The Rage of Dragons (The Burning Books #1) (42 page)

The Queen’s Guard, the ones in the courtyard, died. After the bloodbath, one of the Indlovu noticed the queen, her cloud-white gown standing out in the dark, and many of them splintered off from the main group, rushing the stairs to the battlements. Kellan ordered the men with him to hold the stairs and asked Kana to stay back. Tau moved to obey, but the queen took his wrist. Her skin was soft, warm, like ash from a recently cooled fire.

“Will you stay with us, Tau Solarin?”

“My queen,” he said, after a breath’s hesitation.

She did not release his wrist. “Our thanks.”

Feeling taut as a kora’s strings, Tau stood by while Kellan and his sword brothers struggled to hold the stairs against a seething mass of full-blooded Indlovu. He flinched and tensed with every hit that his brothers took. And when Yaw was struck on his injured shoulder by a blow that sent him spinning to the battlement floor, Tau tested the queen’s hold. Her grip was firm, staying him.

He looked at her, trying to convey his need. She saw him and looked back to the battle for the stairs. Her face was placid, but her chest heaved and her fingers were clenched.

“My queen,” Nyah said, “you should leave the battlements. It won’t be much longer.”

Tau thought the same. It would not be much longer.

“Dear Nyah,” Queen Tsiora said, voice steady. “There is nowhere to go.”

Nyah moved her head like a wind vane, seeing Odili’s men outside the walls, inside the courtyard, and pushing up the stairs. The queen was right.

“Tau Solarin, if the time comes, we would ask a favor of you,” Tsiora said.

“My queen,” he said, wanting nothing more than to join his brothers.

“When hope is lost, do not allow us to fall into our enemy’s hands.”

“Tsiora!” said Nyah. “Queen Tsiora, no!”

The queen shushed her vizier with a raised finger. “Tau Solarin, will you aid us in this matter?”

Kana watched the three of them like they had lost their minds. His spear was out and aimed toward the fighting, though he’d taken heed of Kellan and stayed out of it. He was waiting to hear what Tau would say.

“I cannot do this,” Tau told her.

“Cannot?” she asked.

“I will die first.”

She paused, surprised, but would not be dissuaded. “And leave us to be used, then killed by those who wish us harm? We would be at Odili and his men’s mercy, such as it would be.”

Tau could feel her shaking. Her grip was tight, but she was shaking.

“I’ll not let them have you,” he promised. “I’ll stop them.”

It shouldn’t have worked. Anyone with sense could foresee the evening’s end, and yet Tau’s words settled her.

“We have faith,” she said, “in the Goddess and in those loyal to us.”

Silently, Nyah began to weep. Kana fidgeted with his spear. Kellan and the others had fallen back. Uduak was dragging Yaw with him. The stairs had been captured and Tau hated himself for making an impossible promise.

The end was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was not so powerful, he thought, as the ground beneath his feet began to writhe and the sound of a hundred thunderclaps tore through the night.

Indlovu were tossed from the stairs by the quake and Queen’s Guards fell from the battlements. Tau pulled the queen away from its edge, forcing her down. It sounded and felt like he was in the middle of an avalanche. Tau had seen them before, in the mountains, but they were in the valley and, lying on the floor of the battlements, he couldn’t see what had caused the furor. He heard the screams, though. He heard the horror in the voices of the men below.

Then a torrent of blazing fire, a column of twisting flame, lit the sky. Even behind the battlements’ thick walls, the fire’s blistering heat curled the hairs on Tau’s skin.

“Goddess!” whimpered Nyah.

“Fire-demon!” said Kana, on the ground beside Tau and the queen.

Tau stood, helping the queen to her feet. He looked down on the courtyard. An entire section of it was gone, fallen away into a molten sinkhole from which the youngling had crawled.

The creature was, in turns, awe-inspiring and piteous. It was huge, but less than half the size of the dragon that had burned the hedeni in Daba. It had open sores on its body and many of its shimmering black scales were missing. Its wings were torn at the edges and its long, sinuous neck was collared, though the bronze chain that had held it in whatever prison from which it had escaped was snapped in two.

The youngling roared at the sky and turned its baleful look on the courtyard’s invading Indlovu, who were stunned to immobility. It opened its maw and belched a river of flames, incinerating thirty men. Tau had to cover his eyes, the fires were so bright, and when they died down, Tau saw that Odili’s Indlovu were attacking the beast. The stupidity and bravery of it made Tau believe that, perhaps, the Chosen were the greatest fighting force on Uhmlaba.

