Witchbreaker (Dragon Apocalypse) (43 page)

“No,” said Slate.

“But you disobeyed the truths spoken by the Voice of the Book. You could not do so unless your truths were greater than his.”

“It’s foretold that the Omega Reader will be a flawless man, devoid of sin. I’m not that man. These sacred words must wait for their final reader. I’m taking the book to the Silver City. With the book safe, Tempest will no longer be able to corrupt the church.”

“You’ll not travel alone,” said the knight. “My name is Steadfast Plowman, a knight of the book. I didn’t take up arms for my faith with the intention of living like a coward. For years, my brother knights and I have seethed in silent anger as our superiors commanded us to ignore the wickedness of the Storm Guard. We’re men of true hearts willing to give our lives for your cause.”

“Then rise and take arms. The road before us is long and steep. I do not expect our journey to the sea to go unopposed.”

“We need not take the road,” said Steadfast. “Follow us.”

“Give me one more minute to catch my breath,” said Sorrow.

Slate shook his head.

“I fought beside you believing you were my friend, when all along you plotted with Avaris behind my back. I... do not hate you. I believe that, like Utmost, you possessed good intentions. In the name of a greater good, you’ve allowed yourself to embrace evil. I won’t kill you. You still have hope of redemption. Perhaps one day you can turn from the dark path you’ve chosen. For now, we must part ways.”

Sorrow slid down the wall to rest upon the floor as Slate left the chamber. She didn’t have the strength to chase him, and definitely lacked the will to argue with him. She’d spared his life because of his honesty. And because of that honesty, his words had been hammers driving nails of truth into her aching skull. As she sat with her wings pinned beneath her, staring at her clawed hands, she understood that it wasn’t her body that had become a monster. She was just as corrupt and compromised as Utmost. She thought her eyes had been forever tuned to see the evil that others were blind to.

In the end, she was the one who’d been most blind. Like her father, she held her principles so dearly, so tightly, that she’d smothered them.

She still had the key she’d used to open the door. She pressed it between her fingers until it became a razor sharp scalpel. She brought the knife toward the left side of her face, until she could no longer see it. In this temple of truth, her left eye was already blind.

In this temple of truth, there was more than one way to undo a bad bargain.

S
HE USED THE
silver threads from the fallen chandelier to stitch her wounds shut. The wound inflicted by the blood blade continued to ooze despite her efforts, painting her arms in red tendrils. She used the lightning rod as a cane as she hobbled toward the large window they’d flown through.

She steadied herself with a hand on the wall as she looked down. The cliff face below her was sheer. She jerked her head up as battle cries broke out above her. Horses erupted from an unseen window, leaping out into open space and landing on columns of light that shot from their glowing horseshoes. The horses continued to jump until there were more than she could count, each bearing a knight upon its back. She called out “Slate!” as she spotted him in the middle of the pack astride a magnificent black stallion. Whether he heard her or not, he didn’t look back.

She looked at the ground once more. With only one eye, her depth perception was too poor for her judge the distance, but in the end, what would it matter? She would either leap and find the strength to fly, or fail and plummet to her death. Whether the distance was fifty feet or five hundred didn’t truly matter.

She tucked the lightning rod back into the cotton sash she’d tied around her waist, then held her arms clasped together before her, preparing to dive. She spread her wings and fell forward. The second her toes left the white quartz floor, she felt a surge of strength flow through her. Her connection with Rott had returned! Draconic power pulsed through her veins, feeding her wings. They caught the rushing wind and threw her across the sky, in hot pursuit of the galloping horses.

What foolish thing have you done, girl?

“Avaris?” she cried in shock and dismay.

Did you think that eyes alone sealed our contract? You may pluck out an eye, but you cannot pluck out a soul. I’m part of you until you’ve fulfilled your vow!

