The Copper Promise (41 page)

‘Come to check on your stowaway?’

‘We’re nearly there.’ Wydrin paused in the doorway. She wasn’t sure why she’d come down here at all. Perhaps she wanted to see a friendly face, although she doubted Gallo counted as that any more; his face was more likely to cause nightmares. ‘Do you eat? I mean, do you still eat?’

Gallo shrugged.

‘I can put food in my mouth and swallow, if that’s what you mean. Can’t really taste it any more – or at least, the tastes don’t appear to matter. Does that make sense?’

‘Not really.’

‘When I first crawled my way out of the Citadel and realised I was free of Y’Ruen, I went straight to a tavern. It was being looted at the time, so I found a crate of wine and started drinking. Good, Istrian wine it was, rich and dark.’ He coughed, a dry rattle in his chest. ‘I drank the entire crate, one bottle after another. I wanted to get to that stage of drunk where you can’t remember your own name. I wanted to erase the memory of everything that had happened inside that damned place, but no matter how much I drank, I stayed sober. I started to feel bloated and strange, yet even my stomach wouldn’t heave it up. I was inert.’ Gallo shrugged. ‘I can’t get drunk, and I derive no pleasure from food.’

Wydrin frowned.

‘That sounds awful.’

‘It is,’ agreed Gallo. ‘I hope there will be an end to it soon. You say we are close?’

‘There’s a fishing village not far from here. We’ll put in there, then you and me and no doubt the two sell-sword idiots from
The
Briny Wolf
will see what the situation is in Relios. That’s assuming—’

A series of shouts from above caught the words in her throat. A ship was always ringing with shouted commands, but these were tinged with panic. She lifted her head, listening for them to come again.

‘Dragon!’ came the call. ‘’Tis a bloody dragon!’

Wydrin shot back up the stairs, with Gallo close on her heels. When she reached the deck she saw men and women running for the port side. She joined them, her heart in her throat. At first she could see nothing, just the same rugged cliffs they’d been sailing along for days, and then a huge, graceful shape appeared above the rocks. It was the dragon, sleek and fast and impossibly big. The wings alone would dwarf
The
Sea King’s Terror
, and the long tail tapered to a wicked point. Her dark blue scales glittered under the sun like a wall of sapphires. She banked, throwing up one fibrous wing and turning back inland. Wydrin felt a puff of wind brush against her face, and was certain it was from the dragon’s passing. They saw her for perhaps five or six seconds, and then she was out of sight.

The crew stood, stunned, on the decks. Wydrin spotted Jarath to her right, and grabbed hold of his arm. Now they were here and they had seen the beast, it felt like they were sitting targets.

‘I think we should move,’ she said quietly. When he didn’t respond she tugged sharply on his sleeve. ‘Get the ships out further into the water and keep our heads down.’

He looked at her then, his eyes very white and wide.

‘Let’s do that,’ he said. He began shouting orders to his crew, and signals were passed to
The
Briny Wolf
. Wydrin felt the ship turning under her feet, and she allowed herself some small measure of relief. Gallo was standing next to her, his eyes riveted to the horizon.

‘Do you think it’ll come back?’

Gallo didn’t answer. When she touched his elbow she found he was trembling slightly all over; it made her think of a mouse caught under the gaze of a hungry cat, too terrified to run. Wydrin glanced over to
The
Briny Wolf
and caught sight of Draken and Errine on the deck, pointing excitedly at the horizon.
They’re pleased, at least
, she thought, although she had no idea what they hoped to achieve against such a creature.

She grabbed one of the men bustling past her.

‘Hoy, Bill! Do you have bows? Any weapons like that?’ She already knew
The
Sea King
had no cannons; such weaponry slowed down a raider.

Bill had gone very pale under his bristling beard.

‘Aye, we keep a few in the armoury. Don’t get used much, ’cause the damp tends to warp the wood.’

‘Get them,’ said Wydrin. ‘Bring them all up here. We don’t know—’

There was an ear-splitting roar. Wydrin felt every hair stand on end, and for a moment she was the mouse too terrified to move. The dragon appeared once more over the edge of the cliffs, her giant maw open to reveal row upon row of jagged, yellow teeth. Wydrin thought she could have counted every one, if she’d had a mind to.

‘Don’t come over here,’ she whispered. ‘Just carry on with your business, no need to take any notice of us.’

