Sparks Fly: A Novel of the Light Dragons (33 page)

He laughed as I headed around the side of the building, calling after me in a soft voice, “I’ll go back to town, unless you think you need me here.”

“No, you go to Nepal. I’m sure Maura could use your help more than we will need you. Thank you for everything, Savian.”

He saluted me. “A pleasure, as always. Except the arcane blast. I’ll call when we have Maura’s mum to safety.”

“Godspeed,” I called after him, then made my way through the encroaching forest around one side of the sepulcher, passing Gabriel’s relaxed form on my way. I paused to check that he was all right, then continued on around the far side of the church, where the huge round dome sat over a semicircular bulge of brick and stone columns. In the shadow of one of the columns, I could see the faint images of Baltic and Pavel as they stood together, consulting about something. “Did you set your traps?” I asked when I was close enough for them to hear me.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” a voice answered, but it didn’t belong to Baltic. It wasn’t even male. I gasped as I spun around, a noise that was cut short as Thala, emerging from the nothing that was the beyond, slapped a hand around my mouth, and before I could so much as blink, wrapped a thin, very sharp wire around my neck. “I didn’t think it would be you I caught, though. However, this will work, too.”

Baltic glanced toward me, did a double take, and roared his fury to the night sky even as he leaped toward us, a brief glimpse of moonlight shimmering along the white scales that covered his dragon form.

Thala spun us around so that I was between the two of them, the wire digging painfully into my neck. “This is a razor garrote. Any closer, and I’ll decapitate your mate.”

That stopped him. He stood just out of reach, softly panting fire.

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to do here, but you should be aware that we’re not going to let you get away with anything,” I said, being very careful to not move as I spoke. “Nor are we going to let harm come to Violet.”

She laughed, tightening the wire just enough to make me gasp in pain. I ground back a snarl, keeping my gaze steady on Baltic. “You always were an interfering bitch. Do you really think I care the least about you or Kostich’s
daughter? I’m here for one thing only, and nothing will stop me from taking it.”

Baltic crossed his arms as he returned to human form. “The sword is mine, Thala. It was given to
me
.”

“To hold until such time as it was needed again, and that time is now,” she countered, jerking me around until we faced the wall of the sepulcher. The wire, unfortunately, tightened even more. Wetness trickled down my neck and chest as I tried to look out of the corner of my eye to see what Baltic was doing. I knew full well that he wouldn’t allow Thala to slice off my head, but I worried that he might not have the patience to wait to attack her before the others—including Constantine—realized that she had arrived. I prayed that Pavel had slid off around the other way and was warning everyone.

“And how do you expect to take it?” Baltic inquired, gesturing toward the building. “The archimage has placed much protection on it, mostly arcane, and necromancers have a particular aversion to arcane magic.”

I felt, rather than saw, Thala’s smile as she said simply, “I am not as weak as you believe, Baltic. I will destroy the sepulcher just as I destroyed your house. I will sing an earth song.”

In the distance, I heard a shout of alarm as Pavel had evidently reached the others. Thala must have heard it, as well, for without further ado, she opened her mouth and began to sing.

I have little recollection of the dirge she sang that destroyed our previous house around us, but Baltic told me later it was an air song, a spell that literally exploded the house with a force equivalent to several traditional bombs. I dug through my faulty memory as Thala inhaled and began to sing.

Dirges, I knew, were a form of dark magic, spoken in the form of a song, and mastered only by those who were very adept. I watched in amazement when black, twisted
roots boiled up from the earth around the sepulcher, twisting and twining around the building like so many horrible tentacles, and it was then I realized the full power of the earth dirge.

The noise issuing from Thala was horrible, a low, grating sound that seemed to be made up of tormented screams from the very depths of the earth, tortured and tainted by darkness, filled with hopelessness, scraping away bits of my soul as it continued to urge the earth itself to destroy that which had been made by man.

The roots wrapped around the building, and with one final swelling of Thala’s song, exploded outward in a flying mass of bricks, stone, and wood.

Centuries of dust, decay, and despair filled the air, swirling around us in a dense cloud, choking the lungs and vision. The garrote dug in even deeper as I coughed, my eyes widening when the cloud started to dissipate. Behind me, I could hear the sounds of people approaching, and the cries asking for an explanation of what just happened.

