by JD Monroe
A heavy hand touched her shoulder. She gasped and looked up to see Tarek. He had turned back to his human form, but he was sweating and trembling. There were long, deep scratches on his back where the green dragon had torn his wing.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he said between heaving breaths. “We have to get back to the citadel. It’s not the Ironflight. We have to tell them.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I can’t explain right now, but I know for sure that I’m right,” he said. “I’m going to carry you to the Rise. If something happens to me—”
“Tarek, don’t…”
He silenced her by lightly pressing his hands to her face, then kissing her forehead. “Be practical, Gabrielle. I would very much like to live, but we cannot stand on sentiment. If something happens to me, you have to tell them. Try to get the amulet. The word is hanassa.”
“Hanassa,” she repeated. Her voice shook as her brain helpfully supplied an image of Tarek broken and bloodied like the green dragon, laying lifeless on the cold ground.
“If they’re too slow or they can’t get it, you have to tell them this. Ordahnar ira’nan arvedh. Oberzhan koth.”
“I can’t.”
“Gabrielle, you must,” he interrupted. “Say it, please.”
“Ordahnar. Ira’nan. Arvedh. Oberzhan. Koth,” she said, trembling with each word. He smiled and pulled her forward to kiss her. There was a hunger, a fervor to him that reminded him of when he made love to her the night before. It was a kiss that said he imagined it might be the last.
“Now we have to go,” he said. He hunched again, and the glistening golden skin on his back split again to reveal the growing shape of the dragon. When he had finished transforming, he took a graceful little jump into the air and hooked his talons around her shoulders, digging painfully into her collarbones. She clutched the scaly claws, praying that his grasp was more secure than it felt. As he soared into the sky, she got a dragons-eye view of the city below. Dragons of all hues exploded upward like steam geysers. They skirmished in pairs over the city, tangling and slashing at each other mid-air, while screams and shouts rose from the streets below.
Suddenly Tarek dipped in the sky. He roared, a sound so loud it left her ears ringing. He canted dangerously to one side, spinning several times as he fell. The world spun around her, and she screamed in panic. One of his wings was shredded and smoking. He released her suddenly, tossing her away like a piece of garbage.
She squealed and braced herself for the inevitable agony of broken bones, but she crashed into a giant pile of rugs. There was still a terrible jolt, and her vision flashed white as she made impact, but she remained conscious and still felt her toes. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see a cart and bright green awning hanging overhead. Piled on a nearby workbench were piles of yarn in tight skeins and a loom draped with a half-finished project. She tested her limbs and managed to get to her feet.
Tarek stood in the middle of the wide bazaar, growling at a silver-scaled dragon circling him overhead. Tarek reared back his head like a snake going to strike, then lunged toward the other dragon. Though she saw nothing, the other dragon screeched in pain and rolled out of the way. Whatever Tarek had done left a long slash on its belly, spattering blood to the stone below.
She looked around for a useful weapon, but it was as if Tarek sensed her trying to help. He turned and roared at her. The sounds were hard to understand, but she made it out. “Run!”
Biting back on her protest, she took a deep breath and turned on her heel to run. Hanassa, she chanted to herself. She needed the amulet. Hanassa, hanassa, hanassa, she murmured until it barely made sense. Get to the citadel. Find the amulet. Warn the queen. Save the city. No big deal.
The white dragons sounded that terrible call again, and she froze in mid-run. All around her in the bazaar, metal tools clattered and glass shook in its panes. The very stone under her feet vibrated, shaking up into her spine. She was overcome with the desire to lie down and curl into a ball, shoving her fingers in her ears to block out the awful sound.
A shadow passed over her, darkening the entire city street. Gabby stared up at the beast’s silvery white belly, passing slowly overhead. It wasn’t looking down at her, but rather up at the citadel. She sucked in a deep breath and held it, willing her heart to slow its frantic rush. Then she ran again.
