Dragons Reborn (6 page)

Fidelity kept flying
higher. Soon the air was so thin she could barely breathe. She looked over her
shoulder.

"Are you all
right?" she whispered.

Julian and Roen clung
to her back, shivering in the wind, but they nodded. Flying so high, especially
in human form, was grueling, but she'd have to become but a speck in the night
sky to avoid the firedrakes' eyes.

She made her way
northward until she crossed the city walls below. From up here, even the
firedrakes seemed like mere ants. She kept her mouth shut as she flew, knowing
that a single, errant flicker of fire would shine for miles. She glided, as
silent as she could, barely daring to breathe.

Once she had crossed
the walls, she allowed herself a short breath of relief. She now flew directly above
the city. On the walls, the firedrakes kept staring into the black horizons.
They had not seen her.

She glided high above,
scanning the city for a place to land. Thousands of domed clay huts covered the
hills, huddled together. The streets were narrow between them. She could see no
place to land, and she could not land on a roof without waking up those
sleeping beneath it.

An empty black patch
spread ahead of her, large as an entire town, leading toward the Cured Temple.
The Square of the Spirit, built hundreds of years ago, was large enough for
armies to muster on. There were no huts there, no lanterns, only shadows.

That's where we'll
land.
Fidelity glided forward.
In the very heart of the Commonwealth.

She looked over her
shoulder. "Get ready, boys," she whispered. The two nodded, and
Julian even seemed to be grinning.

Fidelity turned to look
forward again. She was nearing the square now, getting dangerously close to the
light of the Cured Temple. She began to glide down, slowly spiraling closer and
closer to the square, praying with every heartbeat that none saw the shadow
descending in the night.

She was reaching out
her claws, ready to land, when fire blazed, screeches rose, and the night
exploded with light and sound and fury.

 
 
CADE

Cade's heart pounded and his head
spun as they ran upstairs, fleeing the dungeon. He clung to Domi's hand, and
his breath rattled in his lungs.

So many thoughts
swirled through his mind:
Beatrix is my mother. Mercy is my sister. Domi is
alive. I must find Fidelity.

He tightened his lips.
For now, he had to focus on escape.

Gripping his sword, he raced
upstairs. His wounds ached, and his limbs felt rubbery, but the excitement and
fear pounded through him, propelling him onward. They had climbed dozens of
steps when the three guards came clanking down toward them.

Domi and Cade glanced
at each other, then looked forward, screamed, and charged.

The stairwell was
narrow—too narrow to shift in. Their elbows banged together, but they kept
racing upward, swords swinging. One guard cried out and fell back a step. Cade snarled
and thrust his blade, hitting the man's armored belly. He could not pierce the
chain mail, but it distracted the man long enough for Domi to swing her blade,
slicing into the guard's leg.

As he crashed down, the
two other guards raced toward them, drawing their swords. Cade parried a blade.
Domi fought at his side. As another sword swung toward him, Cade ducked and lashed
his own blade, hitting another guard's legs. The man fell, and Cade plunged his
sword downward, stabbing his back. Domi finished off the last guard.

Cade flashed her a
shaky grin. "Not bad, Doms."

She glared. "Less
talking, more running!"

She grabbed his hand
and yanked him forward, and they kept racing upward.

They burst out of the
stairwell into a lavish, marble hall coated with gold, murals, and jewels.

Dozens of guards,
priests, and paladins filled the place.

Oh bloody stars . .
.

Cade shouted, leaped
forward, and shifted into a dragon. An instant later, Domi shifted at his side.

Two dragons, one gold
and one the colors of fire, roared in the jeweled hall of the Temple. Their
tails slammed against gilded columns. Their claws tore into the mosaic floor.
Their horns hit the ceiling, sending gemstones raining down. Their dragonfire
blazed, shrieking across the hall.

Gilt melted. Murals
crackled. And everywhere, men burned. Soldiers screamed and fell. Priests fled,
robes blazing. A paladin tried to race through the fire, to swing his sword,
only for Cade's claws to crash against him, knocking him down. The dragons
moved through the hall, roaring, blasting out fire, their tails swinging into
men.

Shouts rose behind
them. Pain drove into Cade's back, and he yowled. He turned his head to see
soldiers aiming crossbows, firing quarrels. Another shard drove into his
shoulder, crashing through a scale and punching into his flesh. Cade growled
and blasted flame. The jet streamed across the hall and crashed into the
crossbowmen. They fell, screaming, their skin peeling off, their armor melting.

