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Authors: Troy Denning

BOOK: The Veiled Dragon
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fortress’s underground chambers. Elversult was burning—a good part of it at least—and there was no escaping the acrid murk. The fumes hung over the city as heavy as a fog, creeping past shuttered windows and seeping under barred doors to fill every room in every building with a choking gray cloud. Perhaps that was a blessing, given the battle stench upon which Ruha would surely have been gagging if her nose had not been so clogged by bitter soot. With wounded Maces sprawled on the floor as thick as rats or holding each other upright on wooden benches, the chamber looked less like an infirmary than a crowded tavern after a vicious and bloody brawl. Through the smoke haze, the witch saw bandaged stumps where there should have been limbs, melted flesh bubbling up between the links of scorched chainmail, and a hundred more wounds too terrible to look upon for long. Many of the warriors had suffered their injuries when they rode with Vaerana to lure Cypress away from Ruha and Hsieh, but many more had been hurt in cult ambushes. Even now, with Elversult’s loyal citizens struggling to fight the fires Cypress had set in his flaming panic, more than a dozen patrols of Maces continued to battle the marauding bands. Given the mild severity other own wound, Ruha would have felt guilty for the healer’s attention she had received the moment she walked in the door—save that her battle was far from over. Her sun spell had driven Cypress into one of the city’s many lakes, but it had not destroyed him. Until the dragon was finally, utterly annihilated, the witch knew better than to think either she or Yansel dara would ever be safe. Minister Hsieh looped his needle through the last stitch on Vaerana’s jaw, then cut the suture. “You may speak now.” He stood and began to cut the hair away from a long slash in her scalp. “But I advise you not to move head.” Vaerana scowled at the cascade of blood-matted tresses tumbling past her shoulder. “Are you going to cut

it all off?” she growled. Then, to Ruha, “Well?” Ruha glanced toward Yanseldara’s slumbering form, then reached into her aba and removed the potion Hsieh had given her earlier. “If we are to finish this battle, we must contact Lady Feng.” Vaerana shook her head, then hissed sharply as Hsieh’s needle dragged across her wound. “You can see for yourself she’s in no condition to be carrying messages.” She gestured at the bed beside her. “Besides, we’ve got Cypress well in hand, thanks to you—though I wish you hadn’t helped him burn down a quarter of Elversult.” “One does not destroy great evil without great sacrifice,” Hsieh remarked. “We have not destroyed anything,” Ruha corrected. “Surrounding Cypress while he hides in Hillshadow Lake is not having him ‘in hand.’ It is offering up Pierstar Hallowhand and his men to appease the dragon’s rage.” Vaerana frowned at the witch. “Didn’t you listen to the last report. Witch? Cypress lost his wings, along with his hands—and underneath that baby sun you made, who knows what’s happening to his head? Pierstar has ballistae and wizards waiting on every shore. As soon as the dragon shows himself above water, they’ll blast him to pieces.” She glowered at the witch, then added, “And they won’t burn down the city.” “It would not matter if they did,” Ruha replied. “You gain nothing if Pierstar destroys the dragon’s body. Cypress will simply take another; then we will not know where he is until he returns as he did before. To truly defeat our enemy, we must allow Minister Hsieh to contact Lady Feng and ask her to smash the dracolich’s spirit gem.” Vaerana set her jaw. “Yanseldara’s too weak. I’m not going to risk her life. And even if we only destroy Cypress’s body, at least we’re buying time to find his lair.” “But what of Lady Feng? Perhaps she has no time.” Hsieh stopped sewing and glanced at the bed next to

them. “Perhaps Lady Yanseldara has even less. If Lady Feng uses oil from evening-picked blossoms, love potion does not last long. When it wears off, her spirit must do battle with the dragon’s.” Vaerana craned her neck to look up at Minister Hsieh, then swore as the movement jerked the needle from his hands. “Don’t you give me any Shou double-talk! You’re only trying to worry me.” “Vaerana, what he says sounds very true. Why are you being so stubborn?” No sooner had the witch asked the question than she realized the answer. The Lady Constable felt responsible for Yanseldara’s condition—she had told Ruha as muc . shortly after their first meeting. On some level, at least, Vaerana wanted to redeem herself by becoming the Lady Lord’s rescuer. Vaerana glowered at both Hsieh and Ruha for a moment, then folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not being stubborn.” She leaned back to let Hsieh finish stitching her scalp shut. “I’m being careful.” “Yes, it is good to be careful.” Ruha nodded thoughtfully, then stepped over to Yanseldara’s bed. “She does look very weak, does she not. Minister?” “It does not matter. Danger is from choking on potion Even weak bond can carry message between body and spirit.” “But Yanseldara needs extra strength to battle Cypress, does she not?” Ruha allowed her eyes to pivot toward Vaerana, then raised the potion in her hand. “Or did I misunderstand you when you gave me this?” If Hsieh perceived Ruha’s intentions, his face showed no sign of it. He frowned slightly, then said, “I think you do misunderstand, Lady Ruha. I say not to worry about Cypress, because we give Lady Yanseldara strength.” Ruha breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Yes, that is right I had forgotten.” “What are you two talking about?” Though Hsieh had stopped sewing, Vaerana remained surprisingly still. “Is

