Dragons Lost (15 page)

The dragons and
their griffin companions began to descend, moving closer to the camp. A shimmer
of light caught Cade's eye, and he gasped.

"Fidelity,
look!" he said. "Can you see them?"

She stared
down, squinting. "What? I can only see smudges."

"They're . . .
dragons. I think. I'm not sure. They're not like us."

Several long,
reptilian creatures were moving about the camp, hovering several feet above the
ground. They had no wings, and Cade couldn't figure out how they floated. They
were longer than dragons, he saw—probably a good hundred feet along—but narrow.
Scales covered them, shimmering as if made from precious metals. They reminded
Cade of snakes swimming upon water. Their eyes were like crystal orbs, and beards
hung from their chins.

When Cade
described them to Fidelity—she could see no more than the shimmer of their
scales—she gasped. "Those are salvanae!" she said. "Mythical true dragons from
the west! Unlike Vir Requis, they have no human forms."

"Like
firedrakes?" Cade asked.

She shook her
head, scattering the smoke that rose from her mouth. "No. Firedrakes used to
have human forms; they were Vir Requis once . . . before the Temple broke them.
Salvanae are very ancient beings, very wise. In the old days, we Vir Requis
called them true dragons. But my books said they all died out centuries ago."

"So much for
your books," Cade said. "Griffins and sylvanis—"

"Salvanae," she
corrected him.

"—and salvanae.
In one day." He gave her a crooked grin. "Maybe flying out into the real world
will teach you more than any of those dusty old books."

Korvin flew
between them and sneered at Cade. "Dusty old books we cherished. Books that we
lost because of you. Now silence, boy."

Belas and his
griffins dived down to a clearing in the camp—a circle of earth between many
huts. The three Vir Requis glided down with them, and they all landed, claws
and talons raising clouds of dust. The griffin riders dismounted and their
mounts flew off, and the Vir Requis released their magic, returning to human
form.

Cade stared
around him with wide eyes.

"I'm standing
right in the Horde," he whispered in awe.

Countless
people moved all around him. Soldiers in bronze breastplates, the metal forged
to mimic their muscles, dueled in the dirt, swords clanging. Other men worked
at skinning wild boars, slicing up the meat, and tanning the leather. A few
blacksmiths worked in the open, hammering on spearheads and swords. Children
scampered underfoot, laughing. A burly giant of a man lumbered by, covered in
hair, drinking from a tankard and grumbling; Cade barely reached the man's
chest. Scales flashed as a salvana coiled by, hovering several feet
aboveground. Cade had to leap back to avoid the true dragon knocking him down.
The wooden huts rose all around, and archers stood on the stone fortress a few
hundred yards away. Farther back, surrounding the camp like walls, the forest
swayed, rich with the song of birds, the call of monkeys, and the rustling of
leaves.

"I never
imagined so many strange people," Cade whispered. "The Horde is massive."

Belas scratched his
beard and barked a laugh. "This is only an outpost, son. The true Horde in the
south is hundreds of times the size. We are but guardians of the sea,
protectors of—"

A shout rose behind
them, interrupting him.

"Stars damn it, you
maggoty sack of puke! You owe me five conches. Five! I beat you fair and
square, and if you don't pay up, I'm going to shove my hand down your throat,
grab your bollocks, and tug them out of your mouth."

Cade turned around, and
his eyes widened so much he thought they might pop out.

A woman stood a few
yards away, clutching the collar of a young, terrified-looking man. She shook
him wildly as she shouted. She seemed to be about a dozen years older than
Cade, and a couple of inches taller too. She wore brown trousers, tall black
boots, and a tan vest. Her yellow hair was short—just long enough to fall over
her ears—and damp with sweat. Her brown eyes flashed as she shook the man.

"You cheated, Amity!"
said the man in her grip, struggling to shake her off. "Nobody got such luck
with dice, and—"

"Pay now," Amity said, "or
I'll dump your flea-ridden corpse into the sea. I—"

"Amity!" Belas turned
toward her, his face reddening. "Leave him alone."

The tall, golden-haired
woman spun toward Belas, still holding the young man's collar. "Belas! Your son
here lost a game of dice, and if the damn goat-shagger doesn't pay, I—"

"Did you cheat?" Belas
demanded.