Tau’s opinion, however, made no difference to the youngling, which caught a man in its jaws, snapped him in two, then snatched at another with the clawed tips of its foreleg and flung that man like a rock, smashing him to pieces against one of the keep’s walls. The dragon roared again, and the Indlovu, brave as they were, fell back. They knew what was to come. The knowledge did not save them. The youngling breathed fire, turning the courtyard into an inferno.

“No one should control such. No one,” Kana said as Tau spotted the youngling’s handler.

“Zuri,” he whispered.

Zuri had her hands out, fingers splayed, toward the dragon, and from a hundred strides away, Tau could see the strain on her face.

“What did you do?” Tau said. “What did you do…?”

Kellan, Hadith, and Uduak had crawled over. Yaw was being tended by one of the Queen’s Guard. His shoulder was a mess.

“That is not a Central Mountain Guardian,” Hadith said.

“She freed the youngling,” Kellan added.

“The coterie,” Tau said. “Where is her Hex?”

Uduak saw them first. “There.”

Tau followed Uduak’s hand. The coterie were there, under guard by the five men Hadith had sent with Zuri.

“They’re not drawing energy from Isihogo,” Tau said.

“How can you know?” asked Hadith.

“They don’t have the look, the focus,” answered Kellan.

“Ah,” said Hadith, bouncing his eyes from Zuri to the coterie and no doubt seeing the difference. “But, without a Hex…” Hadith paused, working it out. “She knew. There was no time to bring us Guardians from the Central Mountains. She knew from the start.”

“What did you do…?” Tau whispered as the youngling blew fire at Odili’s retreating Indlovu and Zuri stumbled, only just keeping her feet.

Zuri directed it to the stairs and the youngling scorched the Indlovu on them, leaving behind nothing but char and ashes. The Queen’s Guard cheered, their voices holding an edge of hope, and the dragon whipped its head back and forth, looking for some unseen attacker.

The youngling had torn through the Indlovu and, no longer distracted, it was fighting Zuri’s control, weakening her hold, demanding that she pull ever greater amounts of energy from Isihogo. It was collapsing her shroud.

“It’s Odili!” shouted Kellan.

The wretch, along with four Indlovu, had emerged from one of the hallways leading to the courtyard. The youngling was between him and the destroyed gates. He was trapped.

“Kellan Okar,” Queen Tsiora said. “We wish that traitor captured or killed.”

“My queen!” Kellan signaled the men of Scale Jayyed and they headed for the stairs.

Tau had seen Odili. He didn’t care. Zuri had begun to bleed from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

“What have you done?” Tau said, going to his knees, emptying his mind, and flying to Isihogo.

The youngling was there and its wings were not damaged; its scales were not missing. The youngling looked powerful, indestructible. Zuri was in front of it, holding her hands out and up. It had to be impossible, that someone so small could command such a majestic creature. Yet, the dragon heeled, though it would not for much longer.

Zuri’s shroud was little more than smoke before a breeze—thinning, vanishing, gone. And there she was, beautiful, glowing like the sun at dusk, warm and filled with life. Tau had never seen her in Isihogo unshrouded. She was the purest, most magnificent of the Goddess’s creations, and her light drew the demons in droves.

Tau ran to her through the blasting winds and gray-colored landscape. He ran to her side, pulled loose his swords, and steadied himself.

“Leave!” he yelled to Zuri, struggling to be heard over the underworld’s incessant storming.

Zuri still fought the dragon for control. “Can’t,” she said, nodding at the youngling. “She won’t let me.”

“They’re coming.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

The first demon had emerged from the mists. It charged them on six articulating legs. It had two sections of body—an abdomen and a thorax, its head embedded where a man’s chest would be. Its eyes, five of them, were fixed on Zuri, and its mouth, a gaping hole edged by bone-like pincers, stretched open. It snatched for her and Tau fought it back.

“I’m sorry,” Zuri said again.

Tau yelled at the demon, slashing at it over and over, as the next monstrosity, this one slithering across the ground like some enormous worm, attacked. He cut for the new beast’s head, but it avoided his blade and snapped back at him. Tau dodged and brought his strong-side sword crashing down on its back. It shrieked and retreated, giving Tau a chance to battle the six-legged freak.