there some way to make this safe?” “More safe,” Hsieh said. “But small risk always remains.” Ruha saw the interest fading from Vaerana’s eyes. “The greatest risk, of course, would be to you,” Ruha added quickly “If Cypress caught on—” “I don’t care about the risk to me!” Vaerana twisted around to look at Hsieh, who deftly released the needle to keep from tearing her wound. “What will it mean to Yanseldara?” “She draws strength from your spirit,” Hsieh said, expounding on Ruha’s fabrication. “Much better for her.” “If there is trouble, you are certain to perish,” Ruha added, trying to make the ruse look as dangerous as possible. “Will you take the chance?” Vaerana did not even hesitate. “Of course!” Ruha handed the message potion to Hsieh. “If you will see to matters here, I must leave immediately.” “Leave?” Vaerana asked. “Where are you going?” “To Hillshadow Lake, of course,” Ruha answered. “When Lady Feng smashes Cypress’s spirit gem, I suspect Pierstar will have need of my magic.” Hsieh produced the last of the lasal from his pocket. “Perhaps you need these.” He gave Ruha several of the slender leaves, but saved three for Vaerana. “Now, Lady Constable, please to chew and prepare yourself.” The water tickled Tang’s toes, and he knew it was rising. The prince lay beside his resting mother, his bare feet dangling over the edge of a sloping limestone ledge. The ceiling hung so low above his back that he could not rise to his knees, and the wall ahead stood so close to his face that each stale breath curled back into his eyes. Yanseldara’s staff lay at his side, and the ghostly head of General Fui hovered an arm’s length away. The only sound that broke the cramped silence was the erratic gasping of

the Third Virtuous Concubine. After pumping the fluid from Lady Feng’s lungs, Tang had collapsed beside her and listened to the drops trickling off his feet into the dark pool from which they had come. The steady splashing had ceased not long ago, and now he felt a cool tide creeping up his toes. The water was definitely rising, no doubt because Cypress had blocked the cavern’s only outflow. Tang rolled onto his back, then picked up Yanseldara’s staff and held the glowing pommel over the pool. An alligator could hardly have squeezed between the surface of the black waters and ceiling. While lying on his back, it was difficult for the prince to see into all the shadowy corners of the cramped vault, but he discerned no hint of an exit above water. As though to confirm what Tang already feared, Ge:i eral Fui drifted to the middle of the dark pool, then se* tied beneath the water and stopped to wait. Lady Feng stirred and rolled onto her back. “What is happening, Brave Prince?” “The water rises. We must go.” Lady Feng grimaced and shook her head. “We lose our way.” Tang lowered Yanseldara’s staff toward the ghostly head waiting in the dark pool. “General Fui guides—” “Lady Feng?” The staff’s glowing spirit gem dimmed slightly as a dulcet voice filled the cramped vault. “Do you hear me?” The words were Shou, but Tang, who had met Elversuit’s Lady Lord on several ceremonial occasions, recognized the voice as Yanseldara’s. “Who is this?” he demanded. “You are not Lady Lord!” “Nor are you, but I hear you in Lady Yanseldara’s voice. Are you Third Virtuous Concubine?” Tang looked to his mother, who appeared only slightly less puzzled than he. She shook her head to indicate she did not wish to speak, then motioned for him to continue “This is Prince Kao Chou Tang.” “I am most pleased to hear your voice, Young Prince.” came the reply. “When I give you leave to fetch Third Virtuous Concubine, I do not expect you to be gone so long.” “Minister Hsieh!” Only the cramped quarters kept Tang from kowtowing to the spirit gem. “Please to—” “We discuss your disobedience soon enough,” the mandarin replied. “I presume you find Yanseldara’s staff, or we could not speak. Do you also find Sagacious Mother?” Before Tang answered, a terrible thought occurred to him. “Esteemed Minister, Cypress shares gem with Yanseldara. Perhaps he hears us!” There was a short silence; then Hsieh said, “It does not matter. Witch has almost destroyed him.” This drew a smile from Lady Feng, who said, “I am here.” “Good. I bear greetings and message from Most High Emperor, but first—” A sudden burst of darkness flared inside the spirit gem. “Tang! You are alive!” rumbled Cypress’s deep voice. “Well, no matter. I am not so hurt as those fools imagine.” Tang was so startled that he let the staff slip from his hands, then barely caught it before it rolled down the sloping shelf into the dark water. Once again, the great topaz in the pommel glowed with the steady, brilliant scarlet light that it had assumed when the two spirits inside it united—though the prince fancied that he could now see glimmers of silver and black whirling deep within the gem. “Minister Hsieh?” Tang’s only answer was a faint purl as the dark waters seeped onto the ledge where he and his mother lay.
S|i
** Cypress lay at the bottom ofHillshadow Lake. Save for the golden ball still burning at the end of his sinuous neck, he was a huge black shape barely visible through the curtains of steam rising off the green waters. He

