‘But what?’
‘Come on. Visions of the future? You’re joking, right?’
Corthie shrugged. ‘If that’s what she saw, then that’s what’s going to happen.’
‘You believe it?’
‘My other sister can do it, so why not Kelsey? Did you think she was just making it up to ensnare you?’
‘Maybe.’
Corthie shook his head. ‘She was devastated by that vision; it broke her heart. Imagine being told who you’re going to end up with, when you don’t even like the person.’
‘I don’t have to imagine; that’s what happened to me. Wait a minute, she doesn’t like me?’
‘She thought you were an arrogant arsehole. At least, she did when I last spoke to her. I have to warn you; if you treat her badly, I will break you in two.’
‘But we’ve no idea if we’ll ever find her again.’
‘You still don’t get it – if she saw you together, then it will happen. Right now, you’re as good as immortal. Whatever happens tonight, you won’t die.’
‘I thought you didn’t believe in fate or destiny any more.’
‘This is completely different. It’s not fate, more an inevitability. It used to drive my other sister crazy. These visions are a curse.’
Van sipped his vodka. ‘You Holdfasts are insane. And anyway, if you believe all that, then why are you so full of despair? You said before that everything was hopeless. It can’t be that bad, not if you know your sister is alright.’
‘I’m glad Kelsey’s alive, but I wasn’t in the vision, nor was Aila. I could die tonight.’
Van glanced round at the other tables. ‘Judging by the amount of stares we’re getting, there’s a decent chance of that happening. We should get out of here.’
‘But this is a port town. They must be used to seeing strangers.’
‘Not any more. The only foreigners they’ve seen around here recently are Banner soldiers. This is not my first time in Kinell; I was posted here a few years back, as part of a peace-keeping operation when the locals rose up against the rulers of Alea Tanton. It wasn’t a full scale war, but it got quite nasty.’
Corthie frowned. ‘Now you tell me.’
Two sailors got up from a crowded table and walked over to them, while their comrades watched.
‘Lads,’ said one; ‘enjoying yourselves?’
‘Aye,’ said Corthie.
‘Good, good. Now drink up, and get out.’
‘Why?’
‘You’re not welcome here,’ growled the other sailor, his features tight as if he was having difficulty controlling his temper.
‘My friend is right,’ said the first sailor. ‘You’re either Banner soldiers or spies, and we don’t like either in our tavern.’
‘You hate the ruling gods, do you?’ said Corthie.
The second sailor opened his mouth, but his colleague stopped him. ‘We’re not saying that; we’re not falling for that old trick. Just finish your drinks, and leave.’
Van nodded. ‘No problem. We’ll be on our way in a moment.’
‘No, we won’t,’ said Corthie; ‘we’re staying put. No one tells me where I can and can’t drink. Now, would a spy say that?’
The tavern stilled.
‘You’re a big lad,’ said the first sailor, ‘but there are thirty boys in this tavern. You sure about those odds?’
Corthie shrugged. ‘Bring it on.’
‘Wait!’ said Van. He glanced at Corthie. ‘Shut up. Look,’ he said, turning back to the sailors; ‘my friend here has had a little too much to drink. We’ll take your offer and leave; we don’t want any trouble.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ said Corthie; ‘I quite fancy some trouble.’
An older man approached, his empty hands raised. ‘Please, take this outside.’ He pointed at Corthie. ‘And you’re barred. I knew you were no good the moment you walked in.’
‘They’re Banner scum,’ shouted one of the sailors from the table. ‘Everyone in this tavern remembers what it was like when they occupied this city.’
Van stood, and the second sailor swung a fist at him. Van dodged back a step, and the blow glanced off the side of his face. The rest of the sailors in the tavern got to their feet, shouting. Corthie finished his drink and felt for his battle-vision. It was still weak, but it gave him a rush to feel it course through him. A sailor aimed a punch at him, and he raised his hand and grabbed the fist as it was about to connect with his face. He pulled the sailor’s arm towards him, then brought it down against the edge of the table, breaking it. Two other sailors attacked him from the side, raining blows down onto him, and he rose to his feet, a broad smile on his face, and waded into the fight.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Corthie and Van were staggering along the wharf. Corthie’s fists were bruised and cut, and blood was coming from a wound on the side of his face, but he hadn’t felt as good in a long time. Next to him, Van wasn’t quite as happy. One of the sailors had clubbed him over the head with a bottle. It hadn’t broken, but a large bump was forming on the top of his skull, and he scowled in pain as they made their way past the rows of house boats.
