Second Kiss (15 page)

As Glittervein's sword arced toward Xemion's neck with terrifying speed, Xemion grabbed at the last few links of the dragon's chain, just then whirling by him with the momentum of the dragon's swoop. A great tug yanked him up and away from the enraged Nain, whose red, scarred face shrieked “No! No!” over and over again in rage as Xemion disappeared through the hole in the top of the stack — out with the dragon into the wild, raw wind.

Reading by Lightning

T
he
chain that hung from the dragon was quite long, so Xemion was swept along far below the struggling beast as she fled, weak and weary from her wounds. But she was flying very high, as though she thought she might be able to get above the storm clouds. Xemion's only thought was to get back down to the ground as fast as possible. Five of his mightiest blows had barely dented that sword. And now it was back in Glittervein's hands — and soon it would be in Montither's if he did nothing to stop it. He hated doing it but he began to yank on the chain about the dragon's neck. This obviously had some effect because he could hear the poor beast wheezing as she struggled to maintain altitude. But she only climbed higher. Hanging on with his arms and legs he continued to yank on the chain, but to no great avail. The dragon proceeded into the eastern side of Ulde and then turned toward the mountains. This was a part of the city with many towers and Xemion desperately tugged on the chain, trying to pull the poor beast down even as she slapped her wings, trying to gain altitude. Fortunately for Xemion this was a tired and beaten animal or he would have been dragged away to who knows what nest she came from. Slowly he yanked and as the dragon mightily flapped, her altitude lessened until Xemion was in ever-increasing danger of crashing into some of the higher tower tops. He kept preparing to leap off and grab hold of one of them, but there was never one entirely close enough.

The storm was brewing ever-darker clouds from the South Sea, making it difficult to see, even at this height. Suddenly he beheld the looming shadow of the tallest tower yet. If they stayed on their present course, the dragon would fly over it — but he would be slammed right into the middle of it! With strength he never dreamed he had, he began to swing his body back and forth, making the chain a long pendulum in the hope that he might somehow swing up and over the tower. He managed to do this deftly enough, but the effort had pulled the poor dragon down even lower. And that was when the next tower, a building much higher than any of the others, jutted up out of the darkness before he had a chance to even think. He had swung so far over that when the dragon passed on one side of the tower, he passed on the other. The chain caught the tower in the middle and both he and the dragon were wrapped round the ancient building like two balls on the end of the same tether. There was a crumbling sound as the dragon's body crushed the frail roofs of old houses at the tower's foot. Xemion hit the ground with a great thump and blacked out.

⚔

Xemion was awakened by the fierce beating of rain on his face. The sky above was dark, but distant streaks of lightning sent waves of flashing light cascading over the city. He stood up and took his bearings. He had let the chain go just before he hit the ground, so he had been flung some distance from the dragon. She lay unconscious, curled about the tower, a small tendril of smoke, made visible by the lightning, curling up from her nostrils.

He had no idea how long he'd been lying there unconscious, but it must now be deep into the night. The Panthemium was a long way off and if he didn't get back there by dawn, Saheli would arrive and sign up for the Tourney. If she drew Montither in the first round then it would all be over. He wanted to risk it all and just dart back the way he had come, trusting that he could somehow find his way through the ghoul-inhabited darkness. But he couldn't. Not yet. This was a very tall tower — the tallest tower in the landscape. He had realized it the moment he had seen it. This was Vallaine's tower.

He staggered toward the building. The dragon's mouth was open and it was aimed right at the doorway. He wasn't eager to feel again the searing wind of her wrath, so he passed by quickly and quietly. The beast didn't move. Silently he opened the old wooden door and stepped inside, finding himself at the foot of a steep, straight staircase. If this was Vallaine's tower, the locket and book were up there. And Vallaine had told him that unless the book was taken or destroyed, it wouldn't matter whether he saved Saheli or not. This had to be done. If he hurried, he could still get the book and be at the Panthemium by dawn.

It was dark inside the tower, but he left the door open and found his way to the top of the stairs aided by the flashes of lightning. Here a doorway opened into a large many-windowed room half-jammed with books that spilled out onto the stairwell. He recognized some of these books. These were the full-sized copies of the
Phaer Tales
, which Vallaine had released from the locket. But Xemion had no time to marvel. In fact, he didn't even care about these books anymore. There was another book here he needed to find.

Desperately, as the thunder crashed and the lightning lit his way, he searched through the piles, flinging aside like useless rubbish volumes once precious to him. He'd almost gone through all of them when a flash of lightning cast a sudden shadow of a podium. And there it was on top, much bigger than the other books. It must have been a foot thick, its cover completely black. He had never seen this book before, but it was clearly
The Grimoire
. He attempted to remove the massive volume from the podium but couldn't budge it, even though he exerted all his strength in the effort. One foot against the bottom of the podium, he leaned away, gripping and tugging at the book with all his might. But he only succeeded in flipping back its huge black cover. Then the room became utterly dark as the lightning briefly subsided.

Before he could reach to close the book, a streak of lightning so bright it was almost incandescent streaked across the sky, followed immediately by a loud thunderclap that shook the ground. One small, searing offshoot must have crackled through the window and hit the book with a flash because whatever words were on the page suddenly ignited so bright Xemion had to fling his forearm over his eyes. But it made no difference. The words shone through, burning two spells on opposing pages into his vision, steady and luminous —
Spell to Bind
and
Spell to Free
.

He groped blindly at the book in hopes of closing the cover, but a great wind rushed in and began riffling through the pages. Even as this happened the night erupted with streak after streak of thin-veined, coruscating light, igniting the words on page after page, leaving them suspended and ablaze in the air —
Spell to Send. Spell to Bring Back
.

