The King of the Crags (41 page)
As the sun sank lower and the clouds on the horizon began to look like bruises, Valmeyan’s riders closed in on Snow for one last charge, harrying her even closer to the ground with their scorpions. Kemir watched lakes and rivers and trees and empty meadows flash past beneath beneath them, so close that Snow’s tail sometimes threw up clouds of spray or earth.
‘Land!’ he told her. ‘Find a cave or something like that where they can’t shoot at you and land.’
I do not see any vast and gaping caves, Kemir, but I do see lakes. Plenty of lakes.
‘Caves are better.’
Snow didn’t answer. She headed further towards the mountains and wove back and forth around a forest of craggy hills, ducking between bluffs, diving in and out of narrow valleys, switching back and launching an attack or two of her own, although she never got close enough to snatch a rider. Finally, as twilight fell, the other dragons dropped back and stopped firing their scorpions, either because they’d run out of bolts or because they didn’t trust their eyes in the gloom. Snow resumed her course towards the sea; the others followed more discreetly now, a mile or two away, slowly vanishing into the darkening sky.
‘You can lose them in darkness, can’t you?’ he shouted hopefully. He bounced up and down, trying to fight off the stiffness threatening to seize hold of his lower back. The pain in his head was getting to be unbearable. He felt sick, physically sick.
Please say yes. I don’t have the strength for this any more. Not again. Not after the Worldspine.
Please say yes. I don’t have the strength for this any more. Not again. Not after the Worldspine.
The dragons will sense where I am.
‘How can they see you if it’s dark?’
I did not say see, I said sense. They will feel the presence of my thoughts. Escape is not likely.
Snow started to climb.
We do not like to fly in the dark. Perhaps the other dragons will refuse to continue.
Snow started to climb.
We do not like to fly in the dark. Perhaps the other dragons will refuse to continue.
Kemir hunched over Snow’s back, trying to sleep. His head was thumping and his tongue was starting to stick to the back of his throat. ‘I need water, Snow. I think I’m going to die,’ he whispered, but the dragon didn’t seem to hear him and he fell back to dozing. As the full dark of night began to fall, Snow flew lower. She changed her course and started to follow a river that snaked along a valley filled with pines.
Kemir jerked awake. Snow’s thoughts had changed. They felt bright and sharp and full of victory.
The dragons may sense where I am, but their riders will not. Ready yourself.
The dragons may sense where I am, but their riders will not. Ready yourself.
‘Ready myself for what,’ slurred Kemir.
To jump.
‘What?’
You are getting off. There is water here to drink. You may find food. You will sleep and be refreshed. In the morning I will find you and we will fly to the sea together.
‘What about the other dragons?’
They will come for me, not for you. In the darkness their riders will not be able to use their weapons against me. For a while I shall hunt them. If I succeed, they will be gone by dawn.
She slowed, dropping lower and lower until she was skidding across the surface of the river, wings flapping furiously, sending great waves across the water, flying as slowly as a dragon could fly without simply falling out of the air.
Jump! Now!
Jump! Now!
Undoing the saddle took five times longer than it should have done and then Kemir was falling, rolling over Snow’s scales, bouncing off her shoulder, tumbling, splashing into the water. The cold river shocked him awake, but he barely had time to get his bearings before Snow powered away and the wind from her wings grabbed his head and pushed him under the water. He came up spluttering, thrashing his arms and legs wildly. Half a lifetime ago he’d learned to swim so that he could dive for lake stones to trade. He was exhausted though. His boots and his sword belt were dragging him back down. He managed to ditch the belt, but the boots were another matter and he was loath to throw away either of the dragon-bone bows. And then there was the armour.
I should have thought about this before Snow threw me off . . .
I should have thought about this before Snow threw me off . . .
And then, to his surprise, his feet were on the bottom. He was standing up and the river water only reached to his shoulders. He struck for the shore. The water was icy, soaking through his riding clothes as though they weren’t there, making him bulky and clumsy. By the time he reached the bank he was trembling, teeth chattering. But alive.
