The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (66 page)

Looking around her, Allette was drawn back into the real world, and what she saw terrified her. She had moved in a trance for so long that she hadn't realized how far into the Jaga she had traveled. Around her shambled looming, upright shapes, moving within a black and slime-covered landscape. Even that which lived seemed to be dying. Allette wasn't certain how such a place could exist or sustain itself, yet here she was.

Beams of sunlight pierced the foliage but were frequently interrupted. Though she wanted to believe it was simply an effect of the wind moving leaves and branches, there was no wind to speak of, and she knew what it really was. The thought of all those feral dragons in the air made her shiver; even a single one was more than she'd ever want to encounter. They were such savage creatures, and though she didn't want to, she could almost relate to them. They existed for only themselves, and anything else that came near them was something to be attacked; what had once seemed evil now seemed like simple survival.

New cuts and gashes crossed her flesh, and she took the time to coat her wounds in mud--anything to hide the smell of blood. Most of her was already covered in the ubiquitous black slime, which helped her blend in with the surroundings. What would have once seemed revolting was now something that might keep her alive. Her perspective had been forever changed, and she would never see things the same, no matter what happened.

Movement.

Allette went rigid beside a twisted vine that almost resembled a tree and remained motionless. Sucking sounds and soft thuds marked the movements around her, and Allette felt she was surrounded. She hadn't rested in hours, and her legs trembled. A soft splash sounded on the other side of the vine where she hid, and Allette sprang away like a rabbit fleeing a fox. The foul creatures might not have been looking for her, but they reacted immediately to her presence. Howls and barks filled the air, and Allette could see the shapes closing in on her. The twisted, bizarre landscape slipped past in a tangled blur accompanied by pain and panic. They were getting closer.

No longer fully obeying her deepest desires, Allette's legs began to give out. She'd run as far and as fast as her body could handle, and both legs felt like old rope. No matter how hard she tried to keep them straight, they simply collapsed under her weight.

Without warning, Allette half ran and half fell into a clearing. The ground beneath her feet changed from slippery muck to moss-covered stone, and the exhausted girl lost her balance. White light flashed around her as she fell; when it cleared, she lay on her back, staring up at blue skies filled with dragons.

The dark shapes that had hounded her now gathered around the clearing, but none would step onto the mossy stone. Not even saplings grew within the near-perfect circle, and no branches encroached overhead. Through breaks in the moss, patches of black stone were visible. It formed a domelike structure with a slightly higher point at the center and a gentle slope outward. Allette pushed herself to her feet and backed toward the center of the clearing.

When she reached the spot, she nearly turned an ankle. At the very center of the grove was a perfectly round shaft that looked to have been bored deep. Allette couldn't see the bottom and had no idea how deep it might go. Curiosity was banished and overwhelmed by fear; the creatures at the edge of the clearing were wrong, distorted, twisted. Each looked very different from the other, the exaggerations of their forms varied and unique, but mostly grotesque. There was no kindness in their eyes, and Allette knew they would have killed her already if not for this place. Something about it kept them back, and she could only hope the spell would last. It didn't.

Stone and jungle alike shook when a full-grown feral dragon dropped into the clearing and cast a baleful glare at Allette. She glared back. Most of her fear had been burned from her, and she no longer had anything to lose. If this was the moment she would die, then she would face death with defiance, no matter how futile the fight. The sound the feral dragon made in its throat was like a roaring river accompanied by a massive rockslide. The power of it made Allette cover her ears in spite of her defiance. Still she stood her ground, and the dragon seemed to find this amusing. Lowering its head closer, it looked at her the way a cat might look at a wounded bird.

"Go away," she said.

The dragon snorted and the buffeting air forced Allette to take an involuntary step backward. The feral seemed pleased with itself but also showed signs of losing patience.

"I said,
go away!
" her voice rang unnaturally loud and seemed to pain the dragon, whose tail twitched now, and fury blazed in its eyes.

