The Confliction (Book Three of the Dragoneers Saga) (Dragoneer Saga) (13 page)

Linux actually felt Rolph’s head tingle, but knew he was feeling something through the subdued ethereal, something that pertained to him, not Rolph. He knew where the king was drinking, and ran as fast as Rolph’s fit body would carry him. When he burst into the Ornery Ogre, he nearly bowled over the witch and the king. He was taken aback when he saw his own tattooed visage glowing. It was staggering, as if he were staring at his twin brother, or into a reflecting glass. But he was not as surprised as he was when King Blanchard shrugged off the witch and attacked him.

He’d never fought himself before, but throughout his life he had fought Lanxe a score of times. He didn’t want to damage his body any more than it had already been hurt, but he knew he could make short work of it if he had to.

The two of them went rolling into the slushy street like vagabonds. Linux came up into a grappler’s stance, and when his thin, frail body gained its feet, he leapt at it.

“Stop it, man,” Linux yelled through clenched teeth. “What’s gotten into you?”

“’Tis coming,” the king replied in a strange voice as he darted in.

The king rolled left, then quickly right, but he wasn’t nearly as fast or strong as Rolph. It only took a moment for Linux to pin the riled king who was wearing his skin.

“What’s coming?” the witch asked as she loomed in. “What is it?”

“Worse,” was all King Blanchard could manage before his head fell limply to the side.

Lanxe’s forehead was glowing, too. So were the half dozen red and blue robes who had escaped the temple. They were feeling the same commanding sensation that had taken hold of Zahrellion and the king, only they were following the strange direction as if they were marionettes. They left the warmth of the cottage they had found abandoned after the temple was attacked, and started into the mountain forest like drones.

Two of them didn’t even bother to put on cold weather gear, and they soon fell away to freeze to death as the others trudged mindlessly over a ridge into a neighboring valley.

Lanxe tried to resist the feeling compelling him, but it was no use. He led the others to a large opening, and into the darkness they went. Light spells cast by command of an unknown puppet-master flared forth from a few of the druids, then they were standing before a huge, slightly curving piece of polished steel.

It was a different part of the star ship, Lanxe realized, and a feeling of great anticipation flared in his head. He began inspecting the exposed area of steel with a mind that wasn’t his own. When his eyes saw a thin line in the metal, a distant hope kindled to life in whatever was controlling him. He was compelled to stick his finger in a small, perfectly formed hole and pull. A door the size of a book opened, revealing three round knobs. He pushed the top one in, and a loud, straining grind sounded. A moment later, the rock started to crumble in a way that showed that this was no natural cave. A huge panel opened down toward them like the draw bridge on King’s Island. The druids had to scramble to get out of the eroding structure. Once back in the stark white of day, they could see it was a huge door. A dank bitter stench roiled out with a cloud of rust-colored dust that stained the snow orange where it settled. The door panel obliterated most of the cavern and ended up forming a massive ramp. The druids who weren’t crippled by the crumbling rock were overrun by the horde of hungry Sarax that came spilling forth.

Lanxe stood helplessly as the Sarax closed over him. He and the others were savagely torn apart and eaten before he even had the chance to think.

Jenka saw a flash of scarlet in the distance and somehow knew that it was Crimzon. There was no other explanation for seeing blood-colored dragon scales at ground level over on the far ridge. Now that he was following the movement, he saw a slight pillar of steam evaporating over the great fire wyrm.

He scanned the sky and saw no lingering Sarax. Thousands of them had burst out of the weakened encasement when it finally gave way, but after that first day they hadn’t been seen at all.

See if he is in need,
Jenka told Blaze through the ethereal. Had he and Jade been circling any farther away from their castle’s magical field, the communication would have been impossible. Crimzon, though, had a powerful field of his own, and responded before Blaze did.

I am onlyss in sneed of yon ssstable,
Crimzon bellowed.
The infernal sssnow is maddening on my ssscales.

It issss,
hissed Blaze.
Itchesss.

What stable?
asked Jenka.

Crimzon didn’t respond. He just kept on lumbering through the snow, like some massive four-clawed snake. There were huge patches of pink scaleless flesh all along his lower spine and around his wing muscles. After watching him for a while, Jenka wasn’t so sure the century-old dragon’s wings were ruined. In fact, when he came to a deep ravine he had to cross, the huge wyrm leapt into flight and glided the few hundred feet across. He landed and went back to walking, though, and it looked as if the short flight had pained him greatly.

