Dragon Stones (53 page)

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Authors: James V. Viscosi

BOOK: Dragon Stones
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No time to worry about that now, not while her enemies thought they ruled the sky.  She tilted her wings upward and rose away from the lake, sweeping in a great arc back toward the castle.  Eagles flitted among the towers, but they carried nothing like the net that had humiliated her and nearly brought her down.  Four riders moved forward to engage her as she swept by the castle.  She veered to meet them as they started firing their little weapons at her.  She scarcely felt the arrows as they bounced off her scales; one or two pierced her wings, mild pinpricks, nothing more.  One rider broke formation, retreating behind the castle.  She let him go for now, concentrating on the others.  Now that she was closer, they had loaded different ammunition, perhaps something with a shorter range.  She sensed the power of her crystals in the new projectiles.  They still hoped to defeat her with the alchemist's devices; they still thought that having the dragon stones could make them the dragons.

Perhaps they were right; she had considered these men to be less than nothing without the wizard at their backs, but she would not underestimate them again.

T'Sian closed the gap and bathed them in fire before they had a chance to discharge their weapons.  The men screamed for a moment, their mounts screeched in pain and terror; then they exploded like overheated stones, popping one by one.  Burning chunks of meat and saddlery flew into the castle like tiny shooting stars.

Banking to the right, the dragon went in pursuit of the rider who had fled.  None would escape her wrath.

Not today.

 

Adaran watched as the dragon set herself on fire, escaped from the net, and swept up the hillside toward the castle.  She was not merely a larger version of the hatchlings that he and the others had fought and killed; she was something an order of magnitude greater, like the difference between a summer storm and a hurricane.  The great beast didn't notice them, didn't even look their way, before she disappeared over the castle wall to engage her enemies once more.

"Now we'll see something interesting," Diasa murmured.  But they didn't see anything, interesting or otherwise; whatever action the dragon took, it was out of their view.  They heard things, though:  Men screaming, eagles shrieking, another round of small explosions.  Suddenly a low-flying eagle came around the corner of the keep, evidently fleeing from the carnage.  The rider spotted them and veered closer, crossbow leveled.  Diasa stood and faced him, sword at the ready, though he was well out of range of her blade.

"Identify yourselves!" the man cried.

"Fly on, before the dragon roasts you!" Diasa countered.

Discomfited, the rider glanced back the way he had come, as if expecting to see the monster bearing down on him.  He looked at Diasa, then lowered his weapon and urged his mount onward, flying off to the north, staying low before vanishing among the hills.  Diasa, watching him go, sighed and put her sword away, as if she were disappointed that the man hadn't landed so that they could fight.

Suddenly a vast shadow swept by and a rush of wind buffeted them.  The dragon had come looking for the rider, just as Diasa had threatened, swooping down from over the castle wall.  It seemed as if she would pass without seeing them, but Diasa shouted:  "T'Sian!"

The dragon pulled up short, holding herself steady on enormous wings that spanned wider than the river.  Her head swiveled on her sinuous neck, luminous eyes regarding them for a moment before she flew toward them, landing on the bluff.  Her cruel, curved talons dug into the stone as if it were mere earthwork.  "
What are you doing here, Diasa?
" she said, her voice like lightning.  Adaran, astonished, tried not to gawk; he had never imagined he might hear a dragon speak.  The hatchlings hadn't, neither threats nor pleas for mercy, as he and the others had killed them.

"We can't get down.  Will you carry us back to the village?"

"
There will not be a village for much longer.
"

"You can't destroy it while Tolaria is there."

"
I have my fire back.  I will do as I please.
"

"If not for Tolaria, you would have as much fire as a toad.  Is this how you would reward those who have aided you?"

The dragon regarded them with glittering, alien eyes; Adaran lowered his gaze and waited to be incinerated for Diasa's effrontery.  What fool would expect gratitude from a creature such as this?

Then Diasa said:  "Ponn would be very disappointed in you."

"
Very well
," the beast said.  "
I will take you to Tolaria.
"

"Thank you," Diasa said.

"The castle is already burning and its defenders are in disarray, so this is a small thing, and of no consequence.
"

"Of course," Diasa said.  "It means nothing."

"
Yes.  Nothing.
"  Adaran felt the monster's gaze on him, and raised his gaze to see it regarding him coldly.  "
Who is this pitiful creature?
"

"This is Adaran," Diasa said.  "He was a prisoner in the castle; he has been tortured and beaten.  This is the man Ponn came to rescue."

"
And
w
here is Pyodor Ponn, Diasa? Why is he not with you?
"

After a moment, Diasa said:  "I'll tell you on the way."

"
Tell me now
," the dragon said.

 

Tolaria had stood by as the market square steadily emptied after the dragon freed herself from the net and returned to the castle to battle Dunshandrin's fliers; the exodus had increased dramatically once it became obvious that T'Sian would win the aerial battle.  By the time she came at the town, flying low over the square, there were few people left to scream and flee.  Those who did, though, were most dramatic about it, running into alleys or hiding under carts or simply lying with their faces against the dirty cobbles as if already dead.

She turned in a circle, watching T'Sian glide past, then bank left and return to the square.  She had wondered if this might be an attack, if T'Sian would begin to rain fire down on the homes and shops; but instead she landed in the square, crushing a number of stalls, one massive claw smashing the poor, sad fountain into rubble.  The beating of her wings tipped over nearby wagons and sent tents and awnings cartwheeling across the flagstones.

She opened her front talons, releasing two people.  One was Diasa; the other was a man she had never seen before, thin, dirty, shabby, and very clearly injured.  This must be Adaran, she realized.

