EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy (194 page)

They lost their magic.

They tumbled, two men in cracked armor, and crashed into the forest below.

Rune looked up, panting.

Shari still flew there, a hundred yards above, her blue wings wider than his own. She laughed, mocking him. Her eyes burned. Bits of flesh dangled from her maw, the remnants of men she’d killed.

“Relesar!” she called down to him. “Tell me, has my sister spread her legs for you yet? How much did you pay her? Or was it the other way around?”

Rune soared, roaring fire.

Laughing, Shari swerved and dodged his flames. The blue dragon snapped her teeth at him, forcing him back.

“Who was the man who adopted you again?” Shari asked, eyes shining with amusement. “Wil Brewer, was it not? Was he close to you? I enjoyed burning his flesh.”

Rune snarled. “Now
you
will burn, Shari.”

He blew his flames.

Shari laughed, flapped her wings, and rose higher. She spewed her own fire.

The inferno crashed against Rune.

He screamed.

He fell.

His scales cracked in the heat, Shari laughed above, and Rune tumbled. He righted himself just in time to see Shari swoop. He raised his claws but was too slow. She crashed atop him, her fangs bit his neck, and his blood spilled.

“Yes, scream, whore!” Shari said and laughed. “Your father screamed the same way when we killed him.”

He fell through the sky. More of her fire rained upon him.

I can’t win this,
he thought in a haze.
I was wrong, Kaelyn. I was wrong. I should have listened to you. I’ve led us to death.

He blinked, gazed through the fire, and saw Shari charge toward him. No more amusement filled her eyes. She opened her maw wide, and her claws lashed.

“And now, Rune,” she said, “it’s time to die.”

No,
Rune thought.
No.
He could not die today. He could not let Kaelyn fall here, and Valien, and all the others. He had to save them, and he had to save Tilla.

Her flames crashed down.

Rune beat his wings, drove forward, and dodged the blaze. He soared. He flew past her. He spun and swooped, the sun at his back, and rained fire.

The blaze crashed against Shari and she screamed. Welts rose across her wings.

Rune slammed into her, lashed his claws, and tore through her wing. It ripped like leather under a blade. Air whistled through it.

Shari shrieked. She bucked. She lashed her tail, and its spikes drove into Rune, but he ignored the pain. He kept tearing at her wing, widening the rent.

“You will die!” Shari screamed and blew flame over her shoulder.

Rune shut his eyes. The flames roared across his back. The pain nearly broke him. He felt more scales crack across him. He clawed and bit madly. Blinded with smoke and fire, he felt the joint where her wing met her back.

He bit down hard.

He tore through cartilage.

He pulled back, ripping her wing off, and spat.

She tumbled below him, screaming, a dragon with one wing. The severed appendage caught the wind and flew away like a sail torn from a ship. Shari roared. She flapped her one wing uselessly.

Rune rained his fire. The flames crashed against her.

With a howl that sounded far too young and afraid—the cry of a hurting girl—the blue dragon returned to human form. Shari Cadigus fell screaming, a woman with blood on her shoulder, her armor shattered.

Rune dived after her.

“Shari!” he screamed.

Dragons flowed between them. Rune crashed into one, shoved the beast aside, and kept diving. Shari tumbled. Rune reached out his claws. He had to catch her, to kill her before she could escape. Another dragon shot between them. Rune cursed and slammed against scales. He leaped off, pulled his wings close, and roared fire. He kept swooping. He saw Shari below. He could almost catch her. He reached out his claws—

A white dragon streaked below.

Rune howled.

The white dragon caught the tumbling Shari, flapped wings, and flew westward over the forest.

Rune stared, heart freezing.

Stars no.

“Tilla,” he whispered.

He hovered in the sky. His eyes burned. His wounds blazed. Then a dozen dragons charged toward him, roaring fire.

TILLA

S
HE
FLEW
,
THE
WOUNDED
PRINCESS
of Requiem in her claws

Her eyes burned and her belly roiled.

I saved her. Oh stars, I saved her. I could have let her die. But I stopped Rune. I chose Shari over him. Oh stars.

She flew through smoke and fire, tears in her eyes. She looked down at Shari; the princess was writhing, and her eyes rolled back, and her lips mumbled. Blood poured from her shoulder blade. The forests streamed below them; half the trees were blazing and raising smoke that nearly blinded Tilla.

“I’m taking you to safety, Commander,” Tilla said.

The fortress of Castra Luna rose ahead from the inferno. Cannons were firing from its walls. Smoke unfurled and the fortress shook. Dragons flew above it in defense; the Resistance had not yet broken through to the walls themselves. There would be safety inside those stone halls.

Why did I save her?
Tilla thought as she flew over the walls. Stars, she could have let Shari fall! She could have tried to escape with Rune. She...

She was a soldier of Requiem.

Tilla nodded and blinked tears from her eyes.

She had sworn a vow when receiving her rank. She has sworn to fight for Requiem, to defend her lands, to protect her commanders.

I will keep an eye on you, Tilla the ropemaker
, Shari had said that first day in Cadport. Tilla had sworn to prove her worth to the princess. She would prove it now.

She shot over the walls. The cannons fired beneath her, shaking the fort. Tilla dived toward the grand hall; its doors stood closed. Corpses of resistors, those brazen enough to have flown this far, lay strewn outside the gates.

Tilla hovered above the courtyard, her wings scattering dust, bits of armor, and a severed leg. She placed Shari down upon the cobblestones, then shifted into human form too.

“Princess Shari,” Tilla whispered, kneeling above her. “You’re safe.”

Shari moaned and her eyes fluttered open. Blood filled her mouth.

“Tilla Roper,” the princess whispered, voice hoarse, and spat out blood. “Tilla of Cadport.”

She remembers me!