Rearing back, the dragon inhaled deeply, the rush of air forcing Allette forward a step. When the dragon had first growled at her was nothing compared to the roar that emerged from it now. So terrible was this call that all the other dragons circled closer, converging on that spot, apparently all wanting to know what could so completely enrage one of their brethren from so deep within their territory. Now instead of one dragon to face, Allette faced all of the dragons. She could not hide, she could not run away.

Still she stood tall, resolute, emboldened by the acceptance of her fate and feeling free for the first time in a long time. This was what she had sought: freedom. Pity it would be so short. That thought almost brought a twisted smile to her lips. The wry look further enraged the feral looming over her, and it no longer seemed to care about intimidating her into submission. Now it just wanted her dead.

The beast stared at her, its reptilian pupils narrowing, and as it drew a deep breath, it also swept its tail through the clearing. Allette never saw it coming and was tossed once again onto her back. Now the dragon stood directly over her, raised up to its full height, its wings partly extended, and its claws tearing into the moss-covered stone. The world trembled beneath the power of this beast, and Allette could feel the thrum of it. One more breath, and it would be done. The last fear within her evaporated like smoke on the wind, just as the rest of the dragons arrived to see her die. She was as of yet unaware that she would disappoint them.

"Obey!"
she shouted desperately as the dragon's head snapped downward, her arm reaching toward the sky, toward the comets, toward the goddess she'd always ignored.

The word shook the foundations of the Godsland. Power that had lain hidden, buried beneath a mountain of fear, and building until the pressure was too much, overwhelmed all resistance. Even as the word left her lips, she felt the power of it, tasted the tang of its might, and smelled the fear of all who witnessed her power. Light burst forth from her hand like a gushing fountain. Blasted away by the force of her will, Allette's wounds evaporated and she was remade. The dragon above her was in mid strike, its massive head descending upon her, eyes wide, the whites around them showing. Even if this creature wanted to obey her command, it was too late; there was no way for it to stop mid strike. It was committed and gravity alone would propel the now unstoppable attack; at least it had appeared unstoppable.

When the dragon's mighty bottom jaw struck the fountain of light and what looked like baby stars issuing from Allette's upraised hand, it was tossed backward as if struck by a giant uppercut. The dragon's limp body followed its head and tumbled backward into the black swamp. Above Allette, her energy reached to the sky, now unobstructed--the dragons avoided the column--and it seemed as if she reached out to the comets themselves. Latching on to a large, colorful, and beautiful comet, she drew deeply, and the skies were afire. Bits of colored light leaped away from the towering column of energy and danced through the air. Lightning cleaved the sky, and thunder rumbled a long ominous note.

Light played over the scales of the gathered ferals, and all eyes rested on Allette. Each and every one of them fell to her, overwhelmed by her might. She looked into their minds and was amazed by the sheer capacity, which was now hers to command. These dragons were not brilliant on an individual basis, but they had the ability to share information, and together they were potent. Within them, Allette found their fears and desires; she knew their enemies and took them as her own. Their memories were long, and they recalled well that this world had once belonged to them. Allette soared the skies with them in those days as the experiences flowed over her. She merged with the ferals, and in this way, Allette Kilbor subtly bonded every feral dragon within the Jaga. By the time the creatures realized what was happening, it was too late. She exerted her control. Beneath her power struggled the wills of the feral dragons, and with a single push, she crushed them. Might was hers. They were hers. The world was hers.

Utter disbelief washed through the black dragons, but resistance was gone, obliterated by her will.

Through her domination of the ferals, Allette gained control of the men already loyal to the dragons as well as the abominations that had resulted from the ferals' twisted desire for power and revenge against those who'd vanquished them so long ago. Such hatred and vileness had gone into the perversion of these creatures that Allette wanted to simply rid the world of them. She felt a connection to them, though, through the dragons. What she also knew was that their enemies were massing forces on both sides of the Jaga and preparing for an assault. There was fear, deep and sharp, and not Allette's fear; the ferals had expected to defeat a faraway enemy and use the might of those nations to come back and destroy the people of the Heights and Midlands who had for so long oppressed them.

