Authors: Cecelia Holland
Stencop was roaring, “Stand! Stand! Glory to the Empire! Kill!” He drew the saber from his belt and thrust it overhead, and from all the army came a single scream.
“Glory!”
The men by the kicker had winched the neck back double. Pacing up and down beside them, Stencop waved his sword. “Point-blank! Straight ahead!” Two soldiers hauled up the round bomb, glistening, while two others worked to aim it.
Jeon thought nothing: as they slid the bomb into the basket, he took one step forward and kicked the winch handle.
The winch spun. The kicker's neck snapped straight up, and the whole frame bucked, knocking the soldiers there flying. Stencop bellowed, furious. The screeching bomb flew off into the air, far out over the bay. The monster had reached the shallows, was charging in sheets of spray up toward the beach. It opened its jaws and blasted out a long flame, bright green even in the daylight. Jeon threw his arm up to shield his face. Around him, the soldiers were rushing up into a rank along the beach, their knives in their hands. Off in the middle of the bay, the last bomb exploded, harmless.
Closer, Stencop roared in Jeon's ears. Stencop's hand fisted in Jeon's hair, and Stencop shoved his sword into Jeon's face.
“So! So, all along! Die, thenâ Down thereâ” Stencop propelled Jeon forward toward the bay, ahead of all the screaming soldiers, toward the beast wading up through the surf. “You first!”
Jeon resisted, his arms out, his head tipped back; the dragon swung toward him. Even in his terror, he saw it was magnificent. Stencop's sword jabbed him in the back. “Deathâ Gloryâ” Jeon had nowhere to go but forward and he ran forward, out of Stencop's grip, up beneath the eyes of the dragon.
It crouched above him, massive and glistening. One eye fixed on him. He saw his face mirrored in the enormous curve. Then the dragon opened its jaws again and lunged, and its teeth fastened on Stencop.
Jeon backpedaled, away, back into the midst of the soldiers. Howling, they were rushing in to hack at the great scaled shoulders of the beast, and behind them all, safe up at the top of the beach, Oto galloped up and down, waving his sword over his head and bellowing, “Fight! Fight!” The dragon struck again, taking a mouthful of Imperials. Its neck was bleeding. Jeon worked his way steadily through the pack of men up the beach toward Oto. As Jeon passed, some of the soldiers were slacking off, looking around, their hands with their knives falling to their sides.
“Get the eyes!” Oto screamed. “Attack its eyes!”
The fiery blast licked out again, and the kicker burst into flame. With a sweep of its head the dragon knocked a dozen burning soldiers across the beach. The rest were shrinking back, their voices wailing now, not cheering. Oto spurred his horse up to rally them. “Glory, you fools, you cowards! Glory!” That brought him within reach and Jeon sprang.
He got Oto by one arm, and swung his weight against him, trying to drag him out of the saddle; the horse lurched. Oto wrenched it back on its hocks, brought his sword around, and struck Jeon across the head with the hilt. Dizzy, Jeon lost his grip and fell on his back. The tip of the sword sliced at his head, and above him Oto reined his horse around to trample him.
Jeon rolled to his knees, dodging the blade; his head was still muzzy, but he saw Oto before him. With all his weight Jeon lunged against the horse's shoulder. Flailing out with one hand, he caught and gripped a rein. Oto slashed down the blade and Jeon leapt back again, yanking on the rein, and that brought the horse's head around and the sword bit deep into its neck.
The horse reared up, screaming, spraying blood through the air. The sword sailed off. Jeon ran to pick it up. All around him the Imperials were running back up the beach, headed for the cliff, turning their backs on the dragon. The horse crumpled to its knees, Oto still in the saddle, there right before Jeon, and he drew the sword back and ran it into Oto's body.
Jeon had never killed anyone before. He was surprised at how easy it was. The soldiers had fled away, back into the shelter of the cliff, but there were bodies and bits of bodies all over the sand, and now one of them was Oto's.
The beach trembled under the footsteps of the dragon. Jeon stood where he was, unafraid. The great beast stalked past him, gave him a single gleaming look, and dragged itself down toward the bay. Its shoulders and sides were slashed, its long neck torn, there were long slick wounds like burns on its back, and even so it was splendid.
Then Jeon saw his sister running around the rim of beach that led from the Jawbone.
Her red hair flew. She was tattered and barefoot, her arm bruised, her face dirty. He shouted her name, and her head turned toward him, but she ran straight on, up toward where the dragon slouched, alone on the wide beach, bleeding from a hundred wounds.
The dragon swung its great head toward her; where its blood pooled on the sand it burned like coal fire. Tirza went right up before it, and it lowered its face to her. Jeon realized that she was speaking to it. He went up close enough to hear her voice, and then the beast answered her.
A shudder of despair went through Jeon. He stood watching his sister and the creature she had conjured from the sea, and wondered what he could do now.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Tirza said, “You came.”
The dragon said, “I have searched for you since you left. I meant to devour you, because you abandoned me. But you saved me. If you had not warned me I would have died. And I remember the stories.”
“I have more stories,” she said. “And you are hurt. Let me help you.”
“I am grievous hurt. I don't think you can help me.” He was turning back toward the sea, his gaze leaving her. She put her arms out to him.
“Take me with you.”
He turned his enormous eyes on her again. “I do not know where these wounds and the sea will take me.”
“Tirza,” her brother said.
She twisted her head toward him; he had come down close behind her. He stood there, his arms at his sides and his eyes blazing.
“Tirza, see? I've won. Oto is dead. Stencop is dead. I've avenged everybody. I have taken Castle Ocean back.” He put out his hand, and his fingers closed on her wrist. His hand was slick with blood. He said, “I have done everything for your sake.”
She shook her head. If this was even true it made no difference. Yet her heart quaked, and his bloody hand held her fast.
His gaze burnt into her. He said, “Keep faith with me, Tirza.”
That broke the spell, and she laughed. “That's a curse, Jeon. Not a blessing.” He did not understand what she said. He would never understand her. But she had defied one curse and she could defy another. She drew her wrist out of his grip and turned back to the dragon.
“I want to go with you, whatever happens.”
He lowered his head; his tongue licked over her feet. She climbed onto his back, up onto his shoulder. On the beach, Jeon stood alone, watching her, above him Castle Ocean like a broken hand against the sky, and then the dragon carried her into the sea.
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C
ECELIA
H
OLLAND
is widely acknowledged as one of the finest historical novelists of our time. She is the author of more than thirty novels, including
The Angel and the Sword
and
The Kings in Winter.
Holland lives in Humboldt County, in Northern California, where she teaches creative writing. You can sign up for email updates
here
.
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B
OOKS BY
C
ECELIA
H
OLLAND
The Angel and the Sword
Lily Nevada
An Ordinary Woman
Railroad Schemes
Valley of the Kings
Jerusalem
Pacific Street
The Bear Flag
The Lords of Vaumartin
Pillar of the Sky
The Belt of Gold
The Sea Beggars
Home Ground
City of God
Two Ravens
Floating Worlds
Great Maria
The Death of Attila
The Earl
Antichrist
Until the Sun Falls
The Kings in Winter
Rakóssy
The Firedrake
Â
FOR CHILDREN
The King's Road
Ghost on the Steppe
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Contents
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
DRAGON HEART
Copyright © 2015 by Cecelia Holland
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Peter Lutjen
Cover art by Lucas Graciano
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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New York, NY 10010
Tor
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is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to [email protected].
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-0-7653-3794-8 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4668-3649-5 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781466836495
First Edition: September 2015