But the dragon turned again and with a few flaps of her enormous wings she was heading straight for them.

‘Arrows!’ screamed Wydrin. ‘Whatever you’ve got, fire it up there!’

The dragon swooped down across the water, dragging the end of its tail across the tips of the waves. The enormous head lowered for a moment, and for one absurd second Wydrin thought Y’Ruen was just having a drink, and then the terrible jaws opened and a gout of blood-coloured flame exploded forth.

‘Take cover!’ came several cries from around the deck. The initial fireball passed harmlessly between the two ships, rousing a hot wave of steam in its wake. Y’Ruen flew back up into the air until she was poised directly above them. Somehow Wydrin found Jarath amongst the chaos.

‘How fast can you move this ship?’

‘I’ve men on every oar.’

They both tensed as the dragon roared again. There was a hollow clatter as a handful of arrows struck the creature’s scales and bounced harmlessly away, and then Y’Ruen opened her mouth and another boiling column of flame shot down, right into the centre of
The
Briny Wolf
.

Wydrin heard her brother shouting, heard the screams of the men and women on the other ship. She elbowed her way to the side rail and watched as the smaller ship was engulfed in flames. The sails went up first, like a ragged set of orange flags, and soon the deck was alight too. Men and women ran from the fire, some of them with their hair and clothes already catching, while others were blackened figures, lost to the inferno. She saw that Draken and Errine were still there, and she thought Errine had produced a cross-bow. Others were already abandoning ship.

‘We have to get out of here,’ she cried to no one in particular.

The dragon circled once more, a sinuous shape in the heavens, and dived at the smaller ship. The bulk of the monster obscured her view, but when Y’Ruen rose again Draken was nowhere to be seen, and the dragon’s teeth were working busily. Its jaws snapped and its neck pulsed, just like a heron eating a particularly large fish. There was a moment’s pause as the creature finished its meal before unleashing another blast of flame at
The
Briny Wolf
. This time there was no space untouched by fire, and within seconds the ship was reduced to a fiercely burning bonfire. The dragon circled above them, triumphant.

‘Fetch the ropes,’ said Jarath. ‘Get those people out of the water.’

Wydrin ran to his side.

‘You have to go! Leave them!’

‘Wydrin—’

‘Now!’ She pointed wildly to the dragon above them. It seemed fascinated by the burning ship. ‘They will have to fend for themselves, Jarath. I’m sorry, but if we don’t get moving now we’re as good as dead.’

There was sorrow in her brother’s dark eyes, and it broke her heart. Reluctantly he gave the order to pull out, with all speed, and every man and woman leapt to action. Many of them would have had friends, even relatives, on board the
Wolf
, and now they were fleeing to save their own lives. Wydrin rubbed a hand over her face, suddenly very tired.

With every hand on deck they gained speed rapidly, turning and heading out away from the coast of Relios. Wydrin kept her eyes on Y’Ruen, hoping that the dragon would want to stay close to the land where her brood army were camped. The dragon roared again, and turned her enormous head towards their swiftly escaping ship.

No, no, no.

It was too late.

The mouth opened, a yawning furnace ringed with teeth, and this time Wydrin saw the ball of fire coming directly towards them. She threw herself to the deck, wincing as all the wind was knocked out of her lungs, and the fireball passed directly overhead. There was a pause filled with the screams of men and women unable to get out of its path, and then everything was light and heat.

Wydrin was thrown back against the rail, her head colliding painfully with the wooden beams, her throat full of black smoke. When she opened her eyes again there was chaos. The fireball had just missed the main sail and licked along the deck, leaving a trail of flames and debris. The crew who hadn’t simply been blown to bits in the initial explosion were now screaming as the ruby flames consumed their clothes, their hair, and their bodies. Wydrin scrambled to her feet, stumbling as her head spun.

‘Water! Get some buckets and get that bloody fire out!’

She risked a glance upwards and saw the dragon circling again.

‘And keep on those oars, I want to see every oar moving!’

The crew who were still able ran to fetch buckets, and soon there was a soothing slosh and hiss as they worked to put out the rapidly spreading fire, while clouds of black smoke rolled across the deck, obscuring some of the mayhem.
Our only hope is to get away and pray that she doesn’t follow.