‘That was great,’ said Corthie.
Van said nothing.
‘And you did alright,’ Corthie said to him; ‘you’re not too bad in a fight, well, at least until that guy battered you over the head. You should have got out of his way.’
‘There’s something wrong with you, Corthie.’
‘Why, because I like a fight? It was weird; normally I would have destroyed the lot of them, but with my battle-vision still sluggish, and with all the aches and pains, it actually made it quite even. We would have won, though, if you hadn’t let yourself get clubbed. Did you see the guy I threw into the bar?’ He laughed. ‘He did a somersault in the air and landed upside down.’
‘We’re lucky the town militia didn’t turn up.’
‘I would have beaten them up too.’
Van shook his head at him as they turned and followed the narrow pier to their boat.
Naxor was sitting in the galley smoking a cigarette when they descended the steps from the deck. He glanced up at them, and his eyes widened.
‘What happened? I nearly panicked when I got back and realised that you two weren’t here. Have we been discovered?’
‘Calm down,’ Corthie said. ‘We were just out for a drink.’
‘Then why is there blood on your face? And you, Van, are you alright?’
‘We got into a bar fight,’ said the former mercenary, sitting heavily on the bench.
Corthie pulled a full bottle of vodka from his clothes. ‘And look what I snatched on the way out.’
‘But Corthie’s not supposed to leave the boat,’ Naxor cried. ‘You endangered us all, Van; how could you allow it?’
‘Next time,’ said Van, ‘you try to stop him.’
‘There won’t be a next time,’ said Naxor.
‘Shut up,’ said Corthie as he opened the bottle. ‘I’m going out again tomorrow night.’
‘What?’ said Van.
‘Aye. It’s time I got myself back into shape, just like you were saying earlier. I could feel my battle-vision getting sharper as the fight went on. And it’s made me hungry, too. In fact, I haven’t felt this good since Yoneath; this alive.’ He glanced at his bruised knuckles and took a swig. ‘I’m getting better, I can feel it, but sitting in this boat isn’t going to help. I’m going to get fit, and then we’re going to find Aila and my sister.’
Naxor and Van glanced at each other.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Corthie; ‘they thought we were Banner spies; they had no idea who I really was. I’ll see if they fancy a re-match tomorrow. Now, let’s get hammered.’
Chapter 8
The Son Rises
C atacombs, Torduan Mountains, Khatanax – 12th Luddinch 5252
‘That’s the plan,’ said Sable. ‘What do you think?’
Millen and Maddie glanced at each other, thei
r faces reflecting the red glow of the lava below them.
‘I have a slightly more sensible plan,’ said Maddie; ‘we use the Quadrant to rescue Blackrose. You’re all better now after being stabbed, and Sanguino’s been out flying every day. What else are we waiting for? Why do we need to fight Grimsleep?’
‘Us three sitting here don’t need to,’ said Sable. ‘It’s Sanguino. I’ve already suggested to him that we leave, but Sanguino sees it as a matter of honour. But this is it; after we do this, we’ll get Blackrose.’
Maddie narrowed her eyes. ‘You promise?’
‘I promise. And there’s more. I think a few other dragons are on the verge of agreeing to come with us to Dragon Eyre. It’s hardly an army, but it’s better than just Blackrose and Sanguino. We can use the fight with Grimsleep to make them commit.’
‘Which dragons?’ said Millen.
‘Well, Broadwing, for a start.’
‘Who?’
‘Silver body, black wings. He’s about the same age as Blackrose, but has been sidelined by Deathfang and his cronies for decades. He’s a big dragon, as his name suggests. And Deepblue.’
‘What, that scrawny little thing?’ said Maddie. ‘She’s even smaller than Burntskull.’
‘She’s tired of being pushed around,’ said Sable. ‘This is our choice – if we fight Grimsleep, then we’ll have two other dragons to show Blackrose when we free her. If we flee, we’ll have none.’
