Dragon Airways (15 page)

Airplanes zipped past, firing rounds that made the air sing of death. Only the dragon's evasive maneuvers kept them alive. It was a tenuous existence, and Riette continued to lament her lack of control over the events that ruled her life. Holding on with all her strength, she was powerless and small up against forces that would tear her world asunder. Diesel planes now approached, outfitted with the largest firing tubes yet. Smoke poured from them, and rockets took flight. Zipping through the air across an erratic flight path, these missiles followed the dragon's movements, and even more concerning were the explosions when they got close. With her ears ringing and the ends of her hair singed, Riette knew it would take but a single direct hit from one of those weapons to knock them from the sky.

Dashiq lashed out, filling the air with dragon fire, and Riette sensed the strain it put on dragon and saddle alike. Aircraft dropped from the skies like a deadly rain, and most of those loaded with rockets exploded before hitting the water. Within minutes, much of the eastern Zjhon fleet had been destroyed.

Not looking back, the dragon flew north. A portion of the air fleet had escaped to assault the Heights, and there was little chance Dashiq would make it to the mountains in time to prevent major damage and casualties. But she was in a perfect position to make sure those aircraft had nothing to come back to.

"They are beaten!" Riette shouted. "We should finish them off!"

Barabas shook his head. "We've only so much magic. The Heights can hold against the likes of them. We must save our strength for what's to come. This is far from over."

Riette crossed her arms over her chest but considered his words.

Farther inland, the weather cleared and the Heights were visible in the distance, along with the aircraft circling the mighty peaks. Darting between those shadowy silhouettes were dragons.

"We have to save them!" Riette shouted involuntarily.

"The Heights will hold," Barabas said.

Dashiq continued to fly north and west.

"There's no one at all defending Sparrowport. We can fly around the swamp to the north and stop at Dragonport."

No one flew straight over the twisted Jaga swamp. It was said wild dragons ruled those skies. Such were the stories told to children in Sparrowport to keep them from wandering too far, but Riette had never seen a wild dragon. Riding a dragon made her second-guess that preconception. All dragons had seemed like mythical creatures, just stories and legends, until she had seen them herself and they became real. The thought gave her chills and made her wonder how many of the dangers from fireside tales were also real.

Dashiq, unlike any other dragon, gleamed in the afternoon skies. Her copperwork facial reconstruction now smooth and sleek, no green remaining. Details previously obscured or worn beyond recognition had been restored. The metal had been lovingly crafted in intricate detail. Metal scales lined up with flesh-and-blood scales, but around the eye was a design that did not mirror the opposite side. The dragon's real eye was much larger than Azzakkan's Eye, but the radiating lines and interlocking triangles that filled the space appeared almost natural. It was a masterwork requiring magic—the last magic his people then possessed. Some hated Barabas for that, and he had done it anyway, knowing it would be the case. Now he returned with far greater magic and refused to use it to save them.

True to his prediction, though, those within the Heights must have fought valiantly since the air around the mountain was free of airships by the time it disappeared from sight. When Dashiq slowed, it came as a surprise. Riette had thought she might soar all the way to Sparrowport faster than the most powerful airplane. Instead, she landed on a sizable island that showed signs of being used by humans. Several docks floated within the natural harbor, but no ships were moored there. The few buildings scattered along the shoreline were dark, and no smoke rose from chimneys. The air smelled of salt and the distinct odor of the shoreline.

"Why are we stopping?" Riette asked.

Barabas shrugged. Dashiq turned back to look at Riette and made it clear she was to disembark. Riette owed the dragon her life, but under such scrutiny, she felt small and weak and feared she might become lunch. It was an unrealistic fear, but she did not want to risk a dragon's wrath either way and hurried to get herself and Emmet unstrapped. The reddish clay shoreline was uninviting, but Riette wanted nothing to do with the buildings there. She'd much rather be back in the sky than remain in this place another moment. It gave her the crawls. Emmet stayed close by.

