The Dragon's Lover (23 page)

The mouths of the small band gaped as a magnificent
red dragon wheeled over the Hyr'rok'kin army. The creature was
terrifying, yet somehow seemed to be on their side. The monster
skimmed down over the Shards, razor-sharp talons strafing all
below.

“Isn't she gorgeous?” Raine murmured to Idonea, and
even under the circumstances, Idonea rolled her eyes.

“Yes, yes, whatever,” she said, regaining the senses
that had fled when she thought her life was over. She felt the urge
to rush down and join the fight, but Raine was keeping her eye on
the black dragon, who seemed too stunned to react at the
moment.

Weynild wheeled about again, then hovered above the
great scales. Golden eyes assessed the contraption. Great leather
wings lifted her upwards, then she went into a steep dive at a
sharp angle into the support of the platform. The impact of the
gigantic creature with the marble pillar shook the ground, throwing
nearly the entire Hyr'rok'kin army to the ground. Elyara and Dagna
went down, as did Gunnar and Bristol. Feyden fell against Lorifal,
who barely maintained his feet. Raine went to one knee, catching
Idonea and keeping her from tumbling down the stairs. A crack
appeared in the pillar supporting the scales.

“No!” the black dragon screamed in fury, knowing he
was too far away to prevent the inevitable.

Weynild shook off the impact and regained altitude
with a few thrusts of her mighty wings. She went into another steep
dive at an even greater speed, and this impact was deafening. Any
one left standing was thrown to the ground and even Raine went to
both knees. The crack widened and the chains were broken. Although
magically constructed, they had been fashioned with physical
materials and the enormous links fell on the Hyr'rok'kin below,
crushing everything beneath them. The great scale began to slide
off the support pillar and once reaching a critical point, broke in
two and crumbled downward. The platforms went down in a huge cloud
of dust and debris, smashing everything below.

“By my ancestors,” Lorifal said in disbelief. He did
not think the destruction of the great scales was possible. The
magnificent red dragon again shook off the impact and headed their
way. The enormous creature hovered above their heads, glaring
menacingly at the black dragon.

“Talan,” the black dragon hissed.

“Ragnar,” Weynild said with contempt, “I should have
known that you were behind this. Out of all the ancients, you
always were the most willing to involve yourself in petty
affairs.”

“Not so petty,” the black dragon replied. He nodded
to the great gate. “You may have destroyed the scales, but the door
is already opened wide.”

Weynild turned her great head towards the gates. The
Hyr'rok'kin were using the bodies of their fallen comrades as a
ramp, and now were coming through the doors four abreast. Their
numbers were increasing astronomically and they now flooded the
courtyard. Hell hounds and Marrow Shards were starting to come
through the opening as well, and the mass began to creep up the
stairs of the altar. Lorifal drew his ax, and Gunnar and Bristol
their swords. Dagna drew her sword, still leaning upon Elyara.
Feyden notched an arrow in his bow, looking to Raine for guidance.
Raine gazed up at the red dragon, who gazed down at her with
glowing gold eyes.

“You must shut the gates,” Raine said.

Weynild knew this to be true. She must stop the
Hyr'rok'kin at their source, and she was the only one capable of
shutting the gates. It would be difficult even without Ragnar's
attempts to hold them open.

“And you?” Weynild asked.

Raine smiled her wickedly mischievous smile, the one
Weynild loved more than all the world.

“I've got this,” she said, nodding towards the black
dragon.

Weynild roared her approval and spun about in an
acrobatic maneuver, heading towards the gates as Raine turned back
to the black dragon.

Ragnar coughed his amused contempt. Although he was
exerting tremendous effort to keep the gates opened, the effort was
lessening as more Hyr'rok'kin came through. And it would require
little effort to defeat the band of tiny cretins in front of
him.

“Raine?” Feyden asked. The question did not need to
be articulated. The Hyr'rok'kin were seeping up the stairs towards
them and they were surrounded. And with all her skill, he did not
possibly see how she could defeat an ancient dragon. Reaper Shards
and Marrow Shards were one thing, one of the ancients, entirely
another. He did not know whether to train his bow on the dragon or
on the approaching Hyr'rok'kin, so he alternated between the two.
Lorifal stood at his shoulder, his ax wavering with the same
indecision and anticipation. Dagna assessed the situation a little
sadly; she did not see how they would survive this. Elyara clutched
her staff in her hands, bravely raising herself to her full height.
Bristol and Gunnar turned to the Hyr'rok'kin, knowing they could do
nothing against the dragon.