Water. And shelter. Before he froze. He took out his arrows and filled his quiver with river water. As he did, he saw two of the pursuing dragons soar overhead, side by side, black shapes against the night sky. Kemir winced and ducked. Once they were gone, he jogged along the bank to where a fallen tree lay with its roots sticking up in the air and started to strip off his wet clothes. There was a scar in the ground where the earth had been ripped open by the tree’s roots as it fell. He tried to ignore how tired he was, fobbing off the fatigue and the exhaustion with promises that they could have him later. As long as they let him do what he needed to do to stay alive.
He threw the last of his clothes onto the ground. He was shivering uncontrollably now. Memories of Nadira kept bothering him, although whether that was because he needed someone else’s warmth or because he might be seeing her again soon, he wasn’t sure. He started shovelling pine needles into a mound, scrabbling for handfuls wherever he could find them. She could have helped him with this too.
He ran out of strength long before his pile of needles was as big as he wanted it to be. More would have been better, but there was nothing for it. He tipped some into the hole, climbed in and pulled the rest on top.
‘Forest blanket,’ he whispered to himself. ‘Have you never tried it?’ His teeth were chattering. As the lurking darkness took him, he could almost believe he wasn’t alone any more. And then he was gone.
He was awoken by snuffling. Warm, loud snuffling.
I know you are here. I can feel your thoughts.
He opened his eyes. It was still dark. A dragon was peering at him. A
huge
dragon. He couldn’t see what colour it was, but he was fairly sure it wasn’t white.
huge
dragon. He couldn’t see what colour it was, but he was fairly sure it wasn’t white.
‘Snow?’
In the times we were first born this one had a different name. Now he is called Sunset.
Kemir didn’t move. He couldn’t. Overnight, his muscles all seemed to have turned to wood. His face ached and his nose was sore and swollen up like and egg. ‘This . . . is . . . another dragon?’ he hissed.
I told you I would hunt them. I have brought down one. The others evade me.
Something landed with a thud close to Kemir’s head.
This is the rider. I could not tell if he was poisoned so I did not eat him. He has warm dry clothes. There is food here too.
Something landed with a thud close to Kemir’s head.
This is the rider. I could not tell if he was poisoned so I did not eat him. He has warm dry clothes. There is food here too.
Food. Kemir jumped out of his hole. He skirted nervously around the new dragon, but Sunset only sniffed its dead rider and then eyed Kemir with dull curiosity. Both dragons were deliciously warm. After a moment of hesitation, he started to relieve the dead man of his clothes and his armour. The clothes were still warm too. Then he looked at Sunset.
He will not hurt you. There is food. You wish to eat. You must take what you can. More dragons are coming. We must be on our way to the sea.
Kemir helped himself. The food was delicious. He felt new again.
You may ride Sunset if you wish. He is far from awakening.
‘No thanks.’ He climbed up into the saddle and kicked Snow in the neck. ‘Come on then! Gee up! How many dragons are after us now?’
Two remain. They will not catch us.
With food and water the rest of the journey wasn’t so bad. Snow flew straight; the other dragon flew behind her and the riders from the mountains kept their distance. Sometimes when Kemir looked back he couldn’t even see them. Then, hours later, they’d be back, little dark specks against the high white haze of cloud. They never came close though, and after another day and night of drifting high over the edge of the mountains, the Worldspine came to an end. A very abrupt end, as though the ancient god who’d carved the landscape had simply stopped and cut the rest away with a divine knife. Sheer cliffs plunged into the Sea of Storms, and when Kemir looked to the east, to the depths of the mountains, he saw that the cliffs only grew higher, until they rose from the sea for miles and vanished into the heavy clouds above. As Snow flew out into the void between the grey and grumbling clouds and the churning waters below, the last two dragons ended the pursuit. They stopped at the cliff and perched on the rocks. Kemir watched them fade slowly into the haze of the day.
We have won, Kemir.