Barabas and Tuck did their best to tend to Dashiq, whose needs were not entirely known or understood by Riette. The cloudiness of the stones embedded in the saddle was an indication their time and resources were limited. Perhaps some magic remained in the atmosphere, as the tales said, but that required one to believe the tales of gods and goddesses were at least in some part true. It was a difficult thing for her to reconcile, yet she had the results before her. If the tales really were true, then what remained was a mere shadow of the power that had once been and would someday be again. Even those who believed true magic would return along with the goddess agreed it would be thousands of years hence. Hardly something that would help in the current circumstances. They had found a small well and already threatened to run it dry. It was a terrifying realization. They had faced but half the Zjhon strength. Barabas was right; this wasn't over. Previously the full extent of the change in the saddle had been hidden. Now she understood.

Barabas was a man who made difficult decisions and did not appear to second-guess himself. Riette envied him. So often she questioned her decisions and actions, and for a great portion of her past, she had been very wrong about so many things, it was difficult to trust herself to make the right decisions going forward. No matter how much she had hated him not so long ago, she found herself wanting to understand Barabas, to know what he thought and what he would do. She felt safe with him, even though the entire world was falling apart. People had said it was an exciting time to be alive with so much innovation and change going on around them, but Riette would have been just as happy for everything to have stayed the same. The cost was far too great.

No matter how unexpected the break, it felt good to walk. Emmet never left her side, and she wasn't certain if it was out of fear or something else. When he spoke, it came as a surprise.

"Dragons," he said, pointing.

Shielding her eyes, Riette scanned the horizon and drew a sharp breath when she realized how close the two dragons had come without their noticing. Though the Drakon should consider them allies, it was disconcerting. Barabas and Tuck calmly watched the dragons approach, which was all that stayed Riette's rapidly beating heart. Even so, she dragged Emmet back to Dashiq's side at a fast walk.

"Do you know them?" Riette asked Barabas.

He nodded.

It made sense that he would, and Riette felt silly, but she was tired of being left out and uninformed. It was time she started to take charge of her own life, and she had to do what was right for Emmet. Wandering around, following a crazy man and his dragon might not be the best answer. It was false but she couldn't stop herself from thinking it anyway.

The dragons that landed were both larger than Dashiq, but they treated the older dragon with a certain amount of deference. Each dragon bore two riders, and Riette's breath caught in her throat when she recognized Keldon. Berigor had saved all of their lives, and seeing Keldon without his dragon seemed unthinkable.

"When you didn't arrive at the Heights, I had to come looking for you."

Barabas nodded. "How is Berigor?"

The man hung his head. "It's not good," he said. "The healers are working with him, but his wounds are grievous. He wanted to be here—" A man who was among the toughest warriors Riette had ever seen cracked at that moment and could speak no more through his grief and worry. No matter how much she hated to see another human being suffer so, it gave her some semblance of hope for herself.

Tarin was among the men who accompanied Keldon. Riette did not recognize the other two. All three remained silent and stoic. "We weren't certain we would find you," Keldon continued. "But I'm glad we did. We need you back. I was wrong."

"No," Barabas said.

"But I cannot be Al'Drakon knowing you are the one of which the legends speak. Dashiq is Al'Drak, which makes
you
Al'Drakon. The choice is not yours. You gave her Azzakkan's Eye. You saved her. And now we need you to save us all."

Riette held her breath, knowing how much it must have hurt Barabas to be cast out and accused of treason.

"No," Barabas said again.

"The choice is not yours," Tarin said.

Turning back to his dragon, Barabas waited. Dashiq watched. Humor dancing in her eye, she snorted and nudged him with her maw. Barabas put his hands in the air and turned back around to face the Drakon. "Fine," he said. "Keldon Tallowborn, I charge you with managing the war effort from the Heights and seeing to your dragon's needs. I order the rest of you to follow him and do as he says; he's not nearly the fool he's made himself out to be."

Tarin had the courage to laugh.

Keldon shook his head. "And what will you do?"

"Exactly what I was already planning to do," Barabas said. "We will go to Sparrowport."

"Then let us go with you," Tarin said. "You decimated the southern fleet! I would not believe it if I didn't see it for myself. Fortunately others also saw it, or no one in the Heights would ever have believed. It's an honor to have fought with you, Al'Drakon."

