Dragons Rising (16 page)

But
that light kept blazing. The bricks across the cellar melted and
fell, and cracks raced across the ceiling. Cade had no chance to
escape up the staircase, not without the beam searing him. He had no
room to shift, not without the cellar walls crushing his dragon form.
He and Amity were trapped.

He
leaned down, grabbed a fallen bottle, and lobbed it up the staircase.
The light washed across the glass, melting it. Cade winced and pushed
himself back against the wall.

We're
trapped.

Even
as the light blasted into the cellar, the bonedrake's claws thrust
down the stairs, digging ruts into the stone. Cade leaped aside but
was too slow. One of the claws slashed his arm. He cried out and the
claws kept digging, widening the opening, thrusting into the cellar
and shattering bricks.

We're
going to die here.

Cade
pressed himself into the corner, weaponless, hopeless, as the claws
and light moved toward him.

 
 
FIDELITY

They
flew above the mountains, a charcoal dragon and a blue dragon, when
they saw the bonedrake burrowing among the ruins.

"Stars,"
Fidelity whispered. Her heart sank and icy fear spread through her
like frost through a hollowed oak.

For
the first time in her life, she could see clearly, even in dragon
form. Giant spectacles, each lens the size of a human head, rested
upon her scaly snout. Old Master Feris Lensmaker, a wizened old man
scuttling through his shop in New Confutatis, had made them for her.
Fidelity had claimed they were for her firedrake, a pet which just
happened to have the same level of nearsightedness. Whether Ferin had
believed her story or not, she could not say, but in any case, he had
made her these massive spectacles of metal and glass. Fidelity had
lingered in New Confutatis for a full three days, waiting for the
work to be completed, and she had paid with her last gold coins, but
stars--the wait and cost had been worth it. Finally, to fly and see
clearly! To see the mountains, the streams, the birds flying around
her, and . . .

And
our enemy,
she thought, staring at the bonedrake again.

"Father!"
she whispered urgently. The bonedrake had not yet seen them.

Korvin
nodded and flew closer toward her. Smoke plumed up from his nostrils.
Fidelity glided above him, lowered herself, and released her magic.
She slapped down onto the gray dragon's back, clad in her old armor
of the Horde, and scuttled forward to sit across his shoulders. She
wore her smaller spectacles now--another pair she had bought in the
city--and she carried a spear she had made herself from a branch.
Dragonfire wasn't much use against bonedrakes. To kill those beasts,
you needed a lance.

"A
little closer," Fidelity said.

Beneath
her, Korvin nodded and glided onward, descending toward the mountain
where the bonedrake was rummaging. The fear clutched Fidelity's heart
and squeezed. The bonedrake was digging for something in the ruins,
its back turned toward Fidelity and Korvin. She prayed that the
skeleton wasn't busy ripping apart the corpses of her fellow Vir
Requis.

Korvin
kept gliding down, silent in the wind--or at least, as silent as a
burly old dragon could be. Fidelity hefted her spear. With her sword,
she had sharpened its tip into a deadly point. She would get only one
shot to thrust it between the creature's ribs. If her aim was off, if
she missed the pulsing heart of light within the bonedrake, it would
burn her and her father before they had a chance to flee.

They
were only three hundred yards away, maybe even closer, when the
bonedrake noticed them.

The
great dragon skeleton spun around on the mountain, opened its jaws,
and screeched. The sound waves pounded against Fidelity. They were so
loud she nearly dropped her spear to cover her ears. Upon the
bonedrake's spine, its rider--a human skeleton in rusty patches of
armor--unhooked its jaw to scream too. Bony wings creaked, the skin
upon them rotted and tattered, and the creature rose to fly toward
Fidelity and Korvin. Light gathered in its chest, grew brighter, and
blasted forth in a beam.

"Father!"
Fidelity shouted.

Korvin
banked and the beam blazed above them, narrowly missing Fidelity's
head. Wind roared as Korvin swooped, claws raised.

"Spear
him!" Korvin cried.

Fidelity
clung to the dragon's back with her knees and raised her spear. She
narrowed her eyes, prepared to thrust it into that glowing ball of
light.

"Fly
across it!" Fidelity cried. "By its ribs--"

With
a
crack
, the bonedrake and dragon slammed together.

