Spellbreaker (65 page)

“Lea,” Dhrun yelled, “what in the Creator's name is happening?”

“It's a trap, and if my mother has already left we—”

Just then Francesca—blessedly still in human form—rushed onto the roof. Seeing her mother gave Leandra a sudden idea. “Dhrun, take your Nika manifestation.”

“What—”

“Do it!” she barked, grabbed his hand, and sprinted toward Francesca. “Mother!” Leandra yelled.

Francesca had been running toward the western edge of the roof. Now she stopped and looked back at Leandra.

“Mother, it's a trap!” Leandra cried.

“Your father's up there!”

Leandra grabbed her hand. “It's a trap; the empress is in one of those ships! She's waiting for you to fly up there so she can cast her anti-dragon spell on you.”

“The empress is on that warship.” Francesca pointed to the harbor. “We saw her with the Emerald. She created that explosion.”

“That wasn't her. That was a pyromantic spy. I know. I became that spy when I was in my fit.”

“Your what?”

“I nearly died. My consciousness expanded and I became the city. I was the spy as he cast incendiary text all around that building. He detonated it to make it look like that woman on the warship is Vivian casting some spell. But it's not Vivian. It's just some tall woman with black hair.”

Francesca shook her head. “That doesn't make any sense.” The roar of more cannon fire came down from the mountain. Francesca tried to pull her hand free of Leandra's. “Nico's up there!”

The galleys had sailed farther out into the bay and were now exchanging fire with the city's gods only intermittently.

“Mother, no!” Leandra yelled. “There's a bunker under the Pavilion and there are the two war gods. Look!” She pointed as a plume of fire flew up from the mountain. The airships climbed and scattered. “Dad's going to have to live or die without you.”

Anger flashed across Francesca's face. “You heartless—”

“That's not it this time. This isn't a real attack. It's a trap to lure you close enough to the empress, who is in one of those airships.”

A shocking blast rolled down from the volcano as three airships fired their cannons at once. Half of the Pavilion collapsed and slid like an avalanche down the volcano's slope.

The sight produced in Leandra a trill of fear. Francesca cried out and wrenched her hand from her daughter's.

“Mother, no!” Leandra cried as Francesca started toward the roof's edge. Her mother's form blazed with crimson language as she began to change.

Leandra felt something inside of her break. She glanced back and saw that Dhrun had taken her Nika manifestation and was watching her with wide, dark eyes. Leandra grasped Dhrun's hand tighter and yanked her forward.

When Leandra turned back to the east, she saw her mother's broad auburn wings spreading above, her powerful hindlegs kicking down to launch her skyward. Leandra's heart filled with fear as she saw her mother escaping, but then Francesca's long tail whipped overhead and Leandra reached out.

One of Leandra's hands caught her mother's tail, while the other still held Dhrun's. Leandra sent her mind racing through her mother's prose, deftly editing out her draconic nature but leaving enough of her text that she could remain a substantial construct.

Leandra tried to preserve the separated draconic construct. She tried to protect it. But the world had become a blaze of crimson language. For the briefest of moments, Leandra had an intimation of death, her mother's and her own, the type of silence they might create if they were forever no more.

But then Leandra was on her back. She tried to sit up, but the world was spinning too violently. Dhrun was somewhere beside her. At last, Leandra regained her sense of the upright.

Francesca, human again, was at the edge of the roof, kneeling over and pressing a hand to her chest as if in great pain.

Leandra went to her, covered her with the tattered remains of the clothes she had been wearing.

Francesca did not seem to notice.

“Mother, you're all right. You're all right.”

When Francesca opened her eyes, Leandra saw in them the longing to become something which she never would again. Her mother was no longer a dragon. Leandra could see the realization setting in. But then, Francesca's eyes looked past her and up into the sky.

Leandra followed her gaze and saw a single airship, diving straight for them. Boulders leapt up from the city toward the ship, forcing her pilot to dodge and weave. This must be the airship that carried the empress.