Amity's cheeks flushed.
She loosened her grip on the young man. "Well, of course I did." She spat. "Everyone
cheats at dice, and—"

"Then let him go,"
Belas said, "and get your arse over here. We got guests."

Amity groaned, shoved
the young man away, and gave his backside a swift kick as he fled the scene.
She spat again and wiped her hands against her pants.

"I don't care about no
guests." She glared at Belas. "And if you talk about my arse again, I'm going
to chop off your manhood and wear it around my neck on a chain."

Cade watched all this
with wide eyes. He leaned toward Fidelity—the young librarian was blushing—and
whispered into her ear, "Blimey, I love the way they talk here. I'd take the
Horde over prim priests and paladins any day."

Amity stomped toward
them, grumbling under her breath, and swiped back locks of damp hair from her
forehead. She stared at Korvin, then at Fidelity, and finally at Cade. She let
her gaze linger on him, and a crooked smile touched her lips.

"What's a matter, kid?"
she said. "Your jaw's hanging almost down to your bollocks."

Cade gulped and quickly
closed his mouth. He tried to feign nonchalance. "I'm not used to seeing . . ."
Women as tall and foul-mouthed? Women as dangerously and intoxicatingly
gorgeous? Women who made his blood boil? ". . . griffins," he finished lamely.

Belas stepped forward,
blessedly interrupting his embarrassment. "Amity," the bearded captain said, "we
found the three flying over the sea toward us. Fleeing the firedrakes. Yes,
flying. They were dragons when we found them." He lowered his voice. "Vir
Requis."

Amity whipped her head
toward him, then back to Korvin, Cade, and Fidelity.

"Bollocks," she said
and spat, but Cade noticed that her breath had quickened, that her fingers were
trembling.

Belas snorted. "If you
hadn't been beating the shite out of my boy, you'd have seen them fly in." He
turned toward the three. "A little display?"

Korvin, who had
remained silent until now, let out a grumble. "We're not performing monkeys.
Belas, I thank you for leading us here. Now if you will shelter us, we. . ."

The gruff man's voice
died.

Cade's jaw hung loose
once more.

Even Fidelity gasped,
covered her mouth, and had to rub her spectacles on her shirt and stare again.

Standing before them,
Amity shifted into a red dragon.

"So," the dragon said,
fire crackling inside her mouth, "you three want to prove to me that I'm not
alone in the world?"

"Another Vir Requis,"
Fidelity whispered, tears in her eyes.

Cade shifted first, a
little embarrassed to find himself shorter than Amity even in dragon form.
Korvin and Fidelity followed. The dragons stood together in the camp, staring
at one another silently.

It was Cade who broke
the silence, speaking the only word he could, the only word that mattered.

"Requiem."

Amity grinned toothily
and slapped him with her tail. "You got it, kid."

 
 
DOMI

Domi had never been more exhausted
in her life. As she flew westward across the sea, heading back toward the Commonwealth,
she thought she would lose her magic, plunge down into the water, and drown
with Mercy on her back.

Perhaps I should
fall and take her down with me,
she thought.

All around them,
firedrakes were flying back home, panting, weary, dipping in the sky and rising
only as their paladins spurred them onward. She spotted Lord Gemini, Mercy's
younger brother, riding a burly copper firedrake called Felesar. The paladin
whipped the firedrake again and again as it huffed.

One firedrake
finally fell and crashed into the sea, dead with exhaustion. Another firedrake
had to dive, lift the floundering paladin, and bear two men on its back. Domi
envied the fallen firedrake. She too wanted to lie under the sea, to let the
pain end.

Mercy kept shouting on
her back, digging her spurs again and again into Domi's tenderspots. When Domi
could not fly faster, the paladin swung her lightning lash, and pain exploded
across Domi, urging her onward. The paladin was wrathful, perhaps more than she'd
ever been.

"You let them escape,
you miserable little beast," Mercy shouted, digging and twisting her spurs in
Domi's flesh. "We had the weredragons surrounded at the library, and you let
them go."

The whip hit Domi
again, crackling with lightning, and she yowled.