“What the—” Aisling’s sentence ended in a violent attack of coughing as she approached.

“Hmm,” Baltic said, waving his hand through the air to clear the air of dust as he eyed what remained of the side wall. A good third of it was missing, leaving a jagged, raw entrance into the sepulcher. Inside, part of the ceiling had come down onto the stone floor. A hand emerged from under the debris, shoving it aside.

“Still think I can’t circumvent Kostich’s protections?” Thala asked him with a note of smugness that made me want to slap her.

“Mayling!” Gabriel shot past us from outside the sepulcher, hurdling the fallen stones to yank bricks and chunks of wood off May.

“I’m OK,” May said, coughing as she crawled out of
the mass of stone. “There was some sort of statue here, and it gave me shelter. What happened?”

“Who…oh, the shadow walker,” Thala said dismissively. “That will teach her to be where she shouldn’t be. Stand back or Ysolde will die. And when
I
kill, they stay dead.”

This last was spoken to Drake, who approached us with István.

Baltic jerked, his eyes narrowing on Thala. Briefly, I wondered what had startled him so, but my attention was soon claimed elsewhere as the others formed a semicircle around us.

Thala’s voice was amused as she spoke to Baltic. “You don’t really believe you can stop me with a few dragons, do you? Really, Baltic, I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I thought I did, as well,” he said softly, once again causing me to roll my eyes toward him in surprise. He had an indescribable look on his face, something akin to speculation and confusion. “You will release Ysolde.”

Thala was silent for a moment. “You really would give up the sword for her, wouldn’t you? When I was held prisoner, the green wyvern told me you did, but I didn’t believe him. I thought Kostich must have tricked it from you, or that you gave it to him as part of your plan to take over the weyr, but it was true that you willingly gave it up for a mere woman?”

“She is my mate,” Baltic said, his face now completely unreadable, but his fire was burning extremely hot, just beneath the surface, barely contained. I had a feeling that the slightest spurt of emotion would unleash it.

“You have become as tiresome as she,” Thala said, and to my utter surprise, whipped away the razor wire and shoved me toward him. “If you wish to be a fool,
then far be it from me to stop you. You will not see my sword again, however.”

She started toward the destroyed wall, but Baltic was instantly there in front of her, in dragon form once again.

She stopped a few feet from him, laughing and shaking her head. “And now you prove to me that in addition to your heart having grown soft, so has your head. Do you believe there is any way you can stop me from doing exactly as I want, dragon?”

“Yes,” Baltic answered simply.

“We outnumber you, Thala,” I pointed out, tearing off the sleeve of my blouse and wrapping it around my neck.

“I am not so foolish as to come alone,” she said, gesturing to the side.

“Bloody hell,” Savian muttered as a group of about twenty or so dragons emerged from the woods, each armed with weapons used in centuries past, all of them in their natural forms. Red, blue, black, and even two green dragons came toward us, the clouds shifting just enough to allow the icy fingers of moonlight to caress the metal of their weapons.

But it was the two people who trailed behind them who had my blood boiling.

“Oh goody,” I said, flexing my fingers. “Retribution time.”

“Retribution?” Aisling asked, quickly drawing protective wards over Drake and everyone around her.

“That’s Gareth, my bigamous former husband, and his evil wife, Ruth.” I smiled, wondering which of my spells would be best for them.

“Oy. I think we’re going to need help more than Brom needs distracting,” Aisling murmured, and added in a whisper, “Effrijim, I summon thee.”

The demon dog appeared before us, popcorn spilling out of its lips as it blinked in surprise. “Man, Ash, give a guy some warning next time. Brom and I were going to
have a
Monty Python
fest…fires of Abaddon! It’s that crazy lady and her badass posse! And Magoth! What’s he doing here?”

“About to enjoy some roast demon,” Magoth said with a smile that sent a little shiver down my spine.

“You do, and you’ll find your ass back in the Akasha,” Aisling warned before turning her attention to the dragons who moved en masse toward us. “Effrijim, I command thee to attack Thala!”

“What?” Jim shrieked.