Vivian had seen Francesca's transformation and had waited for her to attack. But now that it was apparent that Francesca would not take the bait, Vivian was taking a risk.

The airship dove under a boulder and then pulled out of its dive. With impressive speed, the ship tucked itself into a barrel roll. Leandra glimpsed a figure wearing black.

In Leandra's arms, Francesca cried out as if in surprise and turned away to cover her eyes. But Leandra had not seen anything happen. A boulder clipped the airship's stern and sent it spiraling east. The airship barely pulled out of the dive and avoided smashing into the city and then began to rise.

Leandra realized that the city was resounding with cheering. Out on the bay, the war galleys were sailing away. Above the volcano, the air fleet had broken off and was flying north.

Francesca groaned.

“Mother what is it, what happened.”

“From the
Queen's Lance
, it was Vivian's Numinous spell. It's dazzled my vision.”

She looked down and saw that her mother's eyes were flitting about randomly. She pinched them shut.

“But the empire is retreating,” Leandra explained. “We're safe. The galleys and the airships are already away from the city.”

“Is Nicodemus still alive?”

Leandra looked up to the ruined Pavilion of the Sky. “I don't know.”

“Am I still a dragon?”

Leandra forced herself to look at Francesca and said, “No.”

Leandra watched her mother, who had known such powerful grace. Her face became a mask of misery.

 

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

When Vivian landed on deck, she exhaled in relief. Her hierophant bowed to her and then, using his jumpchute, flew back up to the
Queen's Lance
.

Since they had left Chandralu, a strong west wind had begun to blow and the airships now hovered easily above the war galleys.

“Pass the word for Magister Akomma,” Vivian said to the nearest sailor. “I'll meet him in my cabin.” But when she hurried belowdecks and opened the cabin door, she found Lotannu standing by her desk. He turned to her with an expression of icy control.

“I know, it was stupid,” she said while closing the door. “For some reason, Francesca wasn't taking the bait. I had to try.”

Lotannu only stared at her.

“I came through it without a scratch.”

“A boulder struck the back of the
Queen's Lance
. One foot farther forward, and that rock would have smashed you flat.”

“But it didn't.”

“You promised.”

She stood up straighter. “Magister, there are risks that have to be taken for the good of the empire, and—”

“Don't give me that empress nonsense now.” His hands balled into fists, and his voice was filled with exhausted anger. “I've known you too damn long.”

“I…” she started to say but was too shocked to finish.

“We started this together forty years ago,” he said, “and unless you insist on finding a way of committing suicide, I mean to finish it together.”

“I'm still alive; it wasn't suicide.”

“You had no right to take such a risk.”

“I am the empress.”

“Then think of the empire!”

“Creator damn it, I was thinking of the empire!”

His voice quavered slightly. “Then you have to think about me.”

And there it was. The truth she could not rebut.

He folded his arms and turned to the windows.

She let the silence stretch before saying, “I am sorry.”

“Did it work? Did you deconstruct Francesca?”

“I'm not sure. It was strange … she disappeared right before I cast the spell. I'm not sure what happened.”

“There've been no reported sightings of Francesca since then. I suggest we declare the attack a success and claim we've wounded Francesca. It will help morale and blunt the criticism of Captain Alarcon.”

“Why should criticism fall on him?”

“He nearly killed our empress.”

“On my orders.”

“The air marshals would have trouble blaming the empress.”

Vivian signed. “Very well. Do make the official announcement. Unless Francesca's somehow hiding her draconic nature, our situation is excellent. They won't be able to hold off the air fleet. Our next attack should crack the city.”

“I've already given the preparation orders.”

She went to stand next to him. “Thank you, Lotannu.” When he nodded but did not look at her, she said, “And I am sorry. I will think of you.”

He turned to her, and she could see just the slightest easing of the tension around his eyes. He nodded again. “I'll oversee the preparations.”

