Dragon and Phoenix (78 page)
Read Dragon and Phoenix Online
Authors: Joanne Bertin
Maurynna watched in bewilderment as Pirakos raced away. Then she remembered the mysterious roar and searched the heavens.
There! A black dragon dove out of the sky. Maurynna’s heart beat faster. There was only one such dragon in Jehanglan. And if Jekkanadar were here, Linden could not be far behind. Wild with excitement, she flew to meet the new dragon.
There it was! A column of white quartz in a temple courtyard.
How to do this … Lleld knew she might not be strong enough to pick the thing up. Besides, she didn’t want to land—what if they had spears?
Yet strength wasn’t all in a fight. She dove at the glittering stone. At the last instant, she spread her wings, slowing herself just enough so that she wouldn’t break every bone in her body. She hit the top of the column at a sharp angle, all four feet together.
The thing went over like a toy soldier. Lleld tucked her wings and rolled, then came out of it, winging for the sky before anyone could even think of stopping her.
Jekkanadar!
Maurynna cried as she neared the other dragon. She looked eagerly beyond him, but neither Lleld nor Linden were in sight.
Where are the others?
Maurynna cried as she neared the other dragon. She looked eagerly beyond him, but neither Lleld nor Linden were in sight.
Where are the others?
Her gaze returned to the black dragon swooping down to her level. Wait; something wasn’t right … . Her breath caught. This wasn’t Jekkanadar. This was a dragon she’d never seen before.
Who are you?
she demanded, baring her fangs for battle as the other closed inexorably on her. When the answer came, Maurynna nearly fell from the sky in astonishment.
she demanded, baring her fangs for battle as the other closed inexorably on her. When the answer came, Maurynna nearly fell from the sky in astonishment.
A snuffling brought Murohshei out of his half doze. He went over to the bed.
Xahnu and Xu smiled up at him; Murohshei returned the smile, saying, “Awake at last, little Phoenix Lords? Good; your mother wants to see you. She has a wondrous thing to show the both of you.”
He stood up and clapped his hands. The nurses hurried over.
She wanted to soar into the sun in pure joy. For if both she and Shima had been unheralded Dragonlords, how many more might there be? Their kind still had a chance. She had a thousand questions for Shima, and all of them danced on the tip of her tongue at once.
Instead she said,
Shima, Pirakos intends to lay waste to this land. I must follow, try to stop him, and I’ve already waited too long. But there are still soldiers here—
Shima, Pirakos intends to lay waste to this land. I must follow, try to stop him, and I’ve already waited too long. But there are still soldiers here—
My cousin and the others can deal with them. This land is mine. I go with you.
It will be dangerous … .
So is living
, replied Shima and dropped lower. Maurynna followed. Shima mindcalled,
Amura!
, replied Shima and dropped lower. Maurynna followed. Shima mindcalled,
Amura!
Poor Amura nearly jumped out of his skin. “Yes, Sky Lord?” he called. His voice shook.
Shima’s mindvoice was pure exasperation.
Amura, you ass, it’s Shima. But never mind that. We go to follow the mad dragon. The first Stone has fallen, cousin; you know what must be done.
Amura, you ass, it’s Shima. But never mind that. We go to follow the mad dragon. The first Stone has fallen, cousin; you know what must be done.
Maurynna thought that if the poor man’s jaw dropped any more, a horse could walk right in. But Amura rallied valiantly and raised a hand in salute. “This one falls as well! Go!”
Maurynna turned beneath the vast blueness of the Jehangli sky and set off after Pirakos. Shima followed.
“Arm yourselves!” Amura yelled. He seized a pike from a fallen soldier and waved it above his head. “We must destroy the altar in the inner temple.”
The Tah’nehsieh and Zharmatians rallied to him. Even a few of the Jehangli came. Some snatched up weapons from the ground and used them against the soldiers yet standing. Others caught up rocks and pelted the troops as they tried to form ranks. Here and there a soldier dropped under a well-thrown rock and someone would dart in to seize his weapons—and cut the man’s throat.
It was not the way Amura liked to do battle, but they must fight this one however they could. They had numbers, but the enemy had armor and weapons and, more deadly yet, training. Even now, a few temple soldiers were beginning the formation Amura recognized as the “turtle.” If the soldiers succeeded, the rebellion was lost.
“To me!” Amura bellowed. Then, “Charge them!”
The men wavered; most were not armed yet, and to strike against those who had opressed them for so long … Amura despaired. Had they had the heart beaten out of them?