Kemir closed his eyes as they flew out to sea. The coast was barely visible. Snow climbed up into the clouds, and Kemir couldn’t see anything any more. The air was bitterly cold but at least it was damp. He opened his mouth and wished it would rain. The water he’d taken from the river was already gone.
‘Where are you going?’ Snow was turning back towards the coast.
Do you not wish to rest, Kemir? To eat and drink at your leisure? To lie with your limbs outstretched?
‘You bloody know I do.’
So do I.
She powered in through the cloud. Kemir yawned. If the dragon wanted to go back to the coast and land somewhere safe, that was fine. He slumped over Snow’s shoulders and let his mind wander through the memories that had brought him here. He thought of Sollos and of the dragons that had burned his home. Of Snow burning the alchemists out of their caves. Of Nadira. Of Rider Semian, whose sword had ended Sollos. Of his own shrieks of rage. Of sitting astride Snow as she hurtled through the air. He dreamed of the wind in his face, a great, howling wind . . .
She powered in through the cloud. Kemir yawned. If the dragon wanted to go back to the coast and land somewhere safe, that was fine. He slumped over Snow’s shoulders and let his mind wander through the memories that had brought him here. He thought of Sollos and of the dragons that had burned his home. Of Snow burning the alchemists out of their caves. Of Nadira. Of Rider Semian, whose sword had ended Sollos. Of his own shrieks of rage. Of sitting astride Snow as she hurtled through the air. He dreamed of the wind in his face, a great, howling wind . . .
They were falling out of the sky. He blinked awake and tried to move, and the wind almost ripped him out of his harness. Snow had tucked in her wings. She was falling straight down like a monstrous arrow from the heavens, and Sunset was beside her. The black stone landscape of the cliffs was rushing up towards him. Kemir opened his mouth to shout, to scream, anything, but the wind tore his breath away. He couldn’t even breathe.
Look.
He could barely open his eyes, but now at least he had a proper dragon-rider’s helm. He pulled down the visor and looked. The two dragons who’d followed them to the sea were still there and Snow was diving at them.
Breathe!
He forced his chest to motion.
Breathe!
‘What are you doing?’
He forced his chest to motion.
Breathe!
‘What are you doing?’
These ones will be slow and stupid just as you have become, and I am hungry. I do not think there is much food in this sea.
‘There are fish.’
I do not think I am well equipped for catching fish.
The ground was coming up. Kemir clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, and then Snow spread out her wings and threw Kemir forward with such force that he hit his head on her scales and knocked himself out. When he came to, Snow had landed. Kemir touched his forehead. His fingers came away bloody. His face was agony. His nose was probably ruined forever.
You knew what I meant to do,
chided Snow.
You should have been ready.
chided Snow.
You should have been ready.
‘I
was
ready.’
was
ready.’
Obviously not ready enough.
She had a dragon-rider in her mouth. As Kemir pulled his groggy thoughts together, she crunched on the knight and swallowed him in one gulp, armour and all.
She had a dragon-rider in her mouth. As Kemir pulled his groggy thoughts together, she crunched on the knight and swallowed him in one gulp, armour and all.
‘Stupid dragon, impatient as ever. He was probably poisoned, you know.’ He could hear whimpering and wailing from somewhere.
No, he was not. I asked before I ate him.
‘How very civilised. And what makes you think that whatever he told you was the truth?’ Definitely whimpering. Someone was still alive, begging for mercy. Kemir peered down, trying to see the ground below Snow’s bulk.
He did not tell me anything with his words, Kemir, except how terrified he was. But I saw in his mind. No secret joy, no hidden victory. Only the understanding of certain death and his own futility. He had not taken poison like the ones before.
Snow licked her lips.
Bitter. I prefer them better fed.
Snow licked her lips.
Bitter. I prefer them better fed.
‘I’m sure the others will taste better.’ Two dragons meant four riders, didn’t it? His head was throbbing badly. And his nose. Most of him, in fact.
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