Fidelity
screamed and nearly fell from Korvin's back, nearly dropping her
spear. The bonedrake clawed at Korvin, raising sparks against the
gray scales. Korvin bucked and lashed his own claws, and Fidelity
screamed and nearly fell again. She scuttled forward, grabbed
Korvin's horn with one hand, and rose to her feet.

The
bonedrake opened its jaws below her, prepared to blast her with
light.

Fidelity
leaped off the dragon, arched through the air, and thrust her spear.

The
pointed stick flew toward the bonedrake's ribs and the heart within .
. . and glanced off bone. The stick tangled up between two ribs,
missing the heart of light, then fell down toward the mountain.

Fidelity
cursed, falling too. She summoned her magic and beat her dragon
wings.

"Fidelity!"
rose a cry. "Korvin!"

Fidelity
looked up and her eyes watered. "Cade!" she cried. "Amity!"

Both
seemed to have emerged from a hidden burrow below. Cade was soaring
in dragon form, and Amity rode on his back in a saddle, holding a
drawn saber.

The
bonedrake screeched, left Korvin, and turned toward the new threat.

With
a howl, Cade blasted forth dragonfire, blinding the bonedrake. The
skeletal beast reared in the air, blindly blasting its ray of light.

Cade
soared higher.

Still
in human form, Amity leaped off Cade's saddle and landed on the
bonedrake's spine. With a battle cry, Amity drove down her sword,
thrusting the blade between the creature's ribs and into its beaming
heart.

Light
exploded across the world, tossing Fidelity into a tailspin.

She
beat her wings, struggling to steady herself. When she was flying
straight again, she saw bones raining down to sink into the snowy
mountaintop. They were all that remained of the bonedrake and its
rider.

"Cade,"
Fidelity whispered, flying toward him. Tears filled her eyes. The
gold dragon flew toward her, and Fidelity couldn't stop herself. She
shifted into human form, vaulted across the sky, and clung to his
neck, embracing him and kissing his scaly snout.

The
four Vir Requis landed together on the mountain by the two remaining
columns of Draco Murus. They all returned to human forms.

"You"--Amity
jabbed Fidelity's shoulder--"should have chosen a closer meeting
place."

Fidelity
nodded and began to explain about this place being secret and safe,
but Cade pulled her into a crushing embrace, stifling her words, and
soon they were all hugging one another, laughing, shedding tears, and
talking together.

At
first they talked about Domi.

"You
haven't seen her?"

"I
remember her flying off the coast of Terra! She was definitely over
the water and alive, but then firedrakes . . ."

"She'll
make her way here. Domi is strong. She'll survive."

They
all spoke together, words intermingling--words of fear and hope.

Then
they talked about Roen.

When
Fidelity spoke of Roen's falling, the others fell silent. Cade and
Amity both lowered their heads, and their embraces became hesitant,
comforting, no longer joyous. And again Fidelity wept and missed him.

"He
gave his life to save me," Fidelity whispered, throat tight. "To
save the children of the Horde and to save the hope of Requiem."

"Fidelity,
I'm sorry," Cade said, holding her. "I'm so sorry."
His voice choked. "A light of Requiem had gone out."

They
entered the cellar then, and finally . . . finally Fidelity spoke of
the new fear in her heart, of the secret she had carried from New
Confutatis.

She
pulled out the page she had ripped from the book, and she spoke of
demons.

 
 
KORVIN

As
Fidelity spoke of what she had learned in
Mythic Creatures of the
Gray Age
, describing armor made of demon hide, Korvin kept
glancing at Amity.

The
tall, fiery warrior had seemed happy enough to see him at first. She
had nearly crushed him between her arms, kissing his stubbly cheek
and speaking of her love for him. Yet now Amity seemed strangely
awkward around him, strangely distant. As they all crowded inside the
cellar, she kept staring down at her lap, and sometimes her eyes
flicked over to Cade--for just an instant--before returning to
Fidelity. Cade seemed even more uncomfortable. The boy twisted his
fingers in his lap, and his eyes kept darting between the others,
lingering on Amity a little too long.

They're
hiding something,
Korvin thought.
If I didn't know any better,
I'd swear they've been in each other's trousers.

That
made him snicker. Amity was a dozen years older than Cade, and she
was a dozen times stronger and braver. To her, Cade was no man but a
mere boy.