“I’m sorry,” Zuri said, her golden glowing face filled with sorrow and fear. “I can’t… I hope—”

“No! Hold on,” Tau screamed, wheeling out of the way of a third demon, which stood like a man but was covered in matted fur and had claws instead of hands. That one caught him, ripping into his upper right arm and tearing thumb-long gashes of flesh away. A fourth demon howled from the mists, snuffed the air, and careened on all fours toward Zuri.

Tau couldn’t do it. Hard as he fought, he could not keep the demons off them both. So, he made them want him more. He reached for Isihogo.

“Tau!” Zuri shouted in a panic.

Tau pulled as much energy as he could from Ananthi’s prison. He filled himself with it to bursting. He gorged until the power of it threatened to burn through him, until he shone brighter than a noonday sun.

The demons stopped in their tracks, no longer interested in Zuri. Tau heard the grunts, howls, roars, and hisses from a hundred others in the mists, and he stepped away from her, calling to them. “I am here for you, finally here in the flesh. Come, come if you dare!”

They came.

Tau lifted his swords and they blazed with the powers of the underworld, burning like they’d been dipped in tar and lit by torches, and with those fiery blades, he set upon Ukufa’s thralls.

He whirled and spun, thrust and swung, moving as fast as he was able, striking with as much power as he could muster. His blades burned the beasts and they shrank back from his blows.

Tau felt triumph. Tau felt power. Tau felt he could kill these demons with his gift-infused swords, and if that was what would save Zuri, then it was what he would do.

He sliced the arm from one demon, chopped the legs out from another. He laughed. This was what it was to be a god. He swung again, connecting; he danced back, then came forward, and a demon, one he did not see, lanced him through the back with several of its dozen spear-like protuberances.

The pain coursed through Tau like a tsunami. It owned him, and when the thing he had not seen ripped its jagged limb out of him, the pain stole his senses. Tau stumbled away, swinging wildly. Through the haze of pain he saw Zuri, still there, still glowing. The dragon had not released her.

He looked down at his wound. The demon had him open from belly to groin. He swung about himself, doing what he could to keep the monsters at bay. He tried to shout for Zuri but didn’t have the strength. His legs were going numb, his arms were heavy as boulders, and his breathing was labored. He was done, and a new demon had come from the mists.

It was twice Tau’s height and covered in spikes from head to toe. It had no eyes and its head was horned. It could not see, but it knew where Tau was. It tracked toward him. Tau forced his arms up, his swords blazing.

“Do you bleed?” he spat, words daring and voice weak. “Shall we see?”

Tau staggered toward the demon of spikes, going to his death. The demon roared. Tau roared back and there was a flash that lit up all of Isihogo, briefly banishing its mists and revealing horrors and monsters beyond Tau’s darkest nightmares. The demon hordes were endless, out there in the distance, endless, and then the light was gone and Tau was joined by a Gifted in the heaviest shroud he had ever seen.

“Tau Solarin,” said his queen. “You will die here.”

“Tsiora?” Tau spluttered, her honorific forgotten.

“The Omehi line has ever been Gifted.” She raised her hand and blasted him with something that felt like enervation twisted in on itself. It sucked his insides out and pulled him away from Isihogo.

“Zuri!” he screamed.

“We will try to save your friend,” Queen Tsiora said, as she increased the strength of the blast, ejecting him from the underworld.

“Zuri!” Tau was on the ground. He didn’t know why. He sat up and was assaulted by pain. Nyah came to his aid, holding him still.

“Don’t move. You’re hurt,” she said.

Tau ran a quivering hand over his body. There was no wound to find.

“He went to spirit world! He was in nyumba ya mizimu, the Reflection,” said Kana.

“He drew energy and was injured by a demon,” Nyah said.

“How alive?” asked Kana. “Shaman? I think only your women have this power.”

“He has no gifts. He’s a fool who has put our queen in danger.”

Queen Tsiora was kneeling in front of Tau, her eyes open but sightless, her focus in Isihogo.

“So many lies,” said Kana. “You tell us your queens lost their power in the Reflection.”

Tau had no time. He had to protect Zuri. He made a second attempt to stand but collapsed.