Defeat hovered in the air like a vulture.
Then another slave, Mad Senwan, driven insane long ago by the slaughter of his family, threw himself upon the soldiers, screaming the names of his wife and children over and over as he swung his mattock around his head like a whirlwind. Soldiers went down before him like grain to a sickle, their helmets crushed or faces smashed to pulp. Hot blood gushed onto the thirsty dust. In his frenzy, Mad Senwan penetrated deep into the still-forming “turtle.” The shock of his attack was so sudden that many soldiers retreated, crying out that a demon was upon them.
The fear in the soldiers’ voices was the goad the slaves needed. “Now!” Amura cried. The men roared their hatred, their rage, their lust for vengeance, and surged forward.
Some were not yet armed; it made no difference. Their bodies were their weapons. With bare hands they flung themselves upon the soldiers, gouging eyes, staying the swing of swords, dragging shield arms down so that their comrades could plunge a blade past the gaps in the armor. That they died themselves meant nothing; they had been dead men for years.
The end came suddenly. One moment the tumult of battle all was around him, the sound of sword against sword, the quiet, desperate grunts of men fighting for their lives, howls of anger and pain; then came a silence so profound that for the space of a heartbeat Amura wondered if he were dead or deaf.
Then the moans of the wounded broke upon his ears. He came to himself. Too many of the men who had become his friends lay dead or dying in the hot, red dust of the valley. But among them were the soldiers left after the dragons’ onslaught—all the soldiers.
Moving stiffly, Amura dropped his pike and picked up a sword and shield. “Take their weapons. We storm the temple.”
Unbelieving faces stared back at him. Storm the temple, their eyes asked. But that was sacrilege unheard—
“Yes!” someone roared, and the others took it up. They swarmed over the bodies like ants. Amura watched as they armed themselves.
Mad Senwan lay at the bottom of the largest heap. Though his body was hacked almost beyond recognition, a peaceful smile lit the ruin of his face.
“He’s found them,” Chuchan said. “Tiala and the girls.” His voice faltered; he cleared his throat noisily. With a glare that dared Amura to say anything, the dwarf clapped a helmet on his head and stumped away.
They flew as fast as they could after Pirakos. At one point they saw him far ahead, but no matter how they pushed themselves, they couldn’t close the distance. Instead, their wings grew heavier; each stroke came slower and the distance between them and their quarry grew until Pirakos was but a speck on the horizon. Then even that disappeared.
His madness gives him strength
, Maurynna realized at last, trying to ignore her aching wings,
even though he hasn’t flown in a thousand years and more
.
But we’re too new to fly for so long at such speed.
, Maurynna realized at last, trying to ignore her aching wings,
even though he hasn’t flown in a thousand years and more
.
But we’re too new to fly for so long at such speed.
Indeed, not long after, Shima’s wings missed a beat and he “stumbled” in the air. He caught himself, but Maurynna knew it was only a matter of time before one of them fell to a horrible death.
Glide!
she shouted, hoping to break through the veil of exhaustion dulling Shima’s eyes.
We must land and rest
.
she shouted, hoping to break through the veil of exhaustion dulling Shima’s eyes.
We must land and rest
.
Shima snarled, but agreed. Wings outstretched, they spiraled down to the ground. Just before they landed, Maurynna said,
Don’t Change
.
Don’t Change
.
Why not?
Because we might not be able to Change back to this form. Linden once told me that if a Dragonlord is too ill or tired, he can’t Change. It’s our magic’s way of protecting us.
Nor did she dare risk not being able to Change back to a dragon. She didn’t quite believe that bit of hell was truly over.
They both settled with a jarring thump. Maurynna groaned softly and sank to the ground. Morlen’s tale of the truedragons’ ill-fated attack came back to her; she imagined them sprawled over the ground, exhausted and wounded and heartsick. Her mind turned away from the images.
It was the better part of a candlemark later that she broke the silence. She still had a thousand questions for Shima, but only one had to be answered now:
What did Pirakos mean
,
‘The first stone falls?’
What did Pirakos mean
,
‘The first stone falls?’
One of the others—your soultwin or the other two
—
has toppled one of the Stones of Warding, I think. If the others fall as well
…
—
has toppled one of the Stones of Warding, I think. If the others fall as well
…
The Phoenix is free
. Maurynna considered that, added it to what she knew of Pirakos.