"You have served well, Tarin. Do me a favor and stay alive until this is all over. I'll buy you a mug of ale."

Tarin's reaction showed he valued the gesture far more than any tankard, and Riette had to once again adjust her notion of who Barabas DeGuiere was. Every time she thought she had him figured out, he changed, and every time, she cared for him more. It was starting to frighten her. All the things in her life she had loved had been taken from her save Emmet. Who would be next? The thought made her tremble.

"When the Heights are secured, you may come find us," Barabas continued. "Until then, you will serve me best by maintaining order and dealing with what remains of the southern fleet, though I suspect they already know they are defeated."

"You are a good man, Barabas DeGuiere," Keldon said. "You embody the true meaning of what it is to be Al'Drakon. Thank you."

Barabas nodded. Nothing was different for Riette and her companions, but the way these other men regarded Barabas had completely changed. The more Riette thought about it, the more she realized things had changed for her as well. Now she needed to understand what it was and what exactly it meant.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Dragon Airways. We don't eat nobody. That's our promise.

—Tuck, dragon groom

* * *

Dragonport was unlike other holds they had been to. Rather than a hollowed-out mountain, it looked to have been carved from the cliffs, as if someone had removed a single slice from the mountain like a piece of pie, leaving a perfectly formed plateau, much of which now served as a runway and cargo staging area. Wooden structures stood a short distance from the sheer cliff face. How such a place had been created was a mystery. The perfect right angles and straight lines made it appear man made. Even for mighty dragons, it was a stretch. She'd seen their architecture, and it consisted mostly of sweeping, twisting lines. Only the floors of the hollow mountains were smooth. And how had they even done that? Riette couldn't imagine shaping even soapstone with any level of artistry or mastery, and yet the mountain stood before her, daring her to disbelieve.

The mists evaporated with the morning sun, and Dragonport exploded with activity. Some shouted and pointed at them, but Riette would think the sight of a dragon rider would be a welcome one. Panic was widespread. Many did not even face them, instead pointing out to sea. From the mists emerged a Zjhon fleet. A pair of Midlands diesel props waited on the airstrip below, but Dragonport was otherwise without many defenses. For so long, the place had been the trading post easily accessible to dragons from the Heights but otherwise remote and isolated. Now Dragonport faced a force equal to the one that had devastated a better-fortified hold. Even if they could get word to Forest's Edge in time, it was doubtful sufficient military forces could be mustered at the rear lines to withstand such an invasion.

The Height's supply lines had been severed, and she presumed this fleet had been largely responsible. Argus Kind was thorough in his planning and tactics.

It came as a surprise to many when Dashiq landed not far from the airplanes.

"Help me get the carriage off," Barabas said.

People approached warily at first, seemingly unsure what to make of this sudden arrival and their hurried movements. Busy loosening straps, Riette felt the stares on her back. "Help us," she shouted without turning. "She may be your only chance of survival."

Something in her tone and words must have connected with these people, and they helped get the carriage lifted off Dashiq's shoulders.

"Wait here," Barabas said, and even Tuck remained on the cold stone. Sirens wailed. Aircraft were inbound. With the Jaga swamp on one side and Midlands forest on the other, the chances of help arriving were negligible, and the surrounding landscape made even retreat perilous. People instead stood and watched their doom approach. It was a horrifying sight, but Riette understood the futility of the situation. There was nothing she could do either except join them in silent vigil.

The two airplanes took off on a mission from which they would not return, their cockpits perhaps the loneliest places in the world as they flew out to face overwhelming odds. The best they could hope for was to die valiantly in defense of their people and homeland, but even they must know it would make little difference. The horror of it made Riette feel sick.

A moment later, Dashiq launched herself back into the air and soared after the planes, the metalwork of her face gleaming brightly. Cries rose up from those gathered, a desperate note of hope in their voices. Even with magic, the numbers were overwhelming. Free of the carriage and with the rest of the passengers off her back, Dashiq was in fighting condition. Cheers erupted when she flew past the planes, her speed supernatural. Barabas bowed forward, making himself small. Together they were one, moving in synchronicity, attuned to each other's senses. Never had she heard Barabas speak to the dragon, yet somehow they communicated. At times she'd thought them subject only to the dragon's whims, but she now recognized a balance of control and mutual respect. It became clear from the way they flew together in battle.