Despite the blood, terror, and pain, Tilla felt pride well up inside her. Hundreds of thousands served in the Legions—and Princess Shari remembered her.

If I save her life,
Tilla thought,
she will reward me. I can rise above the Black Roses. She will promote me. She will grant me power.

Tilla tightened her lips. She had sworn to survive in the Legions; this was the greatest thing she could do now.

“I’m going to save you, my princess,” she said. “Can you stand? I’ll get you inside. There is safety behind the walls. The enemy still fights above the forest.”

She helped the princess to her feet. Shari slung her arms across Tilla’s shoulders, and the two began to limp toward the doors. Tilla was the tallest woman in her phalanx, possibly the entire fort, yet Shari stood even taller, her body lithe but heavy with muscle and steel. Tilla struggled to support her; her knees ached and nearly buckled.

When she reached the doors, Tilla pounded against them.

“Shari Cadigus is here! Open the doors!”

Arrowslits lined the walls and turrets. Behind them, shadows stirred and men called out.

“Shari Cadigus!” The cry echoed behind the doors. “Open the gates!”

The doors creaked open, and Tilla entered, supporting Shari. The princess limped, most of her weight pressed against Tilla’s shoulders. Once they were inside, the doors slammed shut again.

Axehands stood in the hall, arranged in battle formations, their namesake blades raised. The low, vaulted ceiling and crowded columns left no room for dragons; if the battle reached these halls, it would be a battle of blades.

Prince Leresy stood behind the Axehand formations. His eyes widened and he gasped.

“Shari!” he said. He ran between the axehands, shoving them aside. “Move. Move! Let me through.” He reached Shari and stared at her, eyes narrowed. “You’re wounded.”

Still leaning on Tilla, the princess snarled. “Go back and hide behind your thugs, brother. The battle still rages.”

Confirming her words, howls sounded outside. The archers at the walls cried out and began firing through the arrowslits. Thuds shook the doors, and fire burst around their frames.

“Break down the doors!” howled a voice outside. “Kill the prince and princess. Kill them all! Break inside!”

Tilla laid her princess on the floor, drew her sword, and stood above her.

She bared her teeth, sucked in her breath, and watched as the doors cracked.

VALIEN

T
HE
SKY
DARKENED
INTO
NIGHT
, clouds brewed into a storm, and Valien flew through dream and memory.

Rain fell in sheets, thunder boomed, and lightning flared. Dragonfire reflected in every raindrop. Smoke rose like demons and blood spilled. All around, through ash and rain, the shadows of dragons spun, rose, fell, and crashed together with bursts of light. Valien flew through a nightmare, a single dragon in a sea of ghosts.

“Marilion,” he whispered as he flew, still seeking her. “Do you fly among these ghosts?”

Cannons boomed ahead. A cannonball cut through the clouds and slammed into a dragon beside Valien. The dragon collapsed into human form. The cannonball kept flying; the man fell, limbs torn and tumbling.

Valien snarled.

I’ve come here to save the living,
he thought.
And to avenge the dead.

“Resistance!” he howled. “Follow my fire—to the fort! We break through.”

He blew a pillar of flame skyward, a beacon for his warriors. Behind him, he heard them answer his call. Thousands of flaming pillars pierced the clouds, spinning and roaring. The rain steamed.

“Claim this fort!” Valien roared and flew forward. “Death to Cadigus!”

He beat his wings madly. He could still see little of the battle; all around, the smoke, fire, and blood curtained the forest. The battling dragons were nothing but shadows and firelight upon scales. Yet Valien drove onward. He could hear the enemy ahead: their cannons firing, their dragons calling, their emperor shouting for the red spiral.

Yes, you await me here, old friend,
Valien thought.
You who killed my king, who killed my wife. I hear your call, Frey. I come to answer.

He blew more fire, clawed an imperial dragon who charged his way, and kept flying. From smoke and fire, he saw them rising: the black walls of Castra Luna.

Years ago, Valien himself had served in this fort. Back then, the Aeternum dynasty had ruled here. Ivy had covered pale walls. The sons and daughters of Requiem had studied swordplay, dragonfire, and justice. Today no ivy covered the walls, only black tiles draped with banners of the red spiral. Today the youths studied no justice, only cruelty and murder.

Today,
Valien vowed,
we cleanse this fortress.

Cannons boomed.

Balls of iron flew through the smoke and clouds.

Valien howled, rose higher, and dodged a missile. Behind him, dragons screamed and blood sprayed him. Dark shadows leaped from the walls below, and pillars of fire blazed his way.

“Break down the walls!” Valien cried. “Resistance, follow—take this fortress!”

He swooped, claws outstretched. More dragons flew toward him, their bladed helms engraved with spirals. Valien bathed them with fire, then clawed their blazing bodies. He dived. A cannon fired toward him. He dodged the missile, landed on the gun, and roared his fire. Men burned and fell screaming from the walls. Casks of gunpowder blazed, and Valien soared, the flames licking his feet.

“Slay the enemy!” he howled. “Show Cadigus no mercy.”

The Resistance descended from the sky, a rain of scales and claws. Hundreds of dragons landed upon the walls, towers, and courtyards, roaring their flames. Arrows shot from inside the halls and towers. Dragons clad in armor—frightened youths only moons into their service—fought and died.

Valien stood in the courtyard, tail lashing, breath blazing. Arrows clattered against his scales. A dragon shot toward him, and he flamed it; it crashed down in human form, a charred young man crying for his mother.

“Break down the doors!” Valien howled, pointing a claw at the main hall. “Slay all who lurk inside.”

The main hall of Castra Luna rose from the fire, its columns wreathed in smoke; the Regime’s echelon would be lurking inside. Arrows flew from slits. One slammed into Valien’s shoulder, and he roared.