The Dragons of Argent and Silver (Tales from the New Earth #6) (5 page)

One
mistake, he thought. All it will take is one mistake.

“
Get
back. Get back!” Aeris shouted. “She will see you for
sure, you idiot. Now is not the time.”

Orriss
zoomed across the top of the desert sands, his glowing form moving
like a streak of light in the darkness.

“
And
go invisible next time,” Aeris added when the other elemental
had rejoined him and Brethia. “What were you thinking?”

“
I
thought I saw an opening,” Orriss told him apologetically.

The
three of them looked back across the sand dunes at the writhing,
twisting mass that was the dragon queen. Her scarred and filthy
yellow scales were pale and colorless in the monochrome of the desert
night, but she could be seen easily as she convulsed and twisted
mindlessly in the endless sands.

“Does she never rest?”
Brethia said with exasperation. “Supernatural creature or not,
even dragons get tired.”

“She must, don't you think?”
Orriss asked Aeris while they watched the massive creature.

“That is certainly my hope. But
unless we are pushed to our limits, we don't need to rest,”
Aeris told them both. “Perhaps she is the same. Who can say?
The queen is unique among her kind. She was the first, the root of
the tree from which dragon-kind sprang. And we know virtually nothing
about her. Strange, isn't it?”

The trio of elementals had been
following the dragon for several days now. Brethia and Orriss had
been tasked with keeping an eye on the monster a few months before.
Simon had sent Aeris to join them specifically to obtain some of the
dragon's blood. So far they had had no luck.

The monster would travel in one
direction for hundreds of miles just to turn randomly and head off in
an entirely new direction, seemingly at random. It had quickly become
clear that the dragon queen was completely mad.

“Why would the gods of Chaos do
something like that?” Brethia wondered sadly. “Create the
creature that would birth an entire species yet leave her almost
mindless? It seems unnecessarily cruel.”

The queen stopped spinning in place,
leaped into the air dozens of feet and then set off at high speed to
the north.

Aeris sighed.

“Here we go again. Let's follow
along.”

The three elementals waited until the
dragon was several miles ahead of them before they set off, flying a
few feet off of the sand dunes of the Sahara desert.

“Do you think the others are
having better luck finding their ingredients?” Orriss asked
Aeris as they moved across the dunes. “I must admit, when our
wizard shared his, um, condition with us, I was appalled and hoped
that we could help him get away from the silver dragon as soon as
possible. With all due respect to her, of course,” he added
hastily.

“I hope so. Finding a surviving
red drake won't be easy,” Aeris said thoughtfully. “On
the other hand, Aethos is quite powerful. If any of our people could
find one, it's him. And Incendus will track down a dragon egg. For
one from the fire realm, he is quite intelligent. And strong.”

Orriss looked skeptical but said
nothing. The air elementals considered their fiery cousins to be a
bit too emotional, perhaps because they were the strongest of all of
the elemental races and often quick to anger.

“I only want to get the blood for
our master,” Brethia said firmly. “To have to share your
mind with another seems like a horrible curse to me. It must be
torture for the wizard.”

The desert was brightly lit by a
three-quarter moon gleaming in the clear, star-studded sky and the
three elementals looked like tiny ghosts as they zoomed across the
sands.

“It is,” Aeris told her
bleakly. “Our dear wizard is at his wits' end. He is not
sleeping properly, he barely eats now and is losing weight that he
simply cannot afford to lose. Just between us, I am sick with worry
for him.” He looked quickly at the other two. “I'd rather
you kept that information to yourselves.”

“You care more for him than you
let on,” Brethia told him with a smile.

Orriss grinned as well and Aeris
scowled at them for a moment before he laughed a bit self-consciously
and nodded.

“I suppose that's true. But our
wizard thinks I'm rather cantankerous. I've built up his expectations
and I mustn't disappoint him. Anyway, let's concentrate on getting
some blood from that blasted monster, shall we?”