‘Is that it?’ said Maddie. ‘A reject, and the tiniest dragon in the Catacombs?’
‘Alright, Maddie,’ said Sable; ‘instead of complaining all the time, why don’t you make the decision? Come on. Weigh up all of our options and tell us what to do.’
Sable darted into her mind as Maddie’s brows furrowed. She could see the logic in Sable’s plan, but didn’t want to admit it, and there was still a niggling sense of guilt in her thoughts about keeping the truth of the Quadrant from Blackrose. Sable suppressed her desire to meddle; she needed Maddie to agree without any covert persuasion.
‘I have questions.’
‘Go on,’ said Sable.
‘When we free Blackrose,’ she said, ‘how are we going to explain that we have the you-know-what in our possession?’
‘Leave that to me.’
‘That’s not good enough, Sable. You must have some idea.’
‘I have plenty of ideas. My main one at present is that I tell her we’ve raided Old Alea and stolen one from the gods. In order for this to work, we’ll need a diversion, which Broadwing and Deepblue can provide.’
Maddie chewed her lip for a moment. ‘I hate lying to her.’
‘I’ll take the blame if it all goes wrong.’
‘But I went along with it,’ said Maddie. ‘She’ll know.’
‘Maybe, but she thinks I’m a manipulative witch. We’ll say I forced you to do it.’
Maddie groaned. ‘Fine, we’ll do it your way.’
‘What about me?’ said Millen. ‘Don’t I get a say?’
Sable eyed him. ‘Well?’
He glanced down at the rough map that Sable had etched into the sand by the entrance of the tomb. ‘What if Grimsleep refuses to come out of his cave?’
‘He won’t. He can’t turn down a challenge and expect to remain in charge of the outlaw dragons on the other side of the valley. And, if by some incredible chance he does, then we can still claim victory. We’ll have plenty of witnesses.’
‘What if he uses fire more than once?’
‘We’ve been over this; dragons might bathe each other in fire when they first start fighting, but it’s just for show. Flames don’t hurt them. I only need to make it through that first burst.’
‘What if he gets help from the other dragons that live there?’
‘Those witnesses I mentioned; they’ll join in if the rules that govern fights are broken.’ She smiled. ‘Any more objections?’
He gazed at her for a moment, then blinked. ‘No; I’m fine with it.’
‘The plan needs all of us to play our part; each of us has a vital role. Are you clear on what you need to do?’
Maddie and Millen nodded.
Sable stood. ‘I’ll tell Sanguino, and we’ll let Deathfang know that it’s going to be tomorrow at dawn.’
* * *
Several hours later, Sable sat alone by the edge of the tomb, smoking a cigarette. It might be her last, she thought; if the plan failed, then it would be. The idea of possible failure didn’t make her anxious; if anything, it just made her more determined to succeed. She felt a thrill run through her; she would soon be involved in a dragon fight to the death, and she realised that she had missed the excitement of being in danger. It was tempered a little by her concern for Sanguino; she didn’t want him getting hurt.
She wondered if she should send a message to Naxor. She had discovered his whereabouts a few days previously, living with Corthie, Van and another Banner officer in a boat in Kin Dai. By the looks of things, they seemed to be doing nothing but sitting around getting drunk, despite Kelsey and Aila being missing. Perhaps she should look for her niece herself, but she knew how difficult that would be. She had also been spying on Belinda in Alea Tanton. The traitor was still working for the Ascendants, and the Sextant was where it had been since they had returned with it from Yoneath. She had managed to get into Leksandr’s head for a few minutes, and had sensed the extreme frustration he felt regarding his inability to get the Sextant working, and his worry that Edmond, the Second Ascendant, would hold him responsible for the failure. He also had a suspicion that Belinda might not be completely loyal, which had made Sable think for a moment. It would be funny if the Ascendants turned on her; it would be exactly what Belinda deserved.
She took a drag on the cigarette and went over the plan in her mind. She felt a little guilty for extending the length of time that Blackrose was in captivity, but everything needed to be perfect. She tried to picture herself in Dragon Eyre; was that what she wanted – to go to another new world? Yes, she craved it, like she craved the feeling that came with the risks she took. She stubbed the cigarette out and stood, then noticed Sanguino directly behind her.
