EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy (161 page)

Kaelyn dived and darted from wisp to wisp, trying to remain in cover. But it was no use. She was too close to the sea now. She could smell the salt on the wind. That salty air would lead her to Cadport and the boy who hid there.

It also dispersed the clouds, leaving her green scales to shimmer in the moonlight.

She looked over her shoulder.

She saw them there, the blue dragon and her three servants. A jet of fire blazed her way and Kaelyn ducked, barely dodging it. The heat blasted her. Claws reached out and grabbed her back leg, and Kaelyn yowled. She blew fire over her shoulder, hit the dragon who grabbed her, and tore herself free. She dived low. They followed.

A slim green dragon, she raced across wild grasslands, heading toward the sea. The grass bent under the flap of her wings, sending mice fleeing. The great blue dragon, a furnace of flame, and the three smaller black ones followed. Their fires blazed, and Kaelyn knew that she would die this night, and that with her the Resistance too would fall.

But no. Not yet. There! She saw it ahead—the hill and the cave. Hope bloomed inside Kaelyn like a flower from snow. She let out a cry, swooped, and flew toward the shelter.

Jets of fire blazed around her. Kaelyn darted like a bee, dodging them, until the cave loomed close. A blast of flame seared her tail, and she yowled but kept flying. With a roar, the green dragon shot toward the cave. It rose only as tall as a door, too small for a dragon to enter. Feet away from crashing against the hillside, Kaelyn released her magic.

Her wings and scales vanished. She shrank. She returned to human form. She rolled into the cave as a woman, sprang up, and ran into darkness.

A tunnel stretched before her.

Fire blasted behind.

Kaelyn raced around a bend in the tunnel and spun backward. The dragonfire crashed before her, hitting the stone walls and showering. Kaelyn took a few steps back. The heat bathed her, and she brushed sparks off her tunic and leggings. The flames kept roaring for a moment, then died.

Her sister’s shriek rose outside like a storm.

“Get in there, maggots! Bring her out alive, or by the Abyss, I’ll make a cloak from your skin. Go! Bring me the little trollop. I will break her.”

Her clothes smoldered, and her leg throbbed with pain, but Kaelyn drew an arrow. Her fingers shook so badly she could barely nock it.

The fires died. Outside the cave, Kaelyn heard the clank of scales become the clatter of armor. The four dragons had released their magic.

“Now we will fight as humans,” Kaelyn whispered. The tunnel walls closed in around her, too small for two to enter abreast. “One by one, I will slay you.”

She stood, waiting around the bend, fingers shaking and lungs burning with smoke.

Boots thumped into the cave. Steel hissed—swords being drawn from sheaths. Kaelyn tugged her bowstring back.

The first man emerged around the bend—one of Shari’s brutes. He towered above Kaelyn, a burly man clad in black steel. A red spiral blazed across his dark breastplate, and he clutched his dragonclaw sword. This one was a common soldier, no more than a thug.

Kaelyn’s arrow slammed into his breastplate, drove through the steel, and crashed into his chest.

The man fell, and Kaelyn reached into her quiver for another arrow. Before she could draw it, a second man raced around the bend.

This one too wore black armor, and a helm of steel bars shadowed his face. His sword swung, and Kaelyn leaped back. The blade whistled before her, missing her belly by an inch. She nocked her arrow and fired. The arrow scraped the man’s helmet, then slammed against the wall. The soldier cackled and swung his blade down.

Kaelyn scurried back and fell down hard. The man’s blade hit the floor between her legs, raising sparks. She drew her own sword, a silvery blade named Lemuria after the drowned isle of ancient gods. She leaped up and thrust her steel.

Lemuria scraped against the man’s breastplate, denting it. The brute grunted, spat, and swung his sword. He bore a longsword, thick and heavy, a blade for two hands; her sword was smaller and lighter, a single-handed weapon of thin steel. The blades clashed, spraying sparks, and Kaelyn growled.

No. I will not die here. The boy needs me. The Resistance needs me.
I will live.

She pulled her blade back, screamed, and fell to one knee. She drove Lemuria up. The blade crashed into the man’s armpit where his armor’s plates met.