Thala spun around to face her just as I caught a flicker of movement from my peripheral vision. Drake slid into the shadows of the interior, and disappeared. No doubt he was off to break into the vault while Aisling distracted Thala. I was surprised he allowed her to do such a dangerous thing, but that surprise faded away instantly when Baltic, Pavel, and Gabriel all rushed Thala at the same time, pushing Aisling a safe distance away.

“It seems we’re always fighting someone,” I grumbled as Thala went down underneath a pile of dragons, only to send them flying a few seconds later. “Toads. Maybe I’ll turn Gareth and Ruth into toads. Would you like that, Gareth?” I bellowed as the dragons in front of him came into range. “Would you like to be a big, fat, slimy toad? That’s what your character is, so you might as well be one in truth!”

Gareth didn’t react, leading me to believe that he hadn’t heard me. He ran after the dragons, a gun in his hand, and Ruth bringing up the rear.

I eyed the nearest of Thala’s cohorts as he approached. Aisling had sent Jim off to tackle the oncoming group of dragons, her hands flying as she started throwing out binding wards. Holland and Pavel rushed past me to the onslaught, Pavel—like the other dragons—in a more robust form. His tail slashed through the air as he caught the first dragon across the chest. Holland, with a battle
cry that would do William Wallace proud, leaped across him and onto the dragon as he went down. Jim flung itself onto the next dragon, leaving me standing alone as Gareth, catching sight of me, veered off from the pack and headed toward me with a wicked look on his face.

I smiled, waiting for him. As soon as he got close enough, I would whip into my dragon form and beat the living daylights out of him. I remembered just how much power I wielded in that form, and even though Gareth was armed, I knew I could take him.

Behind me, I heard Baltic call out as he and Gabriel struggled to contain Thala. Just as soon as I took care of Gareth and Ruth, I’d fetch Constantine, and I’d demand he do whatever it was he could do to disable her, but until then…

“I knew I’d find you here,” Gareth sneered as he raised the gun to me, Ruth dancing behind him and urging him to shoot. “I’m going to take care of you once and for all. You’re coming with us, and you’re going to manifest some gold, or I’ll kill you where you stand.”

“You pathetic little snotball! You’ll get no more gold from me,” I said, yelling an archaic oath as I shifted into dragon form.

Or rather, I tried.

“Oh holy—ack!”

I ducked when Gareth opened fire on me, swearing when I stumbled over the prone form of a dead ouroboros dragon.

“Then you’ll die, you stupid woman. I’m tired of you and your brat always messing up my life. Ruth’s right—it’s time to take care of you once and for all!” Gareth snarled. The gun spat out more bullets, but either Gareth’s aim was atrocious, or I was extremely lucky, because none of them struck me.

Snatching up a morning star that the dead dragon nearest me still clutched, I swung it as I bolted for the
woods, once again trying to shift my form into that of an attractive, if slightly puny-armed, white dragon. Nothing happened other than I immediately got a stitch in my side.

“Great, now I’m going to die because I’m out of shape and my shifter is broken,” I panted as I lunged past the first tree, desperately trying to think of a spell that would disable Gareth so I could beat the crap out of him.

“You can run, but you can’t hide from me, you coward,” Gareth shouted as he followed me into the woods.

“Pot, kettle, black,” I yelled back. In the distance, I heard Baltic calling for me again. I hesitated for a second, wanting to reassure him, but not wishing to take him away from containing Thala.

“I will blow your brains out, and while you lie writhing on the ground, I’ll tell you exactly what I think of you,” Gareth spat out as he leaped out at me, raising the gun.

“Oh please, like anyone cares what you think.” Before Gareth could pull the trigger, I took him by surprise by running toward rather than away from him. I swung the morning star as I did so. Gareth squawked and ducked, leaping to the side. I dashed around a huge ash tree, saying as I did, “Sky below and earth above, sinners all repent, tree of butter and sea of dove, be thee now absent.”

There was a pregnant silence that lasted for the count of four, and then…nothing. “Be thee now absent? Really, brain, that’s what you came up with?” I stood up and peered around the tree, braced to find Gareth and his gun, but rather than a flesh and blood man, a life-sized statue of one stood in the classic shooter’s pose, one arm outstretched as he was evidently about to fire again.