‘I didn’t want to disturb your thoughts, my rider,’ he said. ‘This plan of yours; it isn’t entirely honourable.’
She put her hands on her hips. ‘Neither am I.’
‘Double-crossing and tricks are not in a dragon’s nature.’
‘No, but they’re in mine, and we want to win, don’t we? If you’re having doubts, then we can forget the whole thing and flee, just as I advised before.’
He bowed his head. ‘No. I could never live with myself if we did that. I must face Grimsleep.’
‘Then, let’s go.’ She gestured to Millen and Maddie, who were standing close by, ready. Millen held up the large leather covering that he had fashioned.
Sable’s nose crinkled. ‘It stinks.’
‘Yeah, well, it would, I guess. It’s been smeared in…’
She held her hand up. ‘I don’t want to know. As long as it survives the initial burst of flames I can put up with the smell. Climb on.’
Maddie pulled herself up the rope ladder running down Sanguino’s flank, a large bag over her shoulder, then Millen followed, after folding up the leather sheet. Sable glanced outside for a moment. There was still an hour before dawn, and they had been up all night. She patted her pocket, locating the sticks of keenweed she had secreted, as well as one of dullweed, in case it all went wrong and she needed something to numb the pain.
‘Are you ready?’ said Sanguino.
She nodded, then climbed up to the dragon’s shoulders, settling down between Maddie and Millen, who were already strapped in. Millen had been constantly modifying the harness, as well as making the large sheet and another harness for when Blackrose was free, and it easily accommodated the three humans. Sable linked her mind to the dragon. After so much practice, it felt like slipping a hand into a glove.
She glanced at her colleagues. ‘It’s time
for step one. Sanguino, let’s go.’
* * *
Sanguino and Sable returned to the Catacombs just as the first rays of dawn were appearing over the eastern horizon. They flew up to Deathfang’s lair, where Burntskull and Ashfall were waiting.
‘Is today the day?’ said Burntskull in an amused tone.
‘It is,’ said Sanguino, hovering by the entrance. ‘Will Deathfang be coming to witness?’
‘No,’ said Burntskull. ‘Instead, he is sending his daughter, Ashfall, to watch what happens. I hear a rumour, however, that Broadwing is going?’
‘That is correct. Deepblue also.’
Burntskull laughed. ‘Why? What benefit will those two bring? They are cowards, weak.’
‘They also wish to witness.’
‘Very well. Do not be surprised if they flee at the first sign of Grimsleep.’ He turned to Ashfall. ‘Make sure you watch everything that happens; I’m looking forward to hearing all about Sanguino’s death when you return.’
Ashfall made no response as she launched herself from the edge of the tomb. She and Sanguino circled higher, then began to fly east over the lava fields towards the far side of the valley.
‘What is that terrible smell?’ said Ashfall.
‘My rider can answer that.’
‘It’s this,’ said Sable, holding up the large leather sheet. ‘I’m going to cover myself in it when we face Grimsleep.’
Ashfall looked incredulous. ‘And why would you do such a thing? Do you think the odour will put him off?’
‘What? No. You’ll see.’
Sable arranged the sheet as they flew, securing the straps that Millen had sewn onto each corner. It was thick and heavy, and she hated the smell and how uncomfortable it felt as she pulled it up over her shoulders, leaving her head and arms free.
‘Everyone believes you will fail,’ said Ashfall.
‘Not everyone,’ said Sable.
‘Every dragon, I meant. The opinions of insects barely count.’
They saw Broadwing and Deepblue circling as they reached the halfway point between the two sides of the wide valley. The small blue dragon looked scared. Sable knew that she had never ventured to the far side of the valley before, and it had taken all of Sable’s powers to persuade her not to back out. Her mind was relatively pliant, for a dragon, and she was one of the few in the Catacombs that had proved susceptible to her powers. Next to her, Broadwing was enormous, as large as Sanguino, but much sleeker, his silver body glimmering in the early morning light. Despite his size, he had a reputation for avoiding confrontation, and was known to have backed down before much smaller challengers.
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