As she approached the citadel, she merged into a procession of hundreds fleeing for the safety of the mountain-bound fortress. The people surrounding her were her size, probably the Vak that made up most of the city’s population. There were women clutching babies to their chests, and men carrying children on their backs. The queen had spoken of making arrangements for shelter if needed. Well, it was clearly needed.
A row of ornamental gardens and a wide stone-walled chasm separated the citadel from the rest of the city. Dotted throughout the crowd were the familiar, finely cut blue uniforms of the Adamant Guard. They looked like they were trying to direct the stampeding crowd, but to no avail. Things had reached a tipping point where the guards’ shouts only blended with the rest of the noise.
A piercing scream sounded, cutting through the roar of the crowd. As if they’d been waiting for the cue, everything went still and quiet as a thousand pairs of eyes looked skyward. One of the white dragons circled directly overhead.
No, no, no, Gabby thought. “Don’t look at it!” she yelled. “Don’t look!” A woman near her turned at the sound of her voice, staring at her quizzically. “Don’t. Look!” she repeated emphatically, as if saying it louder and slower would suddenly make the other woman understand English. She shook her head, pointed to her eye, then pointed up to the dragon, and shook her head again. Then she covered her eyes. The woman tilted her head, then looked up again as the dragon roared. No, dammit.
A massive beam of white light exploded from its body, a solid stream of white energy like a lightning strike hammered straight. The light struck the closest cluster of people directly, flattening them immediately. Dozens more were thrown back by a shockwave, rippling outward. But worse than that, people were still staring up at it. It was a natural reaction, but it was going to get them killed.
Gabby watched as a young girl tugged on the hand of an older woman that had to be her mother, or maybe her grandmother. The little girl’s face contorted with fear as she pleaded, pulling as hard as she could. Frozen and stiff like a mannequin, the woman simply toppled to the ground, her eyes wide and unseeing.
Gabby dashed forward and grabbed the girl’s hand. “Keep going!”
The girl stared at her, still crying pitifully for her mother.
Gabby crouched and hooked her arms under the woman’s armpits, hoping that making contact through her clothes wouldn’t have the same effect as touching Ashariah had. She hauled the woman up, then awkwardly maneuvered herself so that she had one arm slung over her shoulder. After a few lumbering steps, the woman’s weight shifted. A dark-haired man had joined her to support the woman from the other side. The little girl was cradled in his free arm, sobbing into his shoulder. He spoke rapidly in Kadirai, but she shook her head. “I don’t understand. But thank you.”
He kept chattering away. He started to look up, but Gabby paused and used her free hand to snap her fingers in his face. She repeated her pantomime to tell him not to look at the dragon. She added a dramatic face with her eyes rolling and her tongue hanging out, hoping it conveyed it’ll melt your brain right out of your skull effectively enough.
Screams erupted behind her as the white dragon released another bolt of energy. She and her companion nearly lost the woman they were helping, but they managed to keep her upright. The screams and shouts changed tone, more like shouts of victory and encouragement than abject terror. Gabby spared a glance above her. The white dragon flailed in the sky, with half a dozen smaller dragons attacking it. Two of them had latched onto one wing, ripping at it with sharp talons. As she watched, another one did the snake-str
iking maneuver that Tarek had done, and the wing split nearly in half. With another roar, the white dragon beat its wings and sent the smaller ones on a temporary retreat.
The man shook her, still speaking rapidly in the same language that she still didn’t understand. Maybe he had the same idea she had; if he repeated himself enough times, she’d magically understand. Apparently that was universal.
They were on the drawbridge now, shuffling along with the crowd. Thick chains on either side of the bridge were their only protection from falling into the deep stone chasm. Fear gripped her as she looked over the edge.
Up ahead, the ground entrance into Adamantine Rise was a massive archway. Long blue banners decorated with the silver crest of the Stoneflight hung from the dark stone on either side. Guards lined the bridge and ushered the crowd inside, while four dragons guarded the airspace above them. Two perched on stone pillars, surveying the crowds, while the other two circled in tight spirals over the mass of people. All around her was the hot press of a terrified crowd. The noise and the cramped space made her head spin.
