City of Ice (16 page)

See, see!
the voice cried.
She was just waiting for this excuse to leave you helpless.

“Those are mine!” he said angrily, and began to pound and kick at her, even though the blows against her armored hide hurt him more than her.

Even Koko seemed startled at Leech's fury. “Take it easy, buddy.”

All Leech could think about was getting back the disks. “Why do you keep holding me back?” he demanded. “Wouldn't it make your life easier if someone else killed me?” He snatched the disks from Bayang's startled claws.

Bayang quivered with hurt and fury. “Haven't I proved I've changed?”

Scirye put a hand on Leech. “Yes, you shouldn't talk to her like that. Remember, she's turned her back on her whole clan for you.”

Kles was squirming out of Scirye's coat. “Maybe she's a little overprotective, but that's guilt making her go too much in the other direction.”

“And in this case, I think Bayang's right,” Koko said. “You're not bulletproof.”

Leech pouted. “That's right, gang up on me. Take the side of the big green lizard! She wants me helpless so she can kill me anytime she wants.”

Bayang sucked in the cold air sharply with a hiss like a steam pipe leaking. “I gave you my word. I'd no more lie than…than Scirye.”

Leech cringed, wrapping his arms around his belly as if in pain. He could feel the hatred and anger roiling around in him like a pot of boiling water about to overflow. But this time he wasn't sure if the words had come from the voice or from himself. What was wrong with him?

Scirye tried to play the peacemaker. “This is no time to fight with one another. Maybe you shouldn't have tried to take the magic away from him,” she said, inclining her head to the dragon and then to Leech. “And maybe you shouldn't have doubted Bayang.”

Bayang said stiffly, “Perhaps not.”

“Sorry,” Leech mumbled.

Despite his apology, the hatchling had made it clear enough that they would never really be friends. There were too many wrongs between them and she'd been a fool to think otherwise. Well, she would safeguard him whether he trusted her or not.

“It seems, after all, that we can't erase the past as easily as a chalk drawing,” Bayang said coldly.

As she unfurled her wings, she was sure he was glowering at her still. She felt sad at that, but she refused to feel sorry for herself.
It's like any other wound. Ignore it and it will heal eventually.

“Yashe!” she shouted, but there was as much despair as defiance in her cry. And then she swooped down between the riflemen and the hatchlings.

Great. Let those guys kill her for you,
the voice exulted smugly.

Shut up,
Leech said.

He'd been so ashamed of the ugly insults that had tumbled out of his mouth earlier, and he was shocked by the even uglier things that he had wanted to add. But this selfish thought was even worse.

No, I won't shut up,
the voice said.
You're going to get us killed.

Leech fought to shove the voice back into the darkness inside his mind, concentrating inside on all the sacrifices that the dragon had made. He should be grateful, not angry with her. All right. She might be overbearing at times, but she was also the bravest and most reliable companion.

And what if Kles was right? Maybe she'd been so overprotective not as part of some conniving scheme but because she was trying to make up for past crimes.

He wasn't without blame either—at least not that first Lee No Cha—so who was he to judge her? He wanted to ask her if she'd try to be his friend again, but before he could speak the dragon had plunged straight into the fire, more concerned with their safety than hers.

Most of the bullets ricocheted off the scaly armor of Bayang's chest, but there was suddenly a much louder report.

The dragon jerked from the projectile's impact like a marionette being yanked backward. And then spun downward.

Sitting on Scirye's shoulder, Kles jabbed a claw downward. “They've got an anti-tank rifle. If it can punch a hole through a tank, it can do the same to a dragon.”

Leech looked down to see a much larger rifle with its bipod resting on an ice boulder for better elevation. The freebooter was sliding to the side in the snow, shifting the angle of the heavy rifle as he tried to track the plummeting dragon.

Bayang crashed into the clearing, sending up sheets of snow as she plowed forward, bowling over the freebooters, including the officer, as if they were mere pins. Blood was spurting from one leathery wing.

She lay stunned on the ground as the anti-tank man took his time trying to find a vital spot.

Leech wouldn't be able to live with himself if the last words she heard from him were those ugly ones. She'd looked so hurt and angry.

Leech pulled the flying disks from his armband, and he frantically began the conversion spell even as Roxanna fired. The force of the gases released from the shot lifted her rifle upward as the shot hit the anti-tank man with such force that it knocked him onto his side.

“Throw your weapons away and lie down with your arms in front of you,” Roxanna commanded. When they didn't comply immediately, she fired again, sending the snow spraying upward inches from the freebooters' officer. Reluctantly, he tossed his revolver into the snow and ordered his men to do the same. When his troops had tossed their guns aside, Roxanna ordered them to lie down on their stomachs. And they reluctantly obeyed as the Ajumaq scampered off.