“Good.” She nodded. “This is how the War of Disjunction will end.”

*   *   *

“Okay, your turn,” Ancestor Spider said.

“You want to play again?” Nicodemus answered as he waited in the bunker's darkness. Above him hung several tons of rubble that blocked his exit. The thump and scrape of the war gods clearing stone and wood came from above. They'd been at it for hours. Nicodemus had written several protective spells in the chthonic language to shield him from falling rocks.

“Oh, you're tired of this game? Maybe there's another game you'd like to play?” Ancestor Spider asked with frank enthusiasm. “Something with higher stakes?”

“No, no,” Nicodemus answered quickly. “No, Goddess, I don't want to play any game like that. We can keep playing this one.”

She produced her creaking laugh.

Nicodemus sighed. “Okay, I got one.”

“Is it alive?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a spider?”

“Do you really think I'd choose a spider when playing with a spider goddess?”

“You've done more foolish things.”

“Like what?”

“Do you really want to talk about your personal life right now?”

Nicodemus was searching his brain for a witty remark when one of the rocks near him shifted. Something fell. “Hey!” Nicodemus shouted.

“Keep shouting,” the Trimuril said and then went silent. He hoped she was directing the war god about how to dig him out without crushing him.

Nicodemus yelled.

The priests and pilgrims had hidden in a different tunnel of the bunker. The Trimuril reported that most had survived but a partial collapse of the tunnel had killed three. Nicodemus had not thought to ask how many of his hydromancer guards had survived. As he continued to shout, he prayed that they were all safe. Once he got out of this pit, he had to hurry back down to Chandralu.

A boulder shifted. Nicodemus moved farther under his protective chthonic spells, but the only thing that fell on him was tropical sunlight. He looked up at the stony war god's draconic face staring down.

“What was it then?” the Trimuril creaked in his ear. “What creature were you thinking of?”

“I can only give you yes or no answers.”

“Don't be stuffy when I just saved your life.”

Nicodemus smiled up at the sky and said, “A storm petrel.”

*   *   *

From her window, Leandra watched a windy evening replace the day's blaze. After the empire had retreated, the citizens of Chandralu had taken to the streets to continue praying. Even now, Leandra could hear a priest sermonizing.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. “Come in, Ellen,” Leandra called while pouring a cup of tea.

The screen slid back. “You wanted to see me, Lady Warden?”

“Yes, thank you, Ellen. Would you like tea?”

Ellen eyed the cup in Leandra's hand. “I would, but perhaps you would let me pour my own?”

“Oh, come now, I poisoned this cup in a very mild way. You would hardly feel a thing as you died in agony.” She took a sip to show that she was being facetious.

“Thoughtful of you, Lady Warden, but I have very specific preferences about how I take my agony.”

“And how do you take it?” Leandra asked while motioning to use the tea service.

“Mostly with bad humor, irony, and bitter complaint.”

“Sounds delightful.”

“It's the source of my sunny personality,” she said, deadpan, and set about brewing her own cup of tea.

“How is my mother?”

Ellen looked at Leandra before returning to the tea. “The transformation you effected has left her fatigued. But, as far as I can tell, she seems to be in good health.”

“Does she understand that I had to deconstruct her draconic nature to save her from Vivian?”

“Perhaps that is a question she should answer.”

“Do you understand that I had to do it?”

“I reserve judgment.”

Leandra sipped her tea. “Have you had any time to ask around about those who might be speaking against me?”

“In fact, I have just returned from the Infirmary. I heard one or two rumors about your being Los Reborn. It seems several notable citizens have met with the Sacred Regent. At least two of them are sympathetic to the empire's interpretation that you are a demonic terror. No one knows what was said in that meeting, but there haven't been any official statements of dissent. However, after driving off the empire's last attack, the city's spirits have risen.”

Leandra nodded. “Thank you, Ellen, very helpful. Did you get a sense as to how widely held sympathies for the empire might be?”