Guards shouted as they crossed the threshold from the bridge through the gate. Another soldier in the now-familiar dark uniform appeared in her path, shouting at her. His voice was clipped, his expression stern. Language and matters of magic aside, she recognized his demeanor. It was the necessary harshness of a crisis; she’d been the same way many times in her emergency room and didn’t take it personally.
The guard pointed to the unconscious woman and repeated himself. Gabby just shook her head. “I don’t understand you. I have to see—Oh! Hanassa! I need…hanassa!” She patted her chest. The guard shook his head incredulously and turned to the man who’d been assisting her. After a brief conversation, the guard hoisted the catatonic woman into his arms like a child. The little girl screeched, and the man made a soothing noise and stroked her hair as he hurried after the guard.
Like getting sucked into an undertow, Gabby was pulled along with the crowd into a wide, low hallway. The noise echoed in here, and it was atrociously hot with so many people pressed close together. There was a mildewy, wet-dog smell in the air. One side of the long hallway was lined in identical arches that all opened into one huge common room. Inside were hundreds, if not thousands of people already. Once she went in there, she wouldn’t get back out easily.
She tried to fight the flow, but there were too many people, and without being able to speak the language, she couldn’t insist on the importance of her task.
Outside, one of the white dragons roared again. The sound shook the very walls of the citadel. It went eerily quiet inside for a moment, then the shouts of fear started, louder than ever. One of the guards shouted over the crowd, his voice booming like thunder in the enclosed space. The crowd quieted, some looking sheepish while others scowled. But the noise didn’t rise again, remaining instead at a dull roar.
Along the opposite side of the corridor were closed wooden doors. As she passed one of them, a guard stepped out with a pile of neatly folded white cloth stacked high in his arms. She zig-zagged around a woman with a wailing baby and planted herself in the guard’s path. “Hanassa,” she said. “I need the hanassa.”
He frowned at her and tried to go around.
“No!” she said, sidestepping to match his movement. She sighed and pointed upward. “I need the hanassa,” she said. “To talk to Halmerah. Tarek sent me. I’m uh…the Vak who saved Ashariah.” She watched him for any sign of recognition. He seemed to follow the names at least. She took a breath. “He said ordahnar ira’nan arvedh. Uh…and oberzhan koth.”
“Oberzhan koth,” the guard murmured. He narrowed his eyes as if he was remembering something. “Na Halmerah sequa so-Vak thiv?”
“Um…yes?” She nodded.
His eyes widened suddenly in recognition as he grabbed her arm. Her heart thumped and she started to cry out, until she realized he was guiding her through the crowd and farther down the hall. Past the last entrance to the great hall was the huge spiraling staircase that formed the spine connecting the many levels of Adamantine Rise. He cupped his free hand to his mouth and called toward the guards on the stairs.
One of them jogged to her and gave a little bow. After listening to his fellow guard, he nodded, took Gabby’s arm and started guiding her up the stairs. The noise died away quickly as they rose above the first floor. He moved quickly ahead of her, bounding up the stairs two at a time. “Wait,” she panted. Her legs were heavy and exhausted after her sprint through the city.
She took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled heavily as she hurried after him. They hurried up three flights of stairs, her mind racing as quickly as her feet. Was Tarek all right? Was the whole city burning around him?
Shouts broke into her worrying. She looked up to see a trio wearing sapphire blue uniforms. They had fanned out to block the way up. A woman stood at the center of the formation, gesturing angrily to Gabby as she spat orders. Gabby’s guards turned and looked at her quizzically.
Dread washed over her like a hot cloud of steam. They were going to turn her away. One of the guards went to grab her arm. She held up her hand. “Wait! I need to see the queen!” she insisted. The guard took her arm, though he didn’t look particularly happy about it.
“Halmerah! Tarek said ordahnar ira’nan arvedh. Oberzhan koth.”