"Cade, to the
exit!" Domi cried, her claws clattering as she raced forward. "Follow!"

He spun back toward her
and lolloped in pursuit, his wings banging against the walls, his horns etching
grooves along the ceiling. Doors rose ahead, and more guards shot crossbows. A
blast from Domi knocked them down, and an instant later, her horns slammed into
the doors. They shattered in a shower of splinters.

The fiery dragon burst
out into the night, beat her wings, and soared. Cade leaped after her and
soared at her side, laughing, his wings billowing with air. The city sprawled
before them, countless huts spreading into the darkness, and beyond them the
forest.

We're free.

Screeches rose all
around. Dark wings shaded the moon. With flashes of scales and roaring flame,
the firedrakes swooped toward them.

 
 
DOMI

She beat her wings, soaring toward
the firedrakes.

"Fight them, Cade!"
she cried and blasted out her flames.

A dozen firedrakes or
more flew toward her, and their own dragonfire cascaded down. Paladins sat in
their saddles, firing crossbows. Domi screamed as a quarrel slammed into her
shoulder, as fire washed her. She bellowed with rage, beat her wings, and
soared higher. Cade flew at her side, a golden dragon, blowing his flames. He
too bled, and one of his wings burned; he beat it madly, extinguishing the fire
against his flank.

More firedrakes kept
rising. Archers ran into the square below, and arrows flew. Domi kept soaring,
but firedrakes swooped from above, blocking her passage, surrounding her, and
she knew she was going to die.

She growled.
So I go
down fighting.

Bleeding, burnt, dying,
Domi lashed her claws, snapped her jaws, blazed out her fire. A firedrake
screeched above her. Domi's claws tore open its belly, and its entrails
spilled. A paladin fired his crossbow. Domi's dragonfire washed over his steel,
heating the armor and melting the flesh within. Another drake swooped toward
her, and she bit deeply, tearing out its neck, tasting its blood. Cade fought
at her side, roaring, blood on his fangs, his fire blasting out. They could not
win this fight, Domi knew, but they could make a last stand to be sung of for
centuries.

Domi rose higher,
crashing through the enemies. Her tail slammed into a rider, knocking him off
his saddle. Her fire and claws drove firedrakes aside. She soared into open sky
high above the city, opened her jaws wide, and bellowed out only one word, the
word that meant everything, the word the city needed to hear, that she needed
to shout with all her rage and pain one last time.

"Requiem!"

Cade soared at her
side, several scales missing from his back, several quarrels sunken into him,
but he too blasted out his fire, and he too roared the cry.

"Requiem!"

The firedrakes
screeched all around, and the riders shouted, and more of the beasts kept
soaring, but from the east Domi heard it: the cry answered. Again. Again.

"Requiem!
Requiem! Requiem!"

Domi gasped,
soared higher.
Who—

She stared toward
the east, and her eyes watered.

Three dragons came
flying toward the battle, not firedrakes but noble dragons of Requiem.

"Fidelity!"
Domi cried out. "Julian! Roen!"

The three charged
forth and blasted out their dragonfire.

The firedrakes
surrounding Domi and Cade howled and burned. Their riders fell, and hope filled
Domi, and her tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Requiem!"
Domi cried, weeping, calling out the forbidden name, letting all hear, all see
the glory of her fallen kingdom.

The cries echoed
in the night. Requiem! Requiem!

The song of
dragons in her heart, Domi blew more fire, hitting a drake, and swooped, her
claws tearing at another. Her comrades fought around her, four other dragons of
Requiem, proud and strong.

A scream shattered
the battle.

Flames, blue with
heat, showered skyward, and the city shook.

With a deafening
cry, with light and heat and roaring sound, the great firedrake Felesar soared
up from the Temple—the largest of the beasts—and upon his back rode Mercy.

The paladin's face
was white with rage, and her eyes burned, two blue pools of rage. Twenty more
firedrakes rose around her, emerging from the tunnels below the Temple, and her
voice stormed across the city.

"Slay the
weredragons!"

Dozens of flaming
jets blazed toward Domi. Dozens of arrows flew, and the firedrakes closed in.

Domi snarled and flew
to battle, to blood, to death.