Part of her questioned the role of the rider, but intuitively she knew two minds were better than one. At the very least, Barabas was a second set of eyes and ears. He never struck an enemy or used a weapon of his own, other than the dragon. Barabas guided Dashiq through the fleet like a flaming scythe through wheat. The planes followed closely, allowing turret gunners to target passing aircraft on either side. In the chaos created by Dashiq, planes soared past the armada and executed wide turns, preparing for another pass. Dashiq turned much more sharply and attacked the airships carrying additional planes. When the planes from Dragonport returned, no swath was cleared. Airships clogged the air above the naval fleet, and the aircraft they had launched were now headed back toward the fleet instead of Dragonport. Having been largely scattered by Dashiq's attack, the pilots did their best to regroup and defend the fleet. Once the threat was neutralized, the hold would be defenseless.

For those standing along a stone railing, it was surreal. History unfurled before them like a distant play too terrible to actually be happening. Explosions filled the air, and debris rained from the sky. Cheers rose up as chaos continued to give the advantage to Dashiq. The two Midlands planes were now hard pressed, and that had everyone on edge. Then things got worse. Some Zjhon pilots must have realized the futility of their involvement in the sortie since their presence made it more difficult for their comrades to maneuver.

A sick feeling in her gut, Riette watched a handful of planes turn back toward Dragonport. "Get whatever you can throw at them!" she shouted. Those around her did not react at first. "Anything we can throw up in front of them could make them crash."

It must have occurred to the people that they could exert some influence on their fate, and no matter how ridiculous the idea was, at least it gave them something to do. Failure would leave them no worse off than if they did nothing. The heavy guns Dragonport did have began firing along their flanks before the planes were even in range, herding the aircraft closer together.

"They'll come in low the first time and try to take us out with their guns," Tuck shouted. "Wait until they start firing before you throw anything."

Looking around, Riette was proud of what she saw. Those in charge of defending the hold had already done everything within their power, but now everyone chipped in. Children gathered wrenches, nuts, and bolts, all of which could do serious damage to a plane moving at high speed. Two groups prepared nets as a makeshift slingshot. When the firing started, they pulled tight, hurling scrap metal into the air. Not all of it went high enough, but clinks and clanks accompanied the roaring engines overhead.

Planes soared past. In rapid succession, two crashed farther down the runway. The rest started their turn, appearing to have escaped damage. When one started spewing white smoke, a cheer rose up. Those cheers died away when it began to look as if the wounded plane would make another approach nonetheless. Rockets fired just before the three remaining planes passed, and the pilot bailed out of the damaged plane. Wearing a leather suit with wings stretched between the arms and legs, he soared over the Midlands forest before his parachute snapped open and carried him out of sight. His plane continued toward Dragonport, a winged bomb. It struck storehouses with a thunderous collision that sent flames and debris hurtling above even the mountain peak.

The other planes stayed high enough to be out of range to most, but some used bows to target vulnerable engine parts. Farther out to sea, one of the Midlands planes was brought down, and the feeling of hope faded. Dashiq fought like nothing any of them had ever seen before, and even Riette marveled at the power. Seeing it from this vantage gave an entirely different perspective than what she'd experienced from the carriage. Now the planes returned to attack Dragonport. After so many had been knocked from the skies, they targeted Dashiq, who was the clear threat. The dragon came under heavy fire as every part of the fleet set its sights on her. There was no need for accuracy if you could explode the entire sky.

In a single, massive onslaught, the Zjhon managed a coordinated, inescapable attack—for them and Dashiq. Shooting down their own aircraft, which then tumbled down onto the fleet, they also inflicted damage on the dragon. Dashiq emerged from a cloud of smoke, wobbling in the air and looking as though she might simply drop from the sky. A pair of Zjhon aircraft came into view a moment later, chasing Dashiq as she tried to make her way back to Dragonport. Closer the airplanes flew, their speed greater than what the dragon could achieve in her weakened state. Three shots were fired before the final Midlands airplane roared past them on a perpendicular path, its turret gunner taking full advantage of the opportunity. All Zjhon guns were aimed at Dashiq and did not get off a single shot at the remaining Midlands plane. When the first Zjhon plane exploded, Riette wasn't certain if it was debris from the first plane that took out the second or the gunner's fire, but the result was the same. Both planes tumbled downward, their pilots ejecting barely in time to soar and parachute away.