Leech could see the blood spreading across the unconscious dragon's wing. He had only one thought in his head and that was to help her. The anger, the hatred, the voice, were gone. All he could think of was that she needed him. “We've got to stop Bayang's bleeding.”

“Upach, the medical kit,” Roxanna ordered.

The ifrit made her way quickly to the discarded cargo, feeling among the boxes and baskets until she found the right one. Opening the lid of the basket, she took out a small leather satchel. “Here. There are bandages and compresses.”

She held it out, letting Leech fly over to her to get it.

“Kles, help him,” Scirye said, and the griffin slipped out of her coat and fluttered into the air.

In his anxiety, the boy hadn't waited for the griffin but was already darting toward the dragon. When Leech got close, he was relieved to see that it looked worse from a distance than up close. The wound itself was small, but he saw blood bubbling up from it.

One great eyelid went up. “You came,” the dragon grunted in surprise. “Why?”

“To save you, and you're welcome,” Leech said, opening the satchel.

“Ah, well, yes, thank you,” the dragon said awkwardly, “but I repeat, ‘Why?'”

Leech knew all about surviving on the mean streets of San Francisco, but he didn't know how to tell her how scared he had been when she'd gotten shot. So, instead, he grinned insolently.

“For once, I get to boss you around.”

“Humph, I think you're enjoying this far too much.” Bayang sniffed, but she fell silent.

By now, he had seen injured people and blood, but it sickened him to see it was a friend who was suffering. He tried to keep his hands from shaking as the griffin directed him in cleaning out the wound.

He hesitated, though, when Kles told him to use some medical thread and a needle to stitch up the tear. “But it'll hurt.”

“It hurts anyway,” Bayang said. “Go on.”

Leech threaded the needle but had to take several deep breaths to steady his hands. Bayang sucked in her breath when the needle pierced her, and the boy stopped. He hated to cause pain to the dragon.

“Get it over with,” the dragon insisted.

The leather hide resisted the needle, which made the process even slower, but the dragon endured it uncomplaining. Both of them, though, seemed relieved when Leech was able to tie off the stitches.

He was so busy concentrating on the task at hand that he was only vaguely aware of more shots followed by panicked yelps. It was only when he had applied a bandage that he looked up. Four of the Ajumaq lay still in the snow while the others had run away through a gap in the cliff walls, frightened of Roxanna's deadly rifle.

“Upach, tie up the prisoners,” Roxanna ordered her servant.

As the ifrit got a coil of rope from their supplies, Leech felt something tickle his wrist. When he peeked at the ribbon under his glove, he saw it was wriggling and pulsing. Guessing that it wanted to see, he rose into the air and exposed his wrist as he spiraled upward. “I bet you want to look at more than my sleeve and my glove.”

Suddenly the ifrit's clothes fell in a pile while a cloud of tan-colored smoke rose from them. Leech wondered if the clothing had given Upach a shape as well as kept her warm.

Upach flowed off the rim and poured herself down the side, her misty tentacle having no trouble holding the rope. Without any direction from Roxanna, she flew over the prone humans—perhaps finding them by their breathing. She quickly began to tie them up.

All this time, the bear stood erect, eyes moving from the ifrit to the boy, the dragon, and the griffin.

Koko took the precaution of shouting to the bear, “Don't eat the kid. He'll taste lousy. If you got to eat someone, start with the dragon.”

Before the astonished Leech could tell his friend to shut up, part of the southern ice wall near him exploded into softball-size fragments.

“Fasolt! Fasolt!” A frost giant stood there in the ruins of snow and ice, brandishing a hammer with a head the size of Leech's own skull.

With a deafening roar, the polar bear pivoted and charged.

Repeating his war cry, the frost giant moved forward to meet the bear, but he could only plod through the snow that covered the frozen sea while the bear's wide paws let him move easily and swiftly over the surface.

The frost giant brought his hammer down in a crushing stroke, but he was nearly a yard taller than the bear and the bear was able to duck under the mighty swing. Lifting a paw, the bear raked the giant's stomach. The claws gashed through the giant's fur coat but screeched over the iron armor beneath it.

With a shout, the frost giant swung his massive hammer but only managed to clip the bear, who was ducking. Even that glancing blow was enough to drop the bear to his knees, and the giant readied himself for a deadly backhanded swing.

Kles's paw tapped Leech's arm. There was a strange wild glint in the griffin's eye; his small chest was heaving, a hollow growl reverberating in his beak. The boy would have sworn that every fur and every hair was bristling. “Is that other ring just for decoration, or can you really use it?” Kles demanded.

Leech felt a wild, giddy fire race through his blood. “You'll see.” Pulling the other armband from his wrist, he spat on it and said, “Change.” Then he made the fiery sign in the air.