The forests of what was once southern
British Columbia were extensive and thick. Since magic had re-entered
the world, they had become even more wild and menacing than they had
ever been.

Twisted monsters prowled their depths
and hid in darkened groves, dark wraiths waited in the deepest
recesses of the woods and creatures not seen since the world was
young stalked the trails there again.

Aethos, air elemental and elder of his
kind, had no fear of these dangers. Very few beings, even those
created by the renewed magic let back into the world, could see him
as he traveled invisibly through the deep woods. And of those that
could, most gave a being of his power a wide berth. He feared nothing
and never had.

But now he hunted a red drake, a
servant of the dead primal red dragon, and it made him nervous. It
was such a new sensation that the elemental examined it closely as he
searched the forest.

He knew that the drakes were cunning
and strong. They could see through his invisibility; of that he had
no doubt. And they were magical creatures, which meant that they
could actually do him harm; something that most mortal creatures
could not.

I suppose all of that together makes me
nervous, he thought to himself. How odd.

The thick trees echoed with the sounds
of teeming life. Howls and strange cries mingled with the screeching
of birds and the screams of flying creatures that looked like
leather-winged dinosaurs. The gods of Chaos had surely Changed the
world into something from the time of magic. The trees towered
hundreds of feet in the air and were connected with vines and hanging
with moss. Those who had once lived here would never have recognized
the forest now.

It was familiar to Aethos in a way. He
had seen forests like these in the distant past. Like all elder
elementals, he had existed almost since the Earth was created. He had
seen civilizations rise and fall, had seen armies of legendary
creatures battle. He had known mages and witches, shamans and
clerics. He had even served wizards, when it pleased him to do so.
And he toiled for one now; not in servitude but out of respect.

Simon O'Toole was different, the
elemental conceded. He was caring and warm. He refused to use any
elemental against their will, asking for their service, not ordering
it. He gave the elementals his loyalty and earned theirs in return.
He was, Aethos admitted to himself, quite extraordinary.

Which was why the elemental was here,
flitting through the primordial forest on the trail of a red drake.
Because the wizard was in pain, tormented. He had bonded with a
silver dragon, merged with it somehow, using magic that Aethos had
never even known existed. And he had done it for the most altruistic
of reasons; to save his people. Only by combining his powers with
those of the last silver dragon could the wizard have hoped to defeat
the primal red.

And he had defeated it, and survived.
It was the stupidest, bravest thing that Aethos could have ever
conceived of. How could he not, out of admiration alone, attempt to
help the wizard reverse the spell he now suffered under? How could he
not at least try?

Added to that was the fact that the air
elementals revered the silver dragons. Of all the draconic races, the
silvers were the ones that Aethos and his people had the most in
common with. The dragons' powers were similar to those from the air
realm and their nobility was admirable. In the end, the elemental was
performing his task as much for Esmiralla's benefit as for the
wizard's. At least that is what he told himself.

Aethos stopped abruptly, hovering
several dozen feet above the ground, and listened intently. The
surrounding chatter of the forest was fading quickly and a new sound
was taking its place.

Roars and bellows of rage echoed
through the trees and the elemental turned in a slow circle, trying
to determine the direction they were coming from.

Ah there, he thought, and shot through
the trees toward the noise.

It was the sound of battle, of two
creatures locked in mortal combat. And the hissing, screeching
cacophony of one of the combatants was familiar to Aethos. It was the
battle cry of a drake.

He dipped and wove through the
branches, avoiding blankets of thick moss and the twisted trunks of
massive trees. Finally the elemental saw the forest open up ahead and
the bright sunlight warn of an approaching clearing and he slowed and
moved forward cautiously.

Peering out at a large meadow choked
with small shrubs, wildflowers and tall grasses, Aethos found the
source of the sounds of battle and stared in surprise.