“Raine,” Idonea said, “you of all people know you
cannot defeat him.”

Raine smiled, a look of fierce joy on her face. “And
you of all people,” she replied, “should know me better than that.”
She turned to the black dragon, drawing one of her double
swords.

The dragon laughed, an awful snort of derision. He
towered above her as she approached, his sinewy neck snaking down
towards her. Oddly, as she approached, she was removing her armor,
shedding clothing as she neared.

“Are you going to seduce me, little Arlanian?”

Raine was dressed now only in boots, breeches and a
short-sleeved leather jerkin. She drew her other sword now that her
hands were free. She allowed her eyes to go to their native deep
violet and the dragon was taken aback. The beauty of this race was
not exaggerated. He knew now why his Mistress had given him the
orders she be captured alive. He was a little saddened to think
that might not be possible, not because he was not capable of
taking her alive, but because he no longer wished to if he could
not possess her himself.

“Not exactly,” Raine said, responding to the
suggested seduction. “You're really not my type.”

Somehow this obscure response was perfectly
interpreted by the dragon. He looked to the red dragon that was
hovering before the great gates, her powerful hind limbs holding
the doors and her wings beating the air in an effort to keep them
from opening further.

“You are Talan's lover!” he exclaimed.

“I don't see how that's any of your business,” Raine
said, swinging her swords as if she were warming up.

As dreadful and hopeless as their situation was, the
proclamation and failure to deny it caught Dagna's attention as
well as her imagination. She leaned towards Idonea.

“Did he just say what I think he said?”

“Shut up,” Idonea said, exasperated.

“I am not sure how an Arlanian could survive the
attentions of an Ancient One,” Ragnar said, “your parents must have
been quite hardy.”

“You have no idea,” Raine said, her eyes darkening to
almost black. It was rare for her eyes to remain purple while
preparing for battle, but perhaps it was due to the fact that her
emotions were running so high at the moment. She swung one sword
with a vicious motion, carving an imaginary enemy to pieces. The
dragon was actually beginning to feel uneasy.

“You see, I am only half Arlanian,” Raine said
casually, whipping the second sword around with blinding speed.
“Something I understand is exceedingly rare.”

Although the eyes of the others were fully on the
nearing Hyr'rok'kin, they strained to catch the conversation
between Raine and the dragon. Idonea clutched her staff, preparing
to unleash fire on the approaching horde, but she, too, was fully
absorbed in the conversation taking place behind her.

“Really?” the dragon responded. “Let me guess, the
other half of you is demi-god.”

It had been a sarcastic comment, an allusion to her
fighting abilities even if a derisive one. But the amused look on
the Arlanian's face and the glower in those purple eyes made the
dragon even more uneasy.

“No,” she said calmly, “something far more dangerous
than that.”

And as she spoke the words, Raine outstretched both
arms, no longer attempting to hide anything. The intricate blue and
gold markings rose to the surface of her skin, the unmistakable
filigree of a tortuously painful ceremony, one attempted and
survived by only one race in all of time. None present had ever
seen such markings other than in ancient texts.

None except the dragon standing in front of
Raine.

“You are Scinterian,” the dragon said, exhaling in
disbelief.

“And you are old enough to have seen these markings
before,” Raine replied. “Old enough to remember why the Scinterians
became the dragon's ultimate ally.”

The black dragon's jaw slammed shut with tremendous
force and his fangs ground upon one another. Raine smiled as if the
two of them were sharing some inside joke, then gazed at him with
pale blue eyes beneath lowered brows.

“Because before the Scinterians were the dragons'
ultimate allies, they were the ultimate dragon slayers.”

No sooner were the words from her mouth than Raine
leaped toward the dragon. He attempted to take flight but she was
upon his neck, one sword impaled in the soft skin between the
scales. She used this sword to hold on as the head writhed about
like a serpent, the great jaws snapping at her. The black dragon
began to launch himself skyward but Raine swung again, this time
slicing the tendon on the back of his leg, crippling his ability to
leap. Without sufficient height, he was unable to flap his swings
to their full extent nor gain any altitude. He skimmed along the
platform before crashing downward while Raine still clung to the
impaled sword. With a great wrenching motion, she yanked the sword
from his flesh and went for his heart. He lunged sideways, and
although she was able to cling to his neck, her sword deflected off
the great bony plate protecting his chest. The sideways lunge sent
them both tumbling down the stairs, taking out a column of the
advancing Hyr'rok'kin who scattered panicked in every
direction.