Suddenly the dense iron ring expanded, becoming a ring some twenty inches in diameter, thin as paper, stronger than steel, and yet so light that he was hardly aware that he was holding it. It seemed made for him, just like the flight disks. The ring hummed when he waved it in the air as if it were alive and excited.

Bayang had taught him a little about how to handle it while they had been traveling on the wing. Unfortunately, the dragon had emphasized defensive rather than offensive tactics. Still, he thought he could use it like a club if he had to.

Suddenly he heard the voice from the shadows in his mind, but this time it was a shout, not a whisper:
Yes, yes, we are free in the sky again! No one can stop us.

Leech lurched involuntarily when he heard a scream loud enough for one of the giant falcons. Before he could scan the sky, the griffin swooped past him shrieking as if he'd gone mad. And Leech dove, wanting to shout as well, so he copied Scirye's war cry as the dragon had done. “Yashe! Yashe!” he hollered as he plunged toward the ground.

In his excitement, he was barely aware of Roxanna yelling at them in exasperation. “You're blocking my shot.”

Screeching “Tarkär!” Kles slashed at the giant's face with his claws and beak and struck with his wings. With a bellow, the giant began waving his hammer back and forth frantically, trying to drive the feathery tornado away.

“No, Kles,” Scirye shouted from the cliff top. “You can't fight him by yourself!”

The griffin was paying no heed to his mistress, for he'd gone berserk, shouting his war cry over and over as he attacked,

The ring vibrated in Leech's fingers, the energy surging up through his arm as he sped toward the giant's wide back.

He's got a helmet, so aim for the side of the head,
the voice urged.
Now strike! Strike!

Leech swung his ring against the thick tangle of hair at the giant's right temple. The impact jarred Leech's arm, but the giant's knees buckled and then, like a majestic redwood, he toppled forward.

Leech was shocked when the frost giant fell, suddenly feeling like a spectator in his own body. The flying disks sent vibrations through his legs so that they felt like charged batteries and the ring hummed a joyful battle chant. He was so alive, so strong. Nothing could stand in his way. Ahead of him was the injured Bayang, still lying before him.

Yes,
the inner voice exulted.
I was born to win. Now take care of the dragon and then the bear.

Leech was bewildered by the anger that thrummed through those savage words. “No!” he said in a fierce whisper, and forced his body to tilt so that he banked away instead toward the growling bear behind him.

Right. Right. First take on the enemy still standing. Then do the dragon,
the voice said.

Leech slapped his free hand against his skull.
Shut up,
he told the voice.

The voice chuckled from somewhere in the shadows in Leech's brain.
I can't…because I'm you.

“Don't fight the bear by yourself! Come back here,” Bayang was calling.

Leech barely heard the dragon because he was wondering just what the voice had meant when it had said it was him.

“Kles, Kles, stop Leech,” Scirye shouted frantically.

The griffin paid his mistress no more attention than Leech did to Bayang. Leech glanced at the griffin and saw the wild fire was still in his eyes and his fur and feathers still bristled.
He's gone mad,
Leech thought to himself.
I wonder if I look like that?

Suddenly Leech heard a hissing sound and then a dusky cloud rose up from underneath the griffin, enveloping him and shooting misty tentacles out toward Leech. He started to bank away but could not avoid them. They were cool to the touch but gritty rather than moist the way a cloud in the sky would have been. It was like having cold water flung in his face.

“You've pushed your luck far enough,” Upach said in a thin, hollow voice.

He glimpsed Upach's eyes, nostrils, and mouth as they shifted constantly upon the restless surface of the cloud.

Leech forced his mouth and tongue to move. “Y-yes,” he said. He became aware of something squeezing his wrist. Through a narrow gap between his glove and sleeve he could see the Dancer flashing as it constricted. Had he scared it?

He stroked it soothingly. “It's all right,” he assured, and felt it relax.

“What happened to you?” Bayang called.

“Young warriors get reckless,” Upach explained for him. “They think they'll live forever.”

“Yes, I suppose it might be the heat of battle,” Bayang said.

The griffin nodded as he floated inside of her. “How…how unseemly of me.”

“Then let's withdraw,” she said, tugging them backward. All three of them were careful to keep their faces toward the bear, who was studying them curiously.

“Sometimes the battle rage takes me over,” Kles said shakily. “Thank you for bringing me out of it, Upach. I'm glad you move so fast.”

“This is nothing,” the ifrit said. “The cold makes my body stiff, so it slows down. But on sand, ah, I move like the wind.”

Leech wanted to ask if the battle rage wanted to make you kill even your friends but was too ashamed to. He didn't think he would ever work up enough courage to talk to the griffin about it.