He had been right; one of the
combatants was a red drake. A dozen feet long from snout to forked
tail and covered in blood-red scales, the horned creature was
screeching like a steam whistle as it slashed and bit at its foe.

The monster that it was battling was
something that Aethos had not seen, and had not missed, for eons. As
large as the drake but draped in thick white and yellow feathers; it
was a griffon.

Its orange, serrated beak dripping with
green blood, the griffon's massive wings flapped and rattled as it
mindlessly attacked the drake, feathers flying in all directions.

What could make a griffon, a flying
creature, attack a grounded monster like the drake, Aethos wondered.
He watched in detached interest as the battle raged on.

A moment later, the elemental nodded
invisibility to himself. The griffon's right wing was bent at an
awkward angle with no sign of recent injury. The creature must have
lost the ability to fly and been attacked by the drake. It didn't
really matter to Aethos. Neither monster was anything but vicious and
evil and he rather hoped they'd kill each other and save him the
trouble.

The elemental looked around the edge of
the clearing and spotted others watching the epic battle. He saw
several large deer, horns gleaming like wicked daggers. He spotted
the black fur of a massive bear and flickering, strange shapes that
were monsters of some kind that he couldn't quite make out. Aethos
knew that he would have to keep an eye on them when the time came for
him to strike.

The combatants were evenly matched. The
thick feathers of the griffon protected its body from the drake's
attacks almost as well as the red monster's scales. Both were about
the same size, although the reptilian drake was the heavier of the
two.

Red blood splashed and mingled with
green. Scales were torn off and feathers flew in a cloud as both
creatures rolled and twisted and tore at each other. It was primeval
and savage and even Aethos was repulsed by the simple-minded rage of
the battle. If anything was needed to convince him of the lack of
intelligence of drakes, it was this.

Neither creature showed any sign of
tactics or planning; they simply threw themselves at each other, over
and over again. It wasn't long before the combatants were covered in
gore and showing signs of weakening. Aethos watched closely and
allowed himself a resigned sigh. The griffon was going to lose.

As deeply as its talons gouged the
drake and its beak sliced into the red hide, the drake's scales were
simply too thick to allow the avian to deal a killing blow. On the
other hand, the reptilian was biting deeply into the griffon through
its feathers and its lighter weight and awkwardness on the ground
worked against it.

I'll have to kill the damnable thing
myself, the elemental thought ruefully. And quickly. Once the griffon
is dead, the scavengers may work up their nerve and attack the
injured drake en masse.

By luck or chance, the fighters had
rolled and thrashed across the glade until they were fairly close to
the edge of the forest where Aethos floated invisibly. He gathered
his power, waiting for the drake to deliver the coup de gr
â
ce.
It came suddenly.

The griffon leaped on to the drake,
which twisted suddenly and flung its opponent a dozen feet away to
land on its back. For a brief instant the bird-like creature lay
stunned, feebly clawing at the sky, and the drake seized its
opportunity, pounced on its helpless foe and disemboweled it.

The griffon screeched pathetically one
last time, a wail of despair and agony and then collapsed and lay
still. The forest seemed to hold its breath as the drake raised its
hideous, blood-soaked head and bellowed triumphantly. It seemed to be
daring the monsters that surrounded the clearing and it licked its
muzzle clean of gore as it appeared to wait for another opponent.

There was no immediate response to the
drake's challenge and its yellow eyes gleamed in wicked glee, even as
its own blood dripped from the open wounds left by the griffon. It
stretched its neck skyward and screamed its battle cry.

The howl was suddenly cut off abruptly
and the drake's eyes widened with a look of almost comical surprise.
This was followed by a grotesque, slopping sound as the misshapen
head appeared to tear loose from its serpentine neck and drop to the
ground with a meaty thunk. Green blood sprayed from its severed neck
and the heavy body collapsed.

A stunned silence gripped the
surrounding forest and then a misty outline, vaguely man-shaped,
appeared next to the corpse and scooped up the dripping head.