Two people.  Someone was missing.

Tolaria began walking toward them.  Prehn started trying to pull free; Tolaria let go of her and she ran to the startled-looking Adaran, wrapping her arms around his leg.  "Adwan!" she cried.  Then, wrinkling her nose:  "You smell bad."

"We just crawled through a sewer," Diasa said.

Tolaria said:  "What?"

"Ponn's escape route led through the cesspool."

"Where
is
Ponn?" Tolaria said.

For a moment, T'Sian regarded Tolaria with gemstone eyes; then she spread her wings and launched herself into the air, winging back toward the castle.  She found herself shivering, unnerved by the dragon's alien gaze.

"Adaran needs assistance," Diasa said.

Still staring after the dragon, Tolaria moved toward the injured man.  "What's happened?" she said.  "Where's Ponn?"

Diasa gave Prehn a sidelong glance, then moved closer to Tolaria.  "Ponn's gone," she said quietly.  "He fell into the river and was swept away."

"What?  We must find him!"

"We can do him little good now.  All we would do is present enticing targets for Dunshandrin's archers, should any remain."  Diasa shook her head.  "If he drowned, he is already beyond our help; if he did not, he is more likely to find his way to safety if not encumbered by escaped prisoners and known invaders of the castle."

"But what if he's injured?"

"He would want us to keep his daughter safe."  Then, seeing the look on her face:  "What would you have me do, Tolaria?  It is down to the two of us.  Should I watch over Prehn and Adaran while you search the river, or should I leave you my sword and go myself?"

Tolaria could hardly argue in favor of either option.  "All right," she said.  "But later, when it is safe, we will search for him."

"Of course."  She glanced at Prehn.  "I will say nothing to the girl until we know for sure what happened.  If she asks you where her father is, try to say that you don't know.  After all, it is the truth."

"I won't know what my answer will be until the question is asked," Tolaria said.  She moved past Diasa, to where Adaran sat on the dusty cobbles.  He stank of excrement, the odor woven through with red threads of infection; but his wounds were so filthy and numerous, it was hard for her to tell which might be  inflamed.  "I can make a poultice to help you heal," she told him.  She looked at Diasa.  "I'll need hot water and herbs that they may have in the kitchen at the inn."

"We can go to the inn to look for your herbs, but we can't stay there," Diasa said.  "T'Sian agreed to spare the village only long enough for us to escape.  She'll return soon, and she will be … indiscriminate."

"But there are
people
here!"

"Of
course
there are.  If there were no people here, she would hardly bother to destroy the town, would she?"

"These are peasants and fishermen.  They aren't responsible for what Dunshandrin has done.  They don't deserve to have their homes burned to the ground."

"If you think you can persuade the dragon of that," Diasa said, "feel free to stand atop the tallest building you can find, and shout at her when she goes by."

 

With Diasa supporting one of his arms and Tolaria supporting the other—and, of course, Prehn sitting on his shoulders—Adaran managed the short, painful walk to the inn.  The dining hall was quiet, the fire doused; three other guests remained, standing near the hearth, speaking in low, urgent tones.  It looked as if they, like others of good sense, were preparing to leave town before the dragon returned.

Tolaria went into the kitchen, while Diasa went upstairs to collect their few belongings.  Adaran sagged onto a bench near the door and waited for them to return.  That seemed his lot these days:  Sitting, waiting, unable to do much for himself.  He looked down at Prehn, sitting next to him, and said, "I'm not the same man I was when I rescued you, am I?"

She shook her head.

"Do you think I'll be better someday?"

Prehn shrugged.  She was only a little girl; how could she know what his fate would be?

Tolaria came back, carrying a few small pouches.  "Most everything is locked away, but I found some old flour to make paste, and a few dried herbs."

"Thank you," he said.  Then:  "So you're the oracle."

"I'm
an
oracle.  There are others."

Redshen had occasionally consulted oracles before they took on exceptionally questionable capers; most of them had been female, and all of them had been old.  Tolaria, on the other hand, was practically a child; if she'd passed her twentieth summer, it had probably been the one that had just ended.  "I didn't expect you to be so young," Adaran said.  Tolaria flushed.  "Now I've embarrassed you."

"No, it's all right.  More than one petitioner told me the same thing while I was at the Crosswaters.  So did the other oracles, when I first arrived."  She looked at the floor.  "They're all dead now, anyway.  Dunshandrin destroyed the complex, burned it to the ground, to test his new weapons."

Feeling foolish, Adaran mumbled an apology.  Tolaria didn't respond.  He thought again of Redshen.  She hadn't gone to the oracle when Dunshandrin's man had come with his offer; the summons had been urgent, there had been no time for such things.

If she
had
gone, what would the oracle have told her?

Diasa came clanking down the stairs, carrying some rolled-up blankets and a sack.  The men near the fire stopped whispering and watched as she went by.  "Ready?" she said.

Tolaria stood.  "Yes."

Diasa glanced over her shoulder as the smallest of the three men approached.  He looked like a merchant, Adaran thought, albeit a rather shabby one; if he saw the man on the street, he would have deemed the risk of cutting his purse not worth the potential reward.  The other two had a thuggish look about them; mercenaries, most likely, hired by the merchant for protection from the likes of Adaran.

When it became obvious that the man was coming to talk to her, Diasa turned and put her hand on her sword; the merchant stopped and said:  "What news from the castle?"

"The castle?" Diasa said.  "The dragon is destroying it."

"What of the trading post?  Is it intact?"

"If it is, it won't be by the time she's finished."

The merchant glanced nervously at his bodyguards.  "Will Lord Dunshandrin compensate me for the loss of my goods?"

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