twisted away. The elves hung upside down before she righted herself, wings working to propel them farther north through the gap. Daroandir’s stomach lurched and he broke out in a cold sweat.
One of the weaker dragons managed to claw at Malarin’s tail, throwing her off balance. They fishtailed as she tried to regain her equilibrium and Nargaz scored a long gash in her side. With a grunt of pain, she gave an abrupt twist, using her tail to slap Nargaz’s face. Nargaz was jarred off course, shaking his head.
Daroandir could make out the mist-shrouded morass of the Dira Nelar in the distance beyond the mountains. Malarin surged ahead. With a furious growl, Nargaz pumped his wings and began to pace them. His scarlet eyes narrowed and he took a sharp breath.
“Malarin…” Daroandir tried to articulate a warning.
“I know, I know!”
As Nargaz began to exhale a fiery blast, Malarin angled upward and propelled herself just out of range. Daroandir could feel the scorching air below through the soles of his boots. Too close. Malarin continued to dodge attacks from below and flew as hard as she could, panting with the effort. Blood streamed from the gash in her side.
“Iadrawyn, if you’re going to do something, you had better do it soon,” Malarin said. “I don’t like having Nargaz below me any better than having him above me. I cannot fight properly with all of you on my back.”
“Just get us to the battlefield!”
Iadrawyn began to open her pack, pulling the Levniquenya free. The light from its gold-chased engraving flashed weirdly in the gloom. She grabbed both of Valanandir’s hands and held them against its smooth, metal surface. The light flickered and flared.
Sensing something was afoot, Nargaz attacked Malarin from below. Malarin rolled out of the way at the last moment, causing them all to hang upside down once more. From this angle, the mountain peaks looked like the fangs they were named for. Daroandir gulped and closed his eyes until they righted themselves.
Valanandir and Iadrawyn still held the Quenya. A warm glow surrounded them. Daroandir had no idea what they were planning. The Quenya could not be used as a weapon.
The Dira Nelar drew closer. Daroandir could make out the tiny forms of the elven army at the mountain base through the mist. They were being pushed back by the drakhal army on the ground, while being harried by dark dragons from the skies. Some of Malarin’s kin also flew the skies and did what they could to protect the elves, but they were too few. In moments, the elven army would crumble and give way. If they fell to the dark creatures and Nargaz managed to take down Malarin, the few elders and children left in Melatelari would be all that remained of the elven race. They would be easy prey.
All thought was jarred from Daroandir’s mind as Nargaz threw himself at Malarin. Malarin’s body shook from the impact, but her passengers remained secure. Valanandir and Iadrawyn scarcely seemed to notice. They were lost in the power of the Quenya.
The two dragons locked limbs and struggled for supremacy. Nargaz was much larger than Malarin. He was so close, Daroandir was almost overpowered by his musky scent. Both dragons flapped their wings as they grappled, putting them in the middle of a whirlwind. Daroandir would have liked to shoot at Nargaz now that he was at such close range, but any arrows would be buffeted by the artificial winds. The light surrounding Valanandir and Iadrawyn grew stronger.
Unperturbed, Lodariel pulled a throwing dagger from her belt. She paused to take aim, and threw. The blade whirled through the air, flashing as it flew point over pommel. Nargaz gave a horrible cry as the blade landed, tearing a hole in his left wing.
Breaking his hold, Nargaz flapped his wings, trying to regain his balance. Malarin used the opportunity to surge ahead once more. The mountains fell away below them. They were over the battlefield.
Nargaz uttered a terrible roar. Daroandir looked back and saw him closing in, inhaling deeply for one more fiery blast. Daroandir could feel Malarin flagging beneath them. He doubted she could manage another escape. There was nothing he could do. He clung to Lodariel’s waist and waited for them to meet their fate.
The world exploded into a realm of light.
Daroandir blinked, tears streaming down his face. He was surrounded by complete silence. Time stood still. The only sound was his heart pounding in his ears.
The light faded to a bearable level. Daroandir felt his gaze drawn upward. Overhead, the ceiling of clouds that had been in place for so long… unraveled. As the cloud cover broke apart, the sun began to pierce through. Daroandir felt its familiar warmth on his face and let out a joyful laugh. Lodariel’s voice joined him.
Looking back, he saw Nargaz recoil. Having embraced the darkness for so long, even he and his dragons seemed to have developed an aversion to the sun. Nargaz gave an enraged bellow of pain.
The clouds continued to break apart until only the patch over the dark lands remained. Nargaz and his pursuing minions retreated beneath it, their frustration palpable.
“Look!” Lodariel pointed below.
The rest of Nargaz’s dragon army had also retreated from the battle. The drakhalu were reduced to piles of dust. Few reached the shadows of the mountains in time. The sunlight glinted off weapons and armor as the elven army cheered. Daroandir found himself cheering with them. They had reclaimed the Quenya and survived.
It took him a few moments to notice the carnage amidst the celebration below. Elven and dragon bodies littered the battlefield. Only a handful of Malarin’s kin remained in the air. This was the price of victory.
At least it could not be said that those they had lost had died in vain. Daroandir swore a silent oath to the glorious presence of the Quenya. He was sure all the surviving elves were doing the same.
Never again would they allow the Quenya to fall into enemy hands.
Light Chasers (The World of Lasniniar Book 0) Page 51