hardly moved, and he made no sound; if not for his black tail occasionally rising to the surface, Ruha would not have known whether he still abided in his dark body. “How long will your fire keep burning, Lady Ruha?” Pierstar gestured vaguely toward the halo of yellow, boiling waters in the center of the lake. “We’ve been waiting for it to die out since he went under!” “The spell draws its fire from the sun.” The witch could hardly bear to take her eyes off Cypress. It would not be long before Lady Feng smashed his spirit gem, and then Ruha would truly earn the right to be called a Harper. “The magic will fade when the sun sets—or when I cancel the spell.” “Then you may call it off when you wish,” Pierstar said. “We are ready to fight when you are.” Along with a small company of officers and runners, Ruha and the commander were standing behind the parapets of Baldagar Manor. The villa was the lowest of four keeplike mansions grouped together on the western shore of Hillshadow Lake. It offered the best view of the dragon, and it was also well placed to serve as a command post. The lake itself lay at the foot of Temple Hill, with beachfront streets encircling one end and magnificent villas the other. Fully fifteen hundred Maces stood along the shores, either arrayed along the cobblestone roads or crowded together atop the roofs of the great mansions. In lieu of their customary maces and horse lances, the men were armed with harpoon-firing ballistae or net-flinging catapults. Should they be fortunate enough to actually bring Cypress down, groups of horse-mounted battle wizards waited in strategic locations to reinforce them. Ruha nodded. “Your preparations are beyond reproach, Pierstar, but—how can I put this without seeming rude?” “Rude?” the commander snorted. “Why would you worry about being rude when you’ve met Vaerana Hawklyn?” Ruha smiled. “Then I will speak bluntly. While it is

clear that even the dragon cannot slay all of the men gathered here, I fear you may not stop him from escaping. Cypress is no fool. When he leaves the lake, he will not do the predictable thing.” “Of course not. But how can we predict the unpredictable?” Pierstar asked. “We are not gods.” “No, but we can control some things,” Ruha replied. “By using those to our advantage, we can guide our foe’s actions.” Pierstar raised a bushy eyebrow. “What are you thinking?” The witch described her plan, and by the time she finished, Pierstar looked both hopeful and concerned. “You’re taking a big risk on Elversult’s behalf, Lady Witch,” he said. “Are you sure you want to?” Ruha nodded. “I am sure. After Lady Feng smashes Cypress’s spirit gem, we will have only one chance to destroy him—and the best way to be certain we do is to use his rage against him.” “Then Elversult thanks you, and so do I.” Pierstar laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll give the orders.” Before the commander could leave, a breathless messenger stormed out of the stairwell. He raised a hand in salute to Pierstar, then rushed over to Ruha. “Minister Hsieh sends word that he has spoken to Lady Feng—and her son, Prince Tang.” “And?” Pierstar asked. “He reports that they have Yanseldara’s staff, but Cypress interfered before he could tell them to crush the gem.” Ruha’s stomach turned queasy and cold, and she grew acutely aware of the dull ache of the wound she had suffered earlier. She did not realize she was swaying, however, until Pierstar reached out to brace her. “Lady Witch?” “We’re only fighting for time.” Ruha’s voice was so low that even she could barely hear it. “Unless the gem is smashed, we cannot win.” “The Shou are a smart people.” Pierstar’s confidence sounded forced. “They will understand what their mandarin wanted.” Ruha took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yes, that is what we must hope. We have no other choice.” Gently, she freed herself from Pierstar’s supporting hand. “Perhaps you should issue your orders. There is no telling what Cypress will do now.” The commander nodded and went to speak with his officers. When the messenger did not leave, Ruha asked, “Is there more?” “The minister is reluctant to mix the ylang potion,” the messenger reported. “He said the spirit battle between Cypress and Yanseldara has begun. Unless Prince Tang destroys the gem, it will only distract the Lady Lord and make her weaker.” Ruha thought for a moment, remembering the fury in Tang’s eyes when he vowed to prove himself a man and stormed out of the spicehouse. She had expected his words to come to nothing, of course, but if he had actually reached Lady Feng, perhaps his promise had not been an empty one. “Tell Hsieh to give her the potion.” “Then you think the prince will smash the gem?” The messenger’s voice was hopeful. Ruha spread her hands. “Not the prince I know—but the prince I know would not have had the courage to go into a dragon’s lair after his mother. We can only hope this new prince is someone more worthy of the title.” “I’ll tell the minister what you said. Is there anything else?” Ruha shook her head, and the messenger departed. Pierstar returned a short time later. “Our wizards are on the way,” the commander reported. “I’ve also taken the liberty of taking a few other preparations.” Pierstar gestured at the mansions flanking Baldagar Manor, where several ballista crews were sighting their weapons through the open shutters of the highest windows. On the roofs of the two buildings, the catapult crews were also moving their war engines into the corners closest to the command post. Although the men kept the weapons directed toward the lake, they were careful to leave room to swing around at the last moment. “You have thought of everything, Pierstar,” Ruha commented. “And now, there is no reason for you and your

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