The female guard froze. The guard who had met her at the stairs said, “Halmerah sequa so-Vak thiv. Taure efa hanassa.”
The woman nodded in recognition. She stepped out of formation and reached for Gabby. Her hand was open, but Gabby just stared for a moment. The woman shook it, and Gabby finally accepted it. Her armored glove closed gently, and then she pulled Gabby toward her. “Takh n’adan!” When she took off running up the stairs, Gabby had to sprint to keep up.
The woman guided her up another flight of stairs. When they emerged into a tapestry-lined hallway, Gabby recognized the ornate woven art and the double doors at the end of the hall. The wooden doors to the library stood open with a single uniformed guard pacing with his spear.
The female guard shouted at im. “Ordahnar ira’nan arvedh! Oberzhan koth.” She shook Gabby’s arm roughly, though it seemed more from excitement than trying to scare her. “Taure efa hanassa! En fara Eszen!”
The guard didn’t respond, but he moved his spear and gestured for them to pass. The female guard yanked Gabby along, toward the office in the back of the library. Councilor Eszen stood inside, shaking his head rapidly as he flipped through a stack of notes. If the battle raging outside bothered him, he didn’t show it.
“Taure efa hanassa!” the guard shouted at him. Eszen’s eyes widened in shock, but he didn’t hesitate. Spinning on his heel, he lunged for a shelf and took down a lacquered box. His robe swirled around his legs as he rushed to Gabby and held out the open box to display the familiar purple stone wrapped in silver wire.
She seized the amulet and fumbled to fasten it around her neck. The dreamy, slightly pressurized feeling of its magic settled around her. “Do you understand me?”
Eszen nodded. “You said the Ironflight is not our enemy, but the Gate is lost. Is that what you meant to say?”
“Ordahnar ira’nan arvedh,” she murmured. “Is that what I said?”
“Yes,” he said. “How do you know?”
“Tarek said so.”
“He’s sure? How?”
“Tarek took me to the Gate, but something had happened there and he turned back. I don’t know, but he said it was important. He said I had to make sure the queen knew.”
“No,” Eszen murmured. “How can this be?”
“I don’t know, but he took off quick and in a hurry,” she said.
Eszen shook his head. “He was wise to send you here. We must tell Halmerah before she does something rash. War with an unknown enemy is bad enough; if we provoke a war with the Ironflight on top of it, we will surely be lost. We must go.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Battle was not the glorious dance spok
en of in the great stories. Maybe years later, the survivors could forget the horror of it; its edges softened by time and overcast by a haze of hard-won victory. But the reality of battle was blood and teeth and death, and Tarek had already had more than enough of all three.
With one wing in tatters, barely functional, he launched himself into the sky. He had to get back to the citadel, not for his own protection, but to prevent the queen from doing something that would make this battle look like an argument between squabbling children. They were certainly under attack, but his hunch had been correct; it was not by the Ironflight. And he knew Halmerah all too well. Once she heard the first reports, she would do something drastic, like kill Zayir to strike at the Ironflight Queen. And once she did that, there would be no chance at diplomacy. He had to hope that Gabrielle would make it to the citadel and deliver his message in time.
Tarek gritted his teeth and growled through the pain searing his injured wing. It was one of many injuries he’d already taken, but he’d survived worse. He caught the current and used it to propel himself upward. One of those awful cries came from the white dragons. The sound was bad enough, but it washed over him, making him feel as if tiny insects crawled under his scales and through his skin. Whatever they were, they were evil and unnatural.
The sound at his back made him fly even faster. He instinctively headed for one of the side terraces of the citadel for easy access, but the iron bars had been dropped at all of the windows to protect the inner levels of the fortress. It left him only the upper landing, which would be heavily guarded. He forced his wings to carry him higher, fighting against the fatigue until he cleared the edge of the stone. He tried to call out dath sequa, a greeting of honor between the Adamant Guard, but his lungs wouldn’t comply. As it was, his landing was more of a stumble and concession of defeat to gravity.