Blood spurted. Kaelyn drove her blade deeper, shoving it through the man’s armpit and into his chest. Blood dripped down her arm. She pulled her blade free, and the man crashed down dead.

With a thin smile, her blade red, Kaelyn walked around the bend to see the third man there.

She charged toward him, their blades clanged, and Kaelyn swung Lemuria low. She swept the man’s legs out from under him. He fell to his knees. With a shout, she drove her blade between the bars of his visor. Blood seeped out. The man gurgled, then fell silent.

Kaelyn stood panting. Her head spun and every breath sawed at her lungs.

Languid clapping sounded ahead. Kaelyn looked up.

At the cave’s entrance, her sister stood in human form.

“Shari Cadigus,” Kaelyn whispered. “Princess of the empire. The Blue Bitch.” Her lips twisted. “My sister.”

It had been years since Kaelyn had seen Shari, but the woman hadn’t changed. Shari was twenty-eight years old, a full decade older than Kaelyn, and the two sisters looked nothing alike. While Kaelyn was short and slim, Shari was tall and muscular. While Kaelyn had golden hair and hazel eyes, Shari sported a mane of brown curls and dark, blazing eyes. While Kaelyn wore gray leggings and a green tunic, the garb of a woodswoman, Shari wore black armor, a crimson cape, and steel-tipped boots.

A rebel and a soldier,
Kaelyn thought.
Sisters. Enemies to the death.

Shari laughed, hands on her hips. “The Blue Bitch! So they still call me that, do they? A reference to my dragon scales, I imagine.” She tapped her cheek. “You know, a man once called me that to my face. His skin still hangs somewhere in my closet.”

Kaelyn raised her bloodied sword. “Shari, if you take a step closer, I will stick this in your neck.”

A crooked smile twisted the older woman’s lips. She raised an eyebrow and nodded. “So we will play. Like we did as children. I will enjoy that.”

With a long, luxurious hiss, Shari drew her longsword. The blade was black and wisps of flame danced around it. The pommel was shaped as a dragonclaw, the crossguard like wings. Shari’s leather glove creaked as she twisted her fingers around the hilt.

Fear flooded her Kaelyn. She remembered the “games” Shari had enjoyed playing when they were young. Kaelyn still bore the scars across her body—the scars of Shari’s blades, heated irons, and pincers, the toys of a sadistic youth who delighted in shedding her little sister’s blood.

But tonight I will be the one spilling her blood,
Kaelyn swore. She raised Lemuria before her. Her blade was smaller, her arms were shorter, and she wore no armor, but Kaelyn swore this to her stars.
Tonight I kill her.

Screaming, she ran down the cave toward Shari.

Her sister smirked, swung her sword, and the two blades crashed.

“Yes, scream for me!” Shari said and laughed. She pulled her blade back and thrust, and Kaelyn barely parried. “You always did scream as a child when I cut you. You sounded like a sow in heat; it was the best part.”

Kaelyn clenched her jaw and swung. Shari parried lazily, still smirking, her eyes mocking. Kaelyn tightened her lips.

Ignore her,
she told herself.
Ignore her taunts. Focus! Be one with the blade. Kill her.

She thrust her sword. Shari checked the blow.

“My my, you’ve grown feisty, little one.” Shari barked a laugh. “Do you remember that time I caught you trying to eat dinner before me? Do you remember how you screamed when I drove my fork down into your hand? So many tears you shed!”

Kaelyn snarled. “My hand still bears that scar. That hand now holds the blade that will kill you.”

With a grunt, she thrust Lemuria. Shari parried with a yawn.

“So far, not much luck there, beloved sister.” Shari smirked. “Are you growing tired already, little one? You look a little winded.”

Kaelyn swung her blade yet again, but Shari’s defenses seemed impenetrable.
Damn it.
Kaelyn was a competent swordswoman, but Shari’s skill with the blade dwarfed her own. Screaming now, Kaelyn swung again and again. The swords clanged, crashed against the cave walls, raised sparks, and kept flying. Shari wasn’t even attacking, just checking every blow.

She’s toying with me,
Kaelyn realized.

Fear flooded her. Shari blocked the exit from the cave; fleeing was not an option here, yet how could she kill her sister? Shari hadn’t even broken out in a sweat, and Kaelyn was so tired; her clothes clung to her, her throat burned, and she panted.