"Domi!"
Cade grabbed her tail and tugged her. "Come on!"

The young golden
dragon shot eastward, dragging Domi with him across the sky.

"Domi, fly
with us!" Fidelity cried ahead, a blue dragon blasting out fire. She,
Julian, and Roen were driving forward, breaking through the noose of firedrakes.

"I won't flee
from battle!" Domi shouted.

Cade growled and
bit right into her haunches. "Yes you will. Now move it!"

Domi yowled and
flew, Cade chomping at her backside. They shot forward. Firedrakes charged
toward her. The dragons blew their fire and lashed their claws. One firedrake's
teeth dug into her shoulder, and Domi yipped and swung her tail, digging its
spikes into the creature's flanks. An arrow shot through her wing, and she
cried out in pain. Cade flew above her, blasting fire, clearing a path forward.

Domi roared and
flew with him, biting and clawing, knocking the enemies aside.

I won't let
that damn boy live while I die!

Together, the
fiery and golden dragons burst forward, breaking through the ring of
firedrakes. The other three dragons flew ahead.

The five dragons,
perhaps the last Vir Requis in the world, flew over the dark city of Nova Vita.
Behind them, a hundred firedrakes or more roared and flew in pursuit, their
flames lighting the night.

 
 
KORVIN

The two
dragons, gray and red, perched atop the citadel's highest tower and gazed down
at the sprawling land of stone and iron.

"Gosh
Ha'ar," said Amity, her red scales burning bright in the sunset as if
aflame. Her eyes shone. "Thousands of years ago, the ancient civilization of
Goshar fell upon this mountainside." Fire flicked between Amity's teeth. "Now
Gosh Ha'ar, the Heart of the Horde, is mine to rule."

Korvin
grunted, his claws digging into the parapets. "It's one city, Amity, and
you're not yet crowned. The Horde is vast and covers much of Terra. Not all
will accept your rule, even if you did cut off the old abina's head."

She
turned her scaly head toward him, and her jaw opened in a smile. "They
will. Gosh Ha'ar will swear its loyalty to me tonight. This city, this mountain,
this citadel—they will be mine. And soon all the Horde will swear its
allegiance to me, Abini Amity." Smoke blasted out of her nostrils. "And
then Beatrix will beg me for mercy . . . mercy I will not grant."

Korvin's
belly clenched; it felt full of rocks.

And
so Amity, the new woman I love, the woman I made love to in the bowels of the
mountains . . . will fight Beatrix, the woman I loved and spurned.
His
chest felt too tight.
And only one will survive this.

He
gazed across the landscape. He and Amity stood on the tower of Sin Hanar, the
great citadel that rose from the mountain. The fortress was the largest Korvin
had ever seen. Clusters of towers rose in a ring around the mountain, connected
with thick stone walls. Within this shell rose a second layer of walls, thrice
as high, topped with parapets and massive towers whose height challenged even
the Cured Temple far north across the sea. This citadel was old; its bricks
were craggy, and many weeds grew between them, and men spoke of ghosts that
haunted the halls. Two thousand years ago, the last survivors of the Goshar had
built this fortress to protect their flickering civilization, yet their
fortress had become their tomb. Today the Horde, this great army of many
nations, ruled here.

Korvin
turned his gaze to look down the mountains. Buried deep within them lay the
arena where they had fought Behemoth. Korvin hoped to never enter that place
again. The rocky, barren slopes stretched thousands of feet downward. The
mountain range spread across the land like a raised scar, separating the northern
desert and the southern arable lands where rivers flowed. In a mountain pass,
Korvin could still see remnants of Ancient Goshar: a few chipped walls and the
capitals of columns rising from the dust, hints of the civilization that had
once ruled the path from desert to grasslands.

Across the southern grasslands now spread the tent city of Gosh Ha'ar,
sister to the northern bastion of Hakar Teer on the coast. A towering sandstone
archway led into the city, soaring as high as a palace, its crest gilded and
topped with statues of warriors and dragons. Beyond spread countless tents and
dirt roads. Hundreds of thousands lived here: warriors from many nations in
iron and bronze armor, griffins with silver helms and leather saddles, and salvanae
with long beards and chinking scales. Many women and children lived here too,
for in the Horde, there was no distinction between the military and civilian
life. All here served the Horde. All here were warriors, from the gruff swordsmen
to the women whose wombs bore future fighters.