“Stop it!” Nyah said. “You’ve a demon wound. You took in energy, didn’t you? The damage the demon did to you in Isihogo has come into our world.”

Tau felt at his abdomen again; nothing.

“It is psychic damage. It cannot be seen, but it can kill.”

“Help me,” Tau said, reaching for Nyah.

Nyah recoiled.

“Help him, witch,” Kana said, coming to Tau’s aid. The men gripped wrists; Nyah glared, but helped; and they dragged Tau, groaning, to his feet and to the edge of the battlements.

Behind Tau, Tsiora let out a deep sigh. Nyah left Tau’s side and he would have fallen if not for Kana.

“My queen!” the vizier said.

“We are well,” Tsiora said. “We must warn everyone away from the youngling. It is no longer Entreated. It has been freed.”

She was alive, Tau saw. She was on her hands and knees in the courtyard, tears of blood etched on her weary face, but Zuri was alive.

Not far from her, Kellan and what remained of Scale Jayyed were crossing the courtyard, making their way to Odili. They were careful to avoid coming too close to the youngling, which seemed confused. It snuffed the air and moved its head back and forth, as if searching for something that had vanished.

It was, Tau realized, still focused on Isihogo. It was searching for Zuri. It would not find her. Her soul was wholly in Uhmlaba.

Odili shared the youngling’s confusion. He was searching for a way out of the noose tightening around his treacherous neck, but with Kellan and Scale Jayyed coming for him, he was trapped. Tau didn’t care. Damn the man, he thought, as Zuri wobbled to her feet, looked up, and gave him a crooked smile. He had to get down to her.

Tau took a step toward the stairs, muffled a yelp of pain, and crumpled against the battlement’s crenellations.

“You are damaged,” said Kana at the same time that Odili began to yell orders to his men.

“What?” Tau asked, not willing to believe his own ears. “What did he say?”

Odili’s men were hesitant, but his orders were their only chance and they followed them.

“He… he tell them attack fire-demon,” Kana said as Odili’s Indlovu set upon the youngling with their swords.

The creature’s reaction was instant. It left Isihogo, returning its senses to the world, and lashed out, clawing one of Odili’s men to death. It reared and blew flame into the sky, and when it came back down, Odili’s men had retreated. They were running for the broken gates, Odili far in front.

Kellan and Scale Jayyed went to intercept. They would catch him. They were closer to the gates. The dragon roared and, seeing so many running men, it blew flame.

Kellan was in front. He saw what was coming, yelled a warning to the scale, and dove aside. Uduak was running with Hadith and Themba. The three men were focused on Odili. They did not see the twisting ropes of flame shooting toward them. Jabari, behind them and taller, did. He threw himself into the three men, knocking them down.

The rest of the scale were not so lucky. The youngling’s blast exploded outward, smashing into a dozen of Tau’s sword brothers, killing them instantly. He saw Mshindi explode in flames, and another man, half his body on fire, flailed around screaming. It took Tau a breath, but he realized the burning man was Jabari. He’d fallen on top of Uduak, Hadith, and Themba, and the edge of the dragon’s fire had caught him.

The youngling roared, preparing a second blast, this one to kill the men who had survived. Zuri shouted, drawing attention to herself. The youngling swung its head to her and she raised her arms, the sleeves of her black Gifted robes falling to her elbows. Zuri was back in Isihogo, drawing power, and the youngling stiffened, caught on a puppet master’s strings. The second blast of fire did not come.

“It’s too soon,” Tau whispered, and it was.

Zuri cried out in Uhmlaba as the demons in Isihogo ripped at her, tearing her focus away and breaking the invisible strings that held the youngling in thrall. The dragon was free, had found its tormentor, and did not hesitate. It shot fire at Zuri, and there wasn’t even time for her to flinch. One breath she was there, arms outstretched, robes billowing against the incoming inferno, her skin glowing with reflected light, her eyes sparkling, beautiful, a woman beyond measure. Then the youngling’s fire hit, incinerating her, blasting her from existence.

Tau’s legs gave out. Kana couldn’t hold him and he crumpled to the battlement floor, his whole body shaking. And without knowing he did it, he wailed, doing what little he could to release the suffering from a body and soul that had been handed too much too soon.

“Nyah, we must bind the youngling,” said a voice Tau should recognize, but couldn’t.

“My queen, you must not. Your shroud… We have no Hex.”