Violent memories of these battles blasted her psyche, and Allette thrashed side to side from the force of it.

Calm.
Allette simply exuded the command, there was no need to communicate, the dragons already knew.

The flock responded to her command with a simple appellation.

Queen.

Chapter
19

If you change your perception of reality, you change reality.

--Barabas the druid

* * *

None of the tales about dragons that Sinjin had ever heard mentioned just how much work it took to feed and care for the majestic, if frustrating, creatures. His grandfather had always said that training horses was hours of work and frustration that paid off in just a couple of minutes of exhilaration. Sinjin had never really understood, but working with Valterius enlightened him. The dragon shifted beneath him, and Sinjin cinched one of the straps, which was a little loose. He'd been getting taller, and wider for that matter, and Valterius seemed acutely aware of the extra weight. Whenever Sinjin ate, the dragon watched him as if every pound he gained were an affront. Sinjin had come to understand a bit of his dragon's sense of humor, most of which was at his expense. It was far more frustrating than it was endearing by Sinjin's estimation.

A dark cloud in the water below caught Valterius's eye, and Sinjin saw it shift to bright silver as the fish changed direction. Even knowing it was coming, it was difficult to keep from screaming when Valterius trimmed his wings and sent them racing toward the water below. The wind clawed at his eyes, and he wished he had a pair of goggles like his mother had made. There wasn't much time for him to think about it. Pulling back on the reins, as ineffectual as it may have been, Sinjin tried to convince his dragon to pull up before they struck the water. Valterius knew his business, though, and struck the water a glancing blow while reaching down and grabbing not one, but two gleaming fish from the water.

Show-off,
Sinjin thought.

Valterius reeked of mirth. After a few turns on the thermals, they glided back to Windhold. Sinjin thought it a fitting name, and it was a memorial to what had once been the Wind clan. The Arghast had reacted strangely when he first suggested the name, as if he offered them a gift too great and at the same time as if he asked too much of them. It was something he doubted he'd ever understand.

In true Valterius fashion, they entered the hold at high speed. One or two people unlucky enough to have been crossing his path rushed to get out of the way. One Drakon had to dive under his dragon as they passed.

"Sorry!" Sinjin yelled over his shoulder.

Valterius released the fish as they approached the area where the other fish that had been caught that day were stacked. Most of the dragons dropped their fish at the ledge and never entered the keep itself. Valterius, on the other hand, treated it like a game. His aim, this time, was perfect, Sinjin had to admit. The fish bounced once when they hit the stone then slid across the slick area around the fish until meeting up with the rest of the mound, pressed tightly against the pile, one after the other. Had he released them both at the exact same instant, it wouldn't have worked, but the slight delay in between was just enough to keep the two from colliding with each other.

Those cleaning fish knew what to expect, and they ducked down as Valterius passed. As Sinjin had asked them not to, the people cheered Valterius's aim, and the dragon wove his head back and forth, gloating as he burst out the back side of the mountain. Beyond was a sheer face, and again the knowledge it was coming wasn't enough to prepare Sinjin for the force of the sudden change in direction. Valterius reveled in his acrobatics, and Sinjin did his best to hold on.

Their chores were done. They had transported water, game, fruits, nuts, and of course fish. Valterius had done most of the work, but getting the goods prepped for transport wasn't always easy. Those who had spent their time gathering the food didn't take it kindly when what they found was dashed on the rocks. Together they made an efficient and effective team. Valterius seemed not to like the idea of chores any more than Sinjin did, but as long as he was allowed to make games of them, he did not balk at the work.

When they were done working for the day, Sinjin liked to give Valterius the freedom to go where he would. The truth was that Sinjin had little choice in the matter. Valterius had made it very clear that where they went, how fast they went, and the angle of their approach was of his deciding. Sinjin was allowed to make suggestions, but the dragon had the right of refusal. It was another thing that Sinjin would never have imagined. His mother's relationship with Kyrien had been so much different; Kyrien had the ability to speak in people's minds. His mother had known her dragon's thoughts. In comparison, Sinjin was blind.