Do you know where the Phoenix is imprisoned? Because I think Pirakos intends everything to end this day.
. Maurynna considered that, added it to what she knew of Pirakos.
Do you know where the Phoenix is imprisoned? Because I think Pirakos intends everything to end this day.
Shima nodded.
I think you’re right. As for where, the Phoenix is held at Mount Rivasha. I know what direction it lies in from here, but
…
I think you’re right. As for where, the Phoenix is held at Mount Rivasha. I know what direction it lies in from here, but
…
Just get us near there, Maurynna said grimly. I think we’ll be able to “feel” Pirakos once we’re closer
. Even now she could dimly sense him. She heaved herself to her feet and crouched on her haunches. Shima did the same; Maurynna thought he looked as tired as she still felt—and she felt as if she’d run the length of Thalnia and back five times. Although it would put them well behind Pirakos, they would have to rest now and again, or risk overtaxing themselves and possibly damaging their wings. She remembered how afraid
Linden had been that she’d done just that with her first—and heretofore only—flight a little over a year ago. Now she and Shima had already exceeded what she’d done that day, and they had much further to go.
. Even now she could dimly sense him. She heaved herself to her feet and crouched on her haunches. Shima did the same; Maurynna thought he looked as tired as she still felt—and she felt as if she’d run the length of Thalnia and back five times. Although it would put them well behind Pirakos, they would have to rest now and again, or risk overtaxing themselves and possibly damaging their wings. She remembered how afraid
Linden had been that she’d done just that with her first—and heretofore only—flight a little over a year ago. Now she and Shima had already exceeded what she’d done that day, and they had much further to go.
Their only hope of catching Pirakos was that he would be so unused to flying after a thousand years of captivity that he would be forced to rest eventually as well.
Yet he’d already left them far behind; that, Maurynna thought, did not bode well. Her fanged jaws clenched in determination, she leaped heavily into the sky once more.
Up the steep, switchbacked road they marched, clad in a motley assortment of armor and armed with whatever weapons they could scavenge. What they would find at the top, Amura didn’t know. He remembered his aunt’s tales of the spells of the northern mages, and speculations that the Jehangli priests were in truth users of magic. He could only hope that none of them knew how to turn a man into a toad.
Beside him, Chuchan began singing. It was one of the marching songs popular in the soldiers’ barrack, but the words of the chorus had been subtly changed. Ripples of laughter ran through the band; Chuchan sang on, the rest joined in on the chorus, and the infectious rhythm invaded their feet. Soon they were marching, proud as the Phoenix Emperor’s elite guard, ready to fight—and win.
Amura squared his shoulders and stepped out boldly. Whatever faced them—mages, monsters, or more soldiers—they would prevail.
They had to. This was their chance to make the Vale truly live.
Fly, rest, fly. The world narrowed: to periods of increasingly painful flying; to shorter and shorter times of rest as her sense of urgency grew. Maurynna knew that that same urgency affected Shima as well. With each rest he fidgeted more and more, just as she did.
And they
were
getting closer. Pirakos must have stopped to rest as well—or to lay waste to the countryside, though she’d seen no evidence of that, thank the gods. May he be so consumed by his goal that he leaves the innocents of Jehanglan alone, she thought.
were
getting closer. Pirakos must have stopped to rest as well—or to lay waste to the countryside, though she’d seen no evidence of that, thank the gods. May he be so consumed by his goal that he leaves the innocents of Jehanglan alone, she thought.
Still, they were catching up. He was not that far ahead of them; she could feel it. The link between their minds that he’d forced upon her now served her purposes.
And when they caught him? She would answer that question later.
At long last, Jekkanadar reached his quarry. It lay in a courtyard below him; groups of saffron-robed priests tended the area surrounding it. He saw some sweeping the marble paths, others tending to small gardens of flowers.
He roared to warn them off; they looked up, screamed, and scattered like leaves in a storm.
Jekkanadar landed beside the column. Rearing up onto his hind legs, he set his forefeet upon the top, and pushed. Slowly, slowly, the stone tilted. He snarled and pushed harder.
Just as it crashed to the ground, Jekkanadar felt a searing pain in his wing. He whirled, roaring in a draconic rage. Before him stood a young priest—a boy, really—wielding a sharp hoe. Though he was plainly terrified, the boy waved the hoe at him again.
Impressed by the boy’s courage, Jekkanadar merely knocked him lightly out of the way, and jumped into the sky. But at the first beat of his wings, he fell to the earth again.
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