Domi closed her eyes as
she flew, bringing back the memory. Flying over the library with the other
firedrakes, she had been so afraid. She had been sure that Mercy would slay her
father, her sister, and Cade. The foolish boy had been spotted. He had left the
corpses of paladins on his way to the city. He had spoken to paladins in the
city itself, leaving a trail Mercy had easily followed . . . riding Domi all
the while.

I had to knock the
other firedrakes aside,
Domi thought.
I had to. I had to let them
escape.

She wondered if Mercy
knew that Domi had done so on purpose, if she suspected that Domi was not simply
a clumsy firedrake, a mindless reptile.

"You stupid, sniveling
lizard!" Mercy shouted, whipping her again.

Good. Let her think
I'm stupid, nothing but a stupid firedrake. May she never learn the truth . . .
that I let my own family escape on purpose. That I too am Vir Requis. That I
hide a human soul deep under my scales.

Domi lowered her head.
What had her father and sister thought? Had they realized that she had tried to
protect them, or did they just see her as a traitor, the Vir Requis who served
the paladins who hunt her very people?

"Faster!" Mercy cried,
digging her spurs again, and Domi flew on.

Domi did not think she
could make it to the shore alive, yet finally the firedrakes saw the coast of
the Commonwealth again. The towers and steeples of Sanctus rose ahead. With
their last breaths, the firedrakes made for the city. They flew over the
warships in the port, nearly crashing into their masts, and finally made it
past the piers to the boardwalk. Here the firedrakes crashed down onto the
cobblestones—not far from the ruined library—and collapsed.

Mercy leaped off the
saddle, turned toward the port, and began shouting orders.

"Ships! All warships—ready
to sail!"

Sailors ran forth, and
Mercy shouted, and rowboats began approaching from the warships. As the
boardwalk bustled, Domi and the other firedrakes lay sprawled across the
cobblestones, breathing raggedly. Domi was so weary it took all her effort to
cling to her dragon magic; she felt close to losing that magic to her
exhaustion, returning to human form here in the paladins' sight.

Just cling on a
little longer,
she told herself.
Just breathe the next few breaths.

She lay on the
searing-hot cobblestones, the sun baking her, watching the preparations. Troops
from the city fortress came marching onto the boardwalk; there they entered
rowboats and oared toward several warships that anchored in the port. The ships
were massive brigantines, large enough to hold hundreds of men each. Mercy
chose a group of firedrakes—Domi breathed out in relief when she wasn't chosen—to
fly over and land on the ships' decks.

"We will find the
weredragons, and we will butcher them!" Mercy was shouting from the boardwalk. "We
will skin them alive and make trophies of their skulls!"

As soldiers cheered,
rowing toward the brigantines, Domi closed her eyes.

I can't do this
anymore,
she thought.
I can't keep serving them.

If she escaped, Domi
knew that she would not live long. Wild firedrakes rarely lived for more than a
year or two; the Cured Temple mercilessly hunted and butchered any firedrakes
who escaped captivity. And Domi did not even want to consider hiding as a
human; what kind of life was that, living as a weak girl, crushed under the Temple's
heel? A despair began to grow in her. Perhaps she could escape overseas, join
the Horde, find a home there—though stories whispered that the Horde was even
more ruthless than the Temple, that its warriors drank the blood of children
and tortured women for sport. Perhaps there was no home for Domi in the world
anymore. Perhaps all she could do was rise as a dragon, blow her fire, and burn
as many of these paladins and soldiers as she could before they shot her down.

A hand touched her
snout, and a voice spoke softly. "Dearest Pyre . . . you're exhausted."

Domi opened her eyes to
see Gemini staring at her. The firedrake he had ridden during the chase, old
Felesar, now stood upon the deck of a warship, prepared to sail out east on a
new hunt. It looked like Gemini was staying behind this time.

Domi grunted and
blasted out a puff of smoke.

"Little Pyre." Gemini
stroked her. "I rode Felesar over the sea, but as I rode him, I thought of you.
I pretended that I was the one straddling you, digging my spurs into your
tenderspots, whipping you onward with my lash. You are the finest of
firedrakes." He knelt, stared into her eyes, and planted a kiss upon her snout.
"I love you, my Pyre."