Amity's
eyes flicked toward Korvin again, then back to Fidelity. The warrior
leaned toward the librarian. "So are you telling me, Fidelity,
that . . . we need to summon a demon? Then strip off its scales for
armor?"

"I
read about it in a book." Fidelity pulled out another parchment
page and unfolded it. "I . . . borrowed this one from a
different book, a book about . . ." Her voice dropped to a
whisper. " . . . about the occult. It describes how to summon
demons. In the old days, thousands of years ago, many demons walked
the earth. Whole armies of demons fought against Requiem. They're
creatures of darkness, of unholiness, the antithesis to the light of
the Spirit. They'll cancel out that godly light and protect us."

Amity
snorted and drew her sword. "
This
protects me. Didn't you
see how this blade crushed the bonedrake outside the mountain?"

Fidelity
nodded and pushed her new spectacles up her nose. "I saw four
dragons barely defeat a single bonedrake. And this is here in the
wilderness. If Domi returns, and if we're to attack the Cured Temple,
there will be hundreds, maybe thousands of bonedrakes there."

Korvin's
jaw tightened. His daughter's choice of word stabbed him:
if
Domi returned. Not
when
but
if
.

Cade
rose to his feet and began to pace the chamber. He cast a nervous
glance toward Korvin again, seemed sheepish, then looked away.
"Fidelity, I've read that part of Requiem's history in our old
books. Armies of demons nearly destroyed Requiem. They killed so many
dragons. And now you want to open a portal to the Abyss and let them
out?" He clutched his hair. "We'd be unleashing an evil
just as bad as--if not worse than--bonedrakes."

"Ah!"
Fidelity raised her finger. "See, we won't summon the truly
scary demons. Not the warlike, violent, terrible ones. In my book, I
found a description of a perfect candidate to summon from the Abyss.
The book calls them fireslugs."

Cade
groaned. "Fireslugs?"

She
nodded. "Yes! Do you remember Behemoth? Fireslugs are related to
it. Big, huge creatures. Huge! With lots of skin to make armor from.
But very slow and harmless. Basically massive scaly slug-like
creatures the size of whales. Stupid ones too. Barely any more sense
than a plant, in case you feel bad about killing and skinning one. No
worse than killing a regular slug." Fidelity's spectacles
slipped down, and she pushed them back up and gave her braid an
excited tug. "The book describes how to seek out a fireslug and
summon it up from the soil, sort of how rain summons up worms."

Cade
bit his lip. "This all sounds too dangerous."

Amity
pounded her fist into her palm. "This all sounds too
complicated. The best defense is offense. I say we attack! Now, as we
are. We'll crush every bonedrake in our way and burn the Temple."

"Not
burn it." Cade shook his head, suddenly sounding sad. "Not
with Eliana inside."

Everyone
turned toward Korvin as if waiting for him to speak. Korvin looked at
them, one after another. Cade, the boy who had become like a son to
him, eager for the fight, full of grand dreams of Requiem's return.
Fidelity, his eldest daughter, wise beyond her years, braver than
many of the greatest warriors. And Amity . . . Amity, the first woman
Korvin had dared to love since his wife had died, the woman who
seemed so distant now, so hesitant around him, her headstrong words
hiding pain and secrets he knew lurked beneath.

And
among these lights, the dearest people in Korvin's world, were empty
spaces. Julian of Old Hollow . . . fallen in fire over the capital.
Roen, wise and strong, a lover to Fidelity and a great warrior for
Requiem . . . fallen in the south. And Domi--his youngest child,
dearest Domi--missing, perhaps dead. If Domi did not return, Korvin
knew there would be a hole inside him he could never fill, a pain
that would never heal.

Finally
Korvin spoke.

"For
every firedrake we've seen this winter, we've seen several
bonedrakes. And they're growing more plentiful all the time. The
bones of many more firedrakes are buried across the Commonwealth, and
Beatrix will be reanimating them all to hunt us. They can smell out a
Vir Requis even when we're in human forms. We've all seen them do it.
They're deadlier than firedrakes too; they have no flesh to cut or
burn. The light they blast out is deadlier than dragonfire. We've
survived so far, but as the bonedrakes keep rising, more and more
every day, we won't survive much longer." Korvin looked at the
parchment page Fidelity held, describing the world of demons. "I
would do as Fidelity suggests. Let us summon a demon. Let us kill it.
Let us skin it. And let us build armor."