Losing altitude at an alarming rate, Dashiq flew an erratic course. Barabas wove in his saddle. The Midlands plane had circled back and approached from behind, but the pilot could do nothing to help the dragon, save perhaps to offer encouragement. When the dragon reached the landing strip, she almost immediately closed her eyes and dropped to the smooth stone. The impact evacuated the air from her lungs with a whoosh, and Barabas fared not much better. Only the approaching plane kept Riette from running to Dashiq. Tuck took his chances, dashing across the expanse to where the dragon lay motionless. Riette felt like less of a person for hesitating and she followed. Given plenty of landing strip beyond where Dashiq and Barabas had come to rest, the plane landed without difficulty. Moments later, the pilot climbed down and ran toward Dashiq.

Tuck climbed to Barabas and spoke with him. The tall man did not respond. "He's breathing!" Tuck cried, his voice quavering.

Arriving next, Riette went to where Dashiq's head rested, her eye closed but her breath evident. "Dashiq lives as well," she said, though she was uncertain how much longer that would remain true. There was only so much punishment any living creature could endure—even for love. The dragon held on for Barabas, of this Riette was convinced. Both had endured so much and had been so valiant and brave. Riette could no longer see through her tears.

When she did clear her vision enough to make out what was happening around her, she saw the Midlands pilot hugging Dashiq and crying. "They saved us," he said.

Dashiq moaned in response. The gemstones in her saddle were now more white than clear, especially around where Barabas sat. He was moving now, and Tuck helped him from the saddle. Healers came and ministered to him, along with the other wounded. A naval fleet remained offshore but had lost its air support. Much like the naval fleet to the east, its capacity for war had been dramatically reduced. While the Zjhon still posed a threat, it was unlikely Dragonport would fall.

But now what? If Barabas and Dashiq died, what would she do? Where would she and Emmet go? What would Tuck do? So many questions made her weak in the knees. She hated to think of losing her friends, but she knew better than to pretend everything was fine.

"Pardon me, miss," a man in his late middle years said, breaking Riette's train of thought. She stared at him blankly for a moment. "Are you all right?"

"Um. Yes," she responded. "I . . . just . . . need to sit down."

The man, who introduced himself as Finny, put his arm around her and helped her toward a padded bench beneath a nearby overhang. He brought her a mug of cool water, bread, and cheese. For a while he sat in silence and watched her eat. "Do you feel better?" he asked.

Riette nodded.

"Good. I'm sorry to do this to you now, but I need to ask you a couple questions. Is that all right?"

Riette nodded again.

"Are you Riel Pickette's girl?"

The question caught Riette off her guard, and she gaped at him a moment before she nodded, tears gathering in her eyes. She'd tried so hard not to think of her father all this time, having learned so much about the war he'd disappeared into.

"I'm sorry, miss, really I am. He was a good man, your father—a fine pilot and a good man."

"What happened to him?" Riette managed to ask in spite of her quivering chin.

"His squadron went out on patrol and never came back," Finny said with a sniff. "I was his flight mechanic. I can see him in you and Emmet. He was a brave man. When volunteers were needed for long-range reconnaissance missions, he was among the first to go. He went down over the Endless Sea. His plane was found months later. We may never know exactly what happened, but we know he didn't survive. I'm sorry."

Riette sat cold and unfeeling. She'd mourned the loss of her father already; the only difference was that now it was real. There was no longer any chance her father would come walking back into her life and make everything all right. Feeling as if she were being slowly stabbed in the heart, Riette tried to think of what she would say to Emmet. It was easier to worry about him than it was to feel her own pain.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Finny asked.

Riette shook her head, and tears slid from her nose.

"Then please just wait here and rest for a little bit, and I'll be back. There's something I need to get for you."