He edged nearer the book, trying to close the cover, but the force of the wind and the brightness of the letters prevented him. Lightning bolt by lightning bolt the words ignited —
Spell to Make Many from Few. Spell to Bring Light. Spell to Make Silence. Spell to Bring Fertility.
Even though he turned his back and pushed the heels of his hands into both eyes the spells burned into his vision, searing themselves into his mind —
Spell to Awaken Peace. Spell to Awaken Desire.
Finally the wind relented and the pages came to a halt. There the book lay open to its middle, displaying a spell in two verses laid out on opposite pages —
Spell to Make a Sword Which May Never Be Defeated
. Xemion crept toward the podium, coming up on the book from below, hoping to close that cover for good, but a thin fork of light sizzled in and lit up the spell so bright it flung him back into the corner.

After that there was a longer break in the lightning. In the ensuing darkness the very tower started to shake as though some demon were attempting to topple it. He knew now there was no way for him to take the book. That left only one option: destroying it. But how? The thought of approaching that magical tome again for any purpose scared him. He was terrified he could be blinded forever, but the thought of Montither's blade entering Saheli's breast terrified him even more.

The next flash of lightning revealed a stone fireplace in one wall. He dashed over and held his palm over it, feeling the slight heat still rising from somewhere within its embers. With no hesitation he groped through the ashes until he felt a coal that was still warm. Quickly he rolled it out to the hearth and blew. It began to heat up and glow, but he needed some tinder. Xemion grabbed a book from the floor, rolled the coal into its opened centre and carried it over to
The Grimoire
, where he continued to blow fiercely until a small tendril of smoke arose. The sky exploded again, and a fraction of a second later there was the loudest crack of thunder yet. Like a nest of serpents suspended in one hand, fangs lashing at the ground, the lightning struck again and again. A great gust of wet wind filled the room and Xemion was dimly aware of the illustration of Amphion gazing up at him as he continued to blow. It darkened, curled, and then a small flame ignited. He ripped another page from the book and fed it into the flame, and when it erupted he touched it to the open face of
The
Grimoire
. The fire that resulted was so bright that Xemion saw nothing but a searing blue dot that completely consumed his vision as he backed away into a corner, hands pressed over his eyes. There was an unusual smell in the room and Xemion heard a shrill hissing as the fire made its way through page after page, each giving up its writing in an eruption that illuminated the whole room.

The tower shook so much Xemion feared it might crumble any minute. But he waited until all that was left of the book was smouldering ash before fleeing. Still half-blinded by the light, he nearly stumbled over the books at the top of the stairs, but the leap he took at the last moment ended fortuitously on the seventh step. He raced down the remaining fourteen steps.

Outside, he saw it was not supernatural forces that had been shaking the tower; it was the dragon. She had regained consciousness while he'd been inside, and now, terrified for her life, she tugged furiously at the chain, trying to escape. But the chain was wrapped twice around the tower and she did not know enough to walk counterclockwise to freedom. The wind blew ferociously and a heavy rain hit them sideways, stinging Xemion's cheeks. He was in a hurry to get to the Panthemium, but he had to stop. The dragon caught his eye and he called her by the name he had used for her in the valley.

“Poltorir!” he shouted in a voice he didn't recognize. “Stop!”

The dragon's nostrils widened as she looked at him. Her huge shoulders were hunched and she drew a sharp breath, held it, and stopped. He saw a shiver run through her frame.

“Wait!” he shouted. Xemion tugged with all his strength at the chain until he drew it out from under her bloody scales. Then he walked it counterclockwise until it was no longer wrapped around the tower. And since he couldn't cut it free, he wrapped it round her neck, all the while trusting her not to turn on him. When he finally had the chain secure enough that it wouldn't hang free, he looked into the dragon's eyes again and said “Xemion.”

The dragon let the breath she had all this time been holding go and the warmth of it swelled up about him as the rain continued its sideways drive. “I will free you now for a second time,” he said, pointing to the sky just as it was shattered by an explosion of lightning that illuminated the whole city. Poltorir reared up on her haunches in the driving rain. The timbers in the crushed houses cracked and groaned beneath her as she lifted her wings and propelled herself into the sky. He watched her disappear into the storm and then turned and surveyed the streaming, ruined landscape about him to see which way was west and what might be the quickest way to get back to the other side of the city by morning.

Suddenly the lightning lit up a great black shadow speeding toward him like an arrow to a target. Xemion gasped and ducked crouching low against the tower wall, prepared to defend himself with his bare hands if need be, but the creature stopped at his feet.

“I beg you, Lord, do not fear this dark dog.” It was Bargest, and he had a very familiar-looking stick in his mouth. “I beseech you, sire, take up again this staff.”

Xemion slowly stood back up, shaking his head to and fro as he took the stick from Bargest's mouth. He stared down at it, straining to see around the blue dot, which still hung suspended in the middle of his vision. Finally he realized with a shock that it was his old painted sword. The last time Xemion had seen it was when Montither had flung it into the swamp beside the Castle Road. Judging from the wet mud that still clung to it, Bargest must have retrieved it. This connection to younger, more innocent days made Xemion momentarily happy. He felt like throwing his arms around the dog and kissing him. Seeing the joy in his master's face, Bargest lifted his huge paws onto Xemion's shoulders and began to rapidly lick the rain away from his face until Xemion had to stop him. The dog lifted his snout to the rain-riven night and in a deep voice rumbled, “Never let me stop loving this master.”

Xemion held the blade firmly in his right hand, still not realizing the true nature of this stick he had found in that riverbed in Ilde. Its silver star paint was now somewhat faded, and here and there the paint had peeled away, revealing the original white surface beneath. “Fine then,” he said in a grumbling voice as he slid it into the long narrow pocket of Vallaine's cloak. “Now I need to get back to the other side of the city.”