After a couple of sharp turns, Valterius righted them, and Sinjin was able to think clearly once again. A few turns on the thermals, and they left the world far below. Sinjin had been surprised to find he did his best thinking here. The silence was nearly absolute, and Valterius knew what he was about. Looking out over the sea, Sinjin let the storm of his thoughts settle until he could think about one thing for a time; it was something his mother had taught him. Lost in thought, he barely noticed Valterius cock his head, his interest piqued by something Sinjin also hadn't noticed. He'd been busy wondering if Gwen was still angry with him.

Water rushed beneath them, and Sinjin realized that they were much farther out than they would ordinarily go. In that moment, he recalled the lectures he'd received in the past about going off on adventures and not telling anyone where he was going or when he would return. With that in mind, he used his knees and the lines to guide Valterius back the way they had come; at least that was what he tried to do. Valterius ignored his input and continued on his chosen course: east. These waters were unknown to him, or probably anyone else for that matter, and a knot formed in his gut.

"We should go back," Sinjin said, hoping he could reason with the dragon and feeling silly for doing so. Still, his grandfather said that all horse trainers talked to their horses; even if the dragon didn't understand everything he said, most creatures understand tone and body language. "Think of how everyone will worry if they don't know the fate of Al'Drak."

Valterius just grunted in response and continued on, using tricks to gain speed. The wind made it even more difficult for Sinjin to express himself. At that moment he felt very alone. This dragon could take him anywhere he wanted, and he would be returned to Windhold only if Valterius so chose. It was unnerving. Valterius seemed to find it amusing.

Fluffy white clouds filled the skies ahead, and a trumpeting cry came from within. Sinjin jumped in his saddle as much as the straps allowed, urgently trying to get Valterius to turn around while the dragon took them into the clouds, heading directly for where he thought the sound had come from. Within the cloud, pervasive moisture soaked into everything, and Sinjin was grateful when the air began to clear.

"I knew you would come," said a voice from beside Sinjin, and he nearly leaped from his skin. Beside him and just below them flew a man on top of a wooden and leather structure not unlike a carriage. Beneath that carriage was a patchwork of gray and black squares that looked like stone. Valterius pulled up a little, allowing Sinjin to see what flew beneath them, and what he saw left him speechless. Bigger than even the feral queen and with a head the size of a house, the dragon below had four legs, and its rider was nearly as bizarre as it was. Long gray and white hair formed braids that fell alongside his also braided beard. Thick furs covered a body as wide as it was tall. He looked as if life had taken things from him--many things. Sinjin wasn't certain how he knew it, but he did. "Are you able to speak?"

The accent was thick but Sinjin understood. "I'm sorry. You startled me," he managed.

The big man barked a laugh. "I s'pose finding me next to you would do such a thing."

The wind made it difficult to hear his words and understand the accent. The strange man waved for Sinjin to follow, and he and Valterius did so whether Sinjin wanted to or not. It would seem this was what had gotten his dragon's attention, and Sinjin could only imagine where this man and his dragon had come from. It was a verdant dragon, Sinjin knew; it could be nothing else, though it didn't exactly match the descriptions, which usually said the skin was a dark green color. The only green Sinjin saw on this dragon was moss that was growing between some of the armor plates.

Below, a length of sand bar came into view, and the verdant dragon circled slowly, taking far longer to land than Valterius or any of the other regal dragons would require. The big dragon did eventually land, gingerly and with seeming reluctance. Valterius showed that diplomacy was beyond him, and he made short work of plopping them down on the narrow sand bar. He kept his wings partially extended and wove his head back and forth as if taunting the much larger dragon, who responded with a roar that threatened to deafen him. The mighty beast was impressive, though Sinjin couldn't help but notice that it wasn't entirely symmetrical, and when he looked at the dragon's eyes, he got another shock: One eye was amber and looked similar to Valterius's eyes. The other was ice blue and missing its pupil; the entire eye was streaked with white, looking like a star exploding within a prison of blue stone.