Raine was barely able to avoid being crushed by the
tumbling dragon and it was only her incredible strength that kept
her grip on his thrashing neck. She had lost her swords to maintain
her grip and now pulled a dagger from her belt, feeling the blood
pulse beneath her. There was a gigantic vein throbbing beneath her
leg and with unerring accuracy, she jabbed the dagger between two
scales to find the monster's jugular. Blood began to spray from the
wound, not a killing blow, but one that would weaken.

They had tumbled all the way to bottom of the steps
and the wounded dragon was whipping his tail about in rage and
agony, doing damage to the Hyr'rok'kin and none to Raine. She had
lost the rest of her weapons in her prolonged fall and now was
unarmed, so she turned to a nearby Shard who looked at her dumbly.
She smashed him in the head with a downward fist and took his ax
from him. She hurled the ax at the dragon, her target the other
leg, and again her accuracy was unerring. The ax sliced through the
tendon, hobbling the monster completely. His thrashing became
frenzied and blood sprayed in every direction. He also began
breathing fire from his lungs now that Raine was no longer attached
to his neck and was a viable target, or at least would have been
were she not dodging the flames.

“Raine!”

Raine looked upward. Feyden had raced down the steps
after her. He had her bow in his hands. With a great heave, he
threw the weapon end-over-end and she concentrated with all her
ability to catch the bow in its center. To do otherwise would
amputate her hand. Ragnar was rearing back, preparing to blast her
with an inferno, and she snapped the bow outward into place.

The dragon let loose a blast of fire at her but
Idonea sent a simultaneous blast of ice towards the funnel of
flame. The end result was a wave of warm water and steam that
drenched Raine, nearly knocking her to the ground. It was a
decidedly better outcome than being burned alive, and she shook the
water from her hair with a toss of her head.

“Feyden!” she yelled, holding out her arm. The
Scinterian markings on her forearms seemed to glow with the
exertion of battle.

But Feyden was already notching an arrow. Raine had
the bow but did not have any ammunition. He let the arrow fly,
praying that Raine's supernatural skill would not fail at this
point. The black dragon slammed his tail to the ground, causing
Raine to stumble and nearly fall again. But she caught the arrow in
mid-flight, flipped it by spinning it in the palm of her hand,
notched it, and drew her bow string to its full length. She let it
fly.

Time seemed to stop as the arrow flew through the
air. Bodies fell in slow motion, blood spattered at an
infinitesimal rate, the dragon swung his wing to block the incoming
missile. The arrow pierced the thick membrane of his wing but it
was fired with such force it did not even slow down as it passed
through. It found its mark, piercing the right eye of the dragon,
then burying itself in the dragon's brain.

The scream was deafening. Raine fell to the ground,
covering her ears. The Hyr'rok'kin began fleeing in terror,
scrambling over one another to get back through the doors that were
now slowly but surely closing. The black dragon thrashed about in
death throes, destroying everything in a large radius. Raine stood,
a little unsteadily, as she was joined by her companions.

“Can I chase them now?” Lorifal asked with grim
humor, watching the Hyr'rok'kin flee.

“Yes,” Raine said, taking the sword that Elyara had
retrieved for her. “We can chase them now.”

And so they did, the small band of four humans, two
elves, one dwarf, and one Scinterian Arlanian, accompanied by one
of the most powerful ancients of all time, Talan'alaith'illaria.
They chased the Hyr'rok'kin army, hell hounds, and Marrow Shards
back through the gates of the Underworld. And as Weynild was
finally able to shut the doors completely, anything that had the
misfortune to be left in the great courtyard was slaughtered. When
the last one fell, a cheer went up amongst the small band. Lorifal
quite forgot himself and hugged Feyden. The reserved elf took it in
stride, however, and patted his comrade on the back affectionately.
Elyara and Dagna kissed. Gunnar and Bristol grasped forearms and
pounded one another on the chest. Then all eyes turned to Raine,
who stood slightly apart from Idonea. Both women stared up at the
immense red dragon that was gliding in to a graceful landing before
them.