“My sweet little Kae,” Shari said, and mock concern filled her eyes. “You look ready to collapse. Don’t you realize, little sister? Did you never know? Of course your silly little... what do you call it? The Resistance? Of course this little
adventure
of yours was doomed to fail.” She blocked another thrust and pouted. “Poor Kaelyn. Father will continue to reign. And I will follow him. And you, sweet sister, will wish that I’d killed you tonight. You will weep and beg for death many years from now, as you still hang in my dungeon, as my whips break your skin again and again.”

Finally Shari attacked.

Her face changed, all the mockery vanishing, and rage flooded her eyes. She thrust her blade.

Kaelyn screamed as she parried. The blow was a terrible thing, a bolt of lightning, a striking asp. Kaelyn barely deflected it. The two blades crashed together, one long and black, the other slim and silvery.

Shari thrust again, and Kaelyn grunted and raised her sword. Her blade clashed against Shari’s, but could not stop its onslaught. Kaelyn ducked and Shari’s sword nicked her ear. Pain blazed and Shari laughed.

“Yes, bleed for me, harlot!” She swung her sword downward. “Bleed a little before I drag you home and make you beg.”

Kaelyn leaped sideways and hit the cave wall. Shari’s blade bit Kaelyn’s hip, tearing her legging and drawing blood.

The memories pounded through Kaelyn: memories of a frightened, weeping child in a dark palace, memories of an older sister tying her, cutting her, and laughing as she wept. Tears stung her eyes.

No. Never again. You will never more torment me, Shari. You will never hurt me or anyone else.

The scar on her hand blazed, and Kaelyn screamed and drove Lemuria down in an arc.

Shari raised her sword. Kaelyn’s blade slid down Shari’s, raining sparks, and slammed into the older woman’s pauldron.

Lemuria was perhaps slim and short, but it was northern steel forged in dragonfire, the blade of a princess. It cracked open Shari’s armor and blood sprayed.

Shari screamed and fell back a step. Her eyes widened and she clutched her wound. Shock filled her eyes; she had obviously never imagined that Kaelyn could hurt her.

Kaelyn stood panting before her. She raised her blade, nodded, and smiled.

“Let us keep dancing,” she said. “Or have you had enough?”

Now the duel truly began.

Now Shari fought with a snarl, all amusement gone from her brown eyes.

Now blades flew like striking lightning, and they danced, and the ringing of steel filled the cave, and Kaelyn drove her sword forward again and again, all the pain of childhood and war and wounds pulsing through her. In her rage, she struck down her sister’s sword, screamed hoarsely, and slammed Lemuria so hard into Shari’s breastplate the steel crumpled like tin.

Shari gasped. She stood frozen and her sword clattered to the ground. Her eyes widened and her mouth worked silently, but no breath found her.

Eyes narrowed, Kaelyn swung her blade, prepared to finish the job.

Still gasping, her breastplate caved in, Shari leaped back, and Kaelyn’s blade sliced the air. Before Kaelyn could attack again, her sister turned, stumbled outside the cave, and shifted back into a blue dragon. She fled into the night.

For an instant, Kaelyn could not move. She wanted to chase. She wanted to run outside the cave, shift into a dragon too, and blow fire at her retreating sister. Yet for that instant, such pain and weariness filled her that Kaelyn could only stand panting. Her blade felt so heavy; she could barely hold it, and blood dripped down her thigh and cheek.

Be strong now. Pain can wait.

Kaelyn sucked in her breath and raced outside the cave.

Shari was already distant, a squealing dragon coiling under the moon. Kaelyn did not know if she could even muster her magic now; she was too weak, too hurt. She ran, leaped into the air, and summoned the old magic with every last bit of will.

Pain exploded. Her magic coiled inside and she clung to it, refusing to release it. Scales flowed across her, and her wings beat, and Kaelyn flew into the night, a slim green dragon.

She could just make out Shari ahead under the stars; the blue dragon was flying north, no doubt to fetch reinforcement. When Kaelyn glanced over her shoulder, she saw the distant sea, the cliffs of Ralora, and the twinkling lights of Cadport, the city where the boy hid.