"Well met," the big man said as he walked down his dragon's extended leg and onto the sand.

Valterius fidgeted, making it difficult for Sinjin to get himself unstrapped. His dragon expressed impatience by turning back to him and snapping his jaws. "Just a moment," Sinjin said, but his voice was strained from the effort. Finally the strap came free, and Valterius celebrated by standing to his full height and dumping Sinjin unceremoniously in the sand.

"Sorry," Sinjin said, embarrassed, as he used his staff to push himself back upright.

"Well met!" the man said, a twinkle in his eye. "It took me years to get the dismount right."

"Who are you?" Sinjin asked. "Where did you come from?"

"I am Onin," the man said, "and I would ask the same of you."

"My name is Sinjin, and this is Valterius." At the sound of his name, Valterius bowed his head in greeting to Onin and his dragon; it was far more formal than Sinjin would have expected from his companion.

"And this is Jehregard."

The verdant dragon seemed to move almost in slow motion compared to Valterius, but there was warmth in his reaction, even if the woof he issued sent Sinjin back a step.

"We come from the Heights," Onin said. "The ferals have returned, and it looked like someone dealt them a mighty blow. Do you know of this?"

The ferals. Sinjin swallowed; they had always known that the ferals had come from somewhere, but Onin's words chilled his soul. "It was my mother and the people of the Godfist and the people of the Greatland."

Tears sprung to Onin's eyes. "The gods have given me hope."

"My mother--" Sinjin's words were cut short when an unbelievably massive thump rattled his bones. It felt as if the world had been struck by a comet. Looking over Onin's shoulder, he saw Jehregard silhouetted against a backdrop of roiling light. Reaching into the sky was a column of energy greater than anything the world had ever seen.

"And then they take it away," Onin said after turning to see what had caused Sinjin to gape like a fool. "I must return. I must tell them of you and your mother. If they strike before your forces arrive, we could be doomed. Meet me back here in two days' time. If I do not come, then bring your forces this way." Using the heel of his boot, Onin quickly drew a deep and distinct arrow in the sand: north and east.

"Wait--" Sinjin said, but Onin was already mounting Jehregard.

The mighty dragon spread his wings before Onin was in any way secure, and the persistent wind lifted the leviathan slowly. They hovered there for the span of a breath, and a sudden gust sent them upward. Flapping his wings, Jehregard took them higher, winging their way south and east.

Cursing, Sinjin ran to Valterius, who did not in any way make it easier for him to mount as Jehregard had. They would have to work on that, Sinjin thought, and Valterius harrumphed. It was becoming increasingly clear that Sinjin would have to be more careful of his thoughts around Valterius. He didn't think his dragon could read his mind, but the wily creature seemed very adept at reading Sinjin's posture and body language.

Valterius, in showing that he had, indeed, learned some things from Jehregard, spread his wings and let the wind do the work. Sinjin hadn't even begun to get himself strapped in before Valterius left the sands below. The gusty wind tossed them from side to side, and Sinjin was afraid he would be sent tumbling. Finally he got one strap secured and was working on another while Valterius climbed.

As Sinjin was securing the final strap, Valterius put them into a steep dive that gave them tremendous speed. The wind tearing at Sinjin's face, he kept his eyes closed until they leveled out and slowed to a more reasonable speed. He would have been grateful for the speed, knowing he needed to get back to Windhold and talk with the clan, except for the fact that Valterius was going the wrong way.

Just ahead of them flew Onin and Jehregard, and Valterius was gaining on them. The verdant dragon let out a bellowing roar, and the big man turned to see Sinjin and Valterius overtaking them.

"What are you doing?" the big man shouted.

Sinjin could barely hear the words, and he raised his hands in frustration. After pulling hard on the reins to no effect, he just looked up to Onin with an apology in his eyes.