“Fine,” said Sorrow. “For the time being, all I want you to do is shut up. I’ve got my hands full at the moment.” Which was true enough, as she reached behind her and grabbed the lightning rod. She paused for a heartbeat as she found a patch of rough scales along her hip. The return of Rott’s power had brought further changes to her body, it seemed. She had no time to inspect herself, however. The knights were galloping directly toward the bank of clouds beneath them. Flickers of lightning lit the churning gray mass. She dissolved the iron rings around the rod to protect her from any stray bolts.

Her prescience paid off, as a gray-skinned cloud giant rose from the storm below with a quiver full of glowing javelins strapped to his back. He hurled one at the closest knight, who was thrown from his saddle as a bolt of lightning cut his horse from beneath him. The giant drew a second bolt, but before he could strike, Steadfast Plowman, whom she recognized from his coat of arms, broke free from the pack of knights and charged with blinding speed toward the giant, his lance set to strike. Sorrow winced as Steadfast drove his weapon into the giant’s eye. The giant toppled, ripping the lance from Steadfast’s grasp, disarming him just as three other giants climbed atop the clouds, javelins at the ready.

Half the knights peeled off to engage in combat while the core of knights surrounding Slate closed even tighter as together they plunged into the clouds. Thunder rumbled as lighting crackled across the sky. Sorrow aimed toward the area of greatest intensity, the lightning rod held before her. Its glow flared as it sucked power from the charged air. Sorrow’s wings were quickly soaked by the torrential rain within the cloud, and the winds spun her about like a chicken caught in a tornado. Suddenly her momentum came to a bone-jarring halt as a giant hand wrapped around her, squeezing her torso until she felt ribs snap. A pair of enormous fingers approached her head, looking ready to pinch it from her shoulders.

Her body was already ruined. She opened the dark door inside her, letting the entropic force flow. Flesh sloughed from the giant’s hand, leaving only fingers of bone, which loosened their grasp.

Sorrow fell, sucking in wet air, shivering as mixed rain and snow froze on her exposed skin. She managed to spread her wings just as she tumbled out of the clouds. She was mere yards from a snow-covered slope, and it was more luck than skill that allowed her to swerve out of the path of the largest boulder before she slammed into it.

She flapped her wings with all her might, shaking free the ice that coated her, and flew on beneath the rumbling storm. She craned her neck from side to side but couldn’t see Slate or the knights anywhere. Had they met their ends inside the cloud? Somehow, she doubted it.

She hurtled down the mountainside at speeds she’d never dared before. The wind froze her arms as she held them before her, turning her skin gray. Or were her limbs turning dark for other reasons?

At last she broke free from the worst of the rain. Before her, she could see the port, and her eyes scanned the rim of the bay looking for the
Circus
. Her heart sank when she found towers of flame rising from that very area. But as she drew closer, she saw that the
Circus
was half a mile out in the bay, all sails set, smashing through the waves.

The flames were coming from the slave market. The whole of the complex was ablaze. A bucket brigade had been formed, but its efforts were too late. The pitch-soaked pilings that supported the dock were the source of the most energetic flames. The firefighters threw down their buckets and ran as the docks groaned, tilting and twisting beneath the weight of the structures upon them. Within seconds, the last half of the dock collapsed, sending great whirlwinds of embers roaring into the sky.

Sorrow flew around the columns of sparks, gritting her teeth as the winds tossed her side to side. Closing on the
Circus
was slow going until she caught the gusts that Gale had summoned to drive to boat to full speed. She rode the wind toward the deck, tilting her legs down to land on the aft-castle.

Gale, Sage, and Rigger were at the wheel, along with Brand. Most of the other Romers and Bigsby were occupied with what looked to be a hundred pygmies, helping them steady themselves as they descended the stairs to below deck. Mako was the only one not visible.

“Get ready for full speed!” Gale called out as she held he hands above her head, fingers spread wide.

“This isn’t full speed?” Sorrow struggled to stay on her feet on the pitching deck.

“Sage saw you coming. I slowed down so you could catch us.”