And then an extraordinary thing happened. The dragon banked away from the swiftly moving
Sea King’s Terror
, and flew back to the remains of
The
Briny Wolf
. As Wydrin watched, the creature circled the water around the merrily burning wreck, occasionally darting its head down to pick something out of the water. Its jaws snapped, crunching and swallowing.

She’s eating the dead
, thought Wydrin.
Or picking off the survivors.
Her stomach turned over. Perhaps the small shower of arrows they’d provided had been enough to dissuade her, or the tasty meal now floating in the ocean was too tempting; either way, it was their chance to flee.

‘Out to sea!’ she hollered behind her. ‘Keep her moving!’ The ship sped on and out into the deeper waters, and still the dragon didn’t pursue. Perhaps they would make it. Perhaps they would be safe.

‘You bitch,’ muttered Wydrin, watching the dragon as it retreated. ‘I swear by the Graces I will have your blood.’

‘She will not leave her brood for long,’ said Gallo. He was by her side again. His face was almost a pasty green in the daylight, and smudged with smoke. The eyes he turned on her were full of despair. ‘Your brother—’

Wydrin spun round. She hadn’t heard his voice since the explosion.

‘Jarath?’

They took her to him.

Bill and another man she knew vaguely as Edvard had pulled him clear of the fires, and now he lay on a blanket in his cabin. The blast had hit him on his left, and the skin on that side of his body had been crisped away, leaving raw flesh beneath. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes blank with pain. His hair was gone entirely, leaving a blistered and bloody scalp.

‘He’s lucky to be alive.’ Bettany was the ship’s medic, a sour-faced man with an ugly scar twisting across his right cheek. ‘Most would be dead from the pain already. I’ve given him some poppy milk for it.’

‘Lucky?’ said Wydrin. Her voice sounded distant and odd in her own ears. She wondered if her hearing was damaged from the explosion, or if part of her simply didn’t want to connect with what was happening.

‘Aye. What good it’ll do him, though, I don’t know. It would be kinder to—’

‘No,’ said Wydrin. ‘No.’ She sank to her knees and took hold of her brother’s good hand. The other was little more than a blackened claw. ‘Not that.’

‘It hurts me to say it, miss, it does.’ Bill spoke up from the back of the small room. His voice was muffled, as though he were holding back tears. ‘But it’d be the best thing for him. He won’t live long enough to reach land, and we can’t go back to Relios.’

‘Even if we reached land safe enough there’s nowt anyone can do for him. I’ll give him some more of the milk,’ said Bettany gruffly. ‘He’ll know nothing about it.’

‘I said
no
.’ Wydrin squeezed her brother’s hand in her own. She entwined her fingers through his, marvelling at their warm brown tones against her own pale skin. ‘I know someone who can help him. Someone who can heal him.’ Bending her head she pressed her lips to Jarath’s hand and kissed it. Then she placed it carefully back on the blanket and stood up. ‘We need to sail for the Nowhere Isles. To Whittenfarne.’

Y’Ruen spread wings the colour of twilight and flew up through the cloud cover, revelling in the cold wisps of vapour as they curled against her scales. Her wings tore through the cloud, scattering and tearing, until she raised her head into a clear blue sky. The air was thin here, and cold, although she barely registered that; it was nothing compared to the boiling furnace she carried within her.

What is in the mind of a dragon? What does a god think about?

They were moving beyond the red lands of Relios now, and the clay-ridden earth had given way to plains full of hardy grass. Beyond those, Y’Ruen could make out lush green fields and the distant blue mountains that rimmed the northern edge of this continent. A flood of simple pleasure moved through her body at the thought of all that green space, all those fresh hills. Relios contained plenty of humans to consume, that was true, and the destruction of Creos, so long the site of her prison, had been a source of fierce joy, but these southern lands were already dry and sun baked. How pleasant it would be to see the water-fed lands of the north curling and turning black under her flames, while her children bloodied their swords.

Still, there was no rush.

The bone horns on either side of her long head were gathering ice crystals, and she could see the sky above darkening as she ran out of atmosphere. Turning gracefully, she dipped her head below the clouds once more and dived, seeking her children on the ground. The brood army marched below, a glistening tapestry of green and gold. There was almost too much to do. After thousands of years trapped within the Citadel she wanted to see everything turned to ash, and now there was no one to hold her back.