“The coterie in the courtyard. Bring them to us. We will hold the dragon until they are here. Nyah, we are for Isihogo.”

“Tsiora! No!”

And Tau wailed.

“My father, the warlord, he comes and the traitor flees with his men.”

“We have the dragon. It is in our control.”

“My queen, you will not be able to hold it.”

“We will, for long enough. Hurry, Nyah, the coterie.”

And Tau wailed.

“Warlord! Hear us. We, queen of the Chosen, must speak!”

And from a distance, shouting. “Demon whore! I will burn this city and all your cities. I will cut the hearts from every soul that shares your evil blood.”

“Hold your warriors outside our walls, Warlord. We still pray for peace and do not wish our dragon to end that prayer with fire. We wish to tell of our betrayal.”

“Father! The Omehi queen speaks truth. She was betrayed.”

And Tau wailed, his mouth covered by a heavy and filthy hand that tasted of dirt and ash. Hot breath, close to his ear, shushing him.

“Kana, my son, have they told you what they did? A fire-demon set on the Conclave? It killed a hundred thousand, Kana! Women, children, our people. They died, every one, burning to death in a pyre three times the size of this city.”

Tau saw Zuri vanish in flame again, burned away to nothing.

“The shul is dead,” that distant and shouting voice continued, “and I will be our people’s vengeance. I will scour Xidda clean!”

“Kellan Okar, we demand you take Kana into custody.”

There was a scuffle.

More words from a nearby voice, accented and difficult to understand. “Tsiora? More treachery? You think this stop my father?”

“Warlord, we have your son and we offer a trade. His life and release for a season of peace.”

“Witch! I’ll slit your throat myself.”

“Not before our soldier cuts your son’s. A moon cycle, then. Retreat from our valley. Give us a moon cycle for your son’s life. Enough blood has been spilled these few nights. We have a dragon in this keep and the rage are on their way. A moon cycle, Warlord of the Xiddeen.”

Tau sobbed, wracking cries, as the big man, hand still covering his mouth, shushed and held him close.

“Swear it, Warlord. One moon cycle of peace and Kana is yours.”

“Demon Queen! I’ll cut the tongue from your lying mouth.”

“Swear it. We cannot restrain our dragon much longer. Swear it or the first to burn will be Kana!”

“I swear it, witch! One cycle of the moon. I swear it. Give me my son! I swear it and swear I’ll be back. I will come with every warrior of the Xiddeen and we will erase the blight of your people from the world.”

Tau opened his eyes. He was crouched and his tears blurred the stone beneath his knees and hands, making the ground seem an artist’s impression. He tried to stem the cries, halt the tears. He failed at both.

“Before your warriors and ours, we have made a binding oath. Kellan Okar, inkokeli of Scale Osa, send the warlord’s son to him.”

Footsteps, then a voice, accented, retreating. “Tsiora! I will speak with my father. I will try to make the warlord see sense. Tsiora, do not give up on peace!”

“Warlord Achak, the Conclave was not our doing. The man responsible is a traitor who sought our death. He has run from us, but you will have his head. This we promise, by the Goddess.”

“A traitor’s head? Demon whore, in my own time I will take all the heads I need.”

Tau scrubbed his eyes clear of tears, and Uduak’s hand lifted away from his mouth.

“Tau?” Uduak whispered.

Tau saw the queen standing tall. She had her hands behind her back, her shoulders squared as she looked out and down at the warlord and his army beyond her keep. She appeared imperious and it was a grand illusion, for Tau could see the panicked tremors in her hands.

“They’re leaving,” breathed Nyah. “My queen, the Goddess is great, they’re leaving.”

But not without a final word.

“We know your witches are dying,” shouted the warlord, near the edge of hearing. “We know it as we know that, in the coming cycles, you will have too few to call the fire-demons. We know it and offered you peace. You saw that as weakness, paying it back with the blood of our innocent. Queen of demons, what you saw was kindness, not weakness. Queen of demons, what you will see is vengeance, righteous in cause and unholy in deliverance.”

If the warlord said more, Tau could not hear it.

“The coterie is coming up.” It was Hadith.

“We cannot hold the youngling,” Queen Tsiora said. “Quickly, she must be re-bound before it is too late.”

Tau let his broken swords fall from his fingers. They were as useless on the battlement floor as they had been in his hands. The people he loved died either way.