Brand turned pale as he looked at her. “What happened?” he asked, studying her face.

She touched the crusted stitches over her empty eye. “I feel like I should have a witty reply, but I don’t.”

“This has something to do with our conversation?” Sage asked.

“Something, yes.”

“Oh. I didn’t even notice the eye,” said Brand. “I was talking about the scales.”

Sorrow let her talons fall to her cheeks. She found her skin was now covered with smooth, hard beads.

“These things happen,” she said. She glanced toward the pygmies. “And apparently, a lot of other stuff has happened as well. How did your business meetings go?”

Brand steadied himself against the rail as the wind lashing the ship grew even stronger. He shouted, “One of dad’s associates was a slave-trader named Price. I spoke to him for about five minutes before I realized that the only favor I wanted from the sleazy bastard was to watch him suffer and die. But he was thrilled enough to meet me that he gave me a tour of the slave warehouses. From one of the windows, I could see the
Circus
. After that, one thing led to another.”

“Where’s Mako?” Sorrow asked.

“I’m right here,” Mako said as he pulled himself up over the railing, dripping wet. He tossed an auger to the deck, and whipped his head to fling his long, slick hair out of his face. “While Jetsam and Ma got the fire going, I was making certain any ships that might pursue us had holes in their hull.”

“What about cloudships?” Sorrow asked.

Gale said, “I’ll take Levi at his word that if he’d been commander during the thick of the pirate wars, he would have taken actions to tilt the battles in our favor.”

Sorrow looked up. The sky directly above them had patches of blue.

Amid this blue, a trio of horseman could be seen in silhouette, galloping toward the
Circus
.

“They’re attacking from above!” Jetsam shouted.

“It’s Slate!” Sage called out. “Ma, calm the deck so the horses can land!”

Gale lowered her arms.

“Another delay,” grumbled Rigger. “Am I the only one in a hurry to get onto the high sea before Tempest intervenes?”

“Tempest isn’t going to pay attention to a few missing slaves,” Mako said. He had his eyes fixed on Sorrow. She turned away, feeling awkward. His feelings had been so hurt when she’d spurned his advances. But after her conversation with Gale the other night, she wasn’t going to betray the woman’s trust by engaging in loveless sex with her son.

“What will it matter if we’re on the high seas?” asked Brand. “There are storms at sea as well.”

“True,” said Gale. “But that’s also the domain of Abyss. We could ask for his protection.”

Slate and the trio of knights reached the deck. The horse’s hooves clomped loudly on the wood as they tried to steady themselves.

“Windswept!” Poppy shouted as she ran toward the steeds. “I’ve never gotten to touch a real horse!”

“Stay back,” said the knight on Slate’s right, who wore a green tunic over his armor. “Our steeds are exhausted and nervous after what we’ve been through.” He dismounted, stroking his horse’s neck. “I wouldn’t want you risking injury.”

“I’ve always dreamed of riding a horse!” said Poppy.

“The experience isn’t as pleasant as you might think,” Slate said as he dismounted, standing on rubbery legs. He had the One True Book clasped beneath his left arm. It looked a bit waterlogged.

“I can teach you to ride sometime,” said Bigsby. “I’m an excellent equestrian.”

Everyone looked at him.

“Um,” said Brand, “that was the princess who was jousting as a toddler, not you.”

“I know,” Bigsby said. “But I learned to ride while I was with the circus. I was so good I could stand on horseback and juggle knives as I rode around the tent.”

“Wasn’t the owner of your carnival killed with a thrown knife?” Brand asked.

“And I made my escape on horseback,” said Bigsby. “There’s probably a lesson to be learned there.” He glanced back at the now distant city, toward the smoke rising to mix with the churning storm front. “Having been an unwilling employee, it does my heart good to see a place like that burn. I only hope Price didn’t make it out alive.”

“He didn’t,” said Jetsam, as he guided the last of the pygmies to the stairs.