When Crimzon finally made to approach the castle, he moved through a gap in the landscape that Jenka had never noticed before, but which now seemed perfectly obvious. There was a hissing snap, the sound of one of the vanishing wall force-fields being removed. Jade carried them around, and Jenka shook his head at the fact that none of them had ever noticed how the lowest portion of the structure was built.

There was an opening just big enough to allow Crimzon through comfortably.

Jenka had Jade land and then he slid to the ground to look inside. He was feeling pretty low and figured that Crimzon’s silence was a sign of his disappointment. They had sworn to stick together and stand against the Sarax, but now the Dragoneers were scattered, some of them terribly wounded. They had failed, as far as Jenka could tell. The witches said it wasn’t really Zah’s doing, but it was a Dragoneer who had just breached the encasement and set the rest of the Sarax free. Jenka felt responsible.

He was afraid, but when Crimzon’s intense gaze found him he saw a sparkle of something that he felt to be hope. He also saw sadness. He noticed there were two huge saddles lying in the corner and realized that this was once really was Crimzon’s stable.

Thes drones awakened mores than the sSarax,
said Crimzon.
Andoal hasss awakened, too. You musst ssseek him to the north.

Who is Andoal? Where in the north?

He isss a Mountonian,
Crimzon explained.
The last great mountain in the northern range. He well help usss, if you assk for him by name.

What is a Mountonian?

Thatsss youllss have to see for yourself. Buts you and Jades must make hastess.
The big dragon’s chuckle seemed forced.
Blazes and I canss watch over the frost wyrmss and the castless. There iss no reasons for the ssSarax to returns to the crater now.

Knowing that Crimzon wasn’t disappointed in him didn’t make Jenka feel any better. Nevertheless, he and Jade stayed around only long enough to double check their saddle strappings and load up some gear. After that they were winging north, just as Crimzon told them to.

Aikira wanted desperately to go to Indale and seek out the man she loved, but sense kept her from it. She’d left Weldon Gimmerwick the previous spring, after she met Golden, but she would always love him. Now spring was turning again, but it wasn’t green growth she was seeing around her, it was cobble gutters full of blood. She wanted to be on her dragon’s back, not trudging around Delton on foot. Things had to be done, though. If the Outlands were to be defended, then the Dragoneers needed to work with the witches and the stubborn druid king, or whatever he was.

Aikira didn’t like the man they called King Blanchard. She did like the guardsman who was always at his side, though. Rolph was clever and funny. She didn’t understand why Mysterian and the other witches seemed to despise him. It was for him that she was out gathering certain supplies that he said they needed. She had no idea why he wanted a small tusk of ivory and a full set of carving tools, but she was returning with them now.

The common area of the inn Queen Alvazina and her witches had commandeered was in full disarray when Aikira stepped into the warm, smoky room. There was King Blanchard laid out on a table, surrounded by hovering old crones and a huge road warden.

The road wardens were the justice of the Outlands, and the man’s presence sent warning shivers up Aikira’s spine. They answered to none save for the four councils of elected and appointed officials who ran each of the Outland cities. Delton was the center of population, and leaders from the other three cities were all gathered there to discuss the increasing Sarax attacks.

“He’s a big bastard,” Rikky said, drawing Aikira’s attention away from the table. “Do the wardens really hang people from tower poles?”

“They do if they’re found guilty of murder,” she answered. “In Indale there was only one hanging when I was growing up. A man took a girl into the woods and had his way. He dangled until the crows picked him clean. I’d bet my boots that his bones are still in a pile underneath, unless the wolves carried them away.”

“The ink!” Rolph exclaimed suddenly. Aikira and half the room looked at him. He was standing by King Blanchard with one finger tracing the mahogany colored triangle on the king’s current head and the other pointing in the air triumphantly.

“Linux is a madman,” Rikky observed casually. “But I like him.”

“Rolph?” Aikira asked.

“Linux is in Rolph’s body.” Rikky shrugged, as if explaining would be next to impossible. “Linux is too powerful to hang from a pole for murder, though.”

“If it is the ink, we be in heaps of it,” Mysterian chimed in from the doorway. “Lanxe and the rest of them druids’ll have been affected, too.”

Rikky looked at Aikira and she knew what he was thinking before he said it.

“Zahrellion has those tattoos.” Rikky was suddenly worried for her.

“What were you compelled to do?” Mysterian loomed in with Queen Alvazina over Linux’s body. “If we know what it’s after, maybe we can thwart it.”