A Shade of Dragon 3 (12 page)

“
Y
ou think
I can talk Lethe into taking over Beggar’s Hole, too?” Michelle bellowed into my ear. “You could work in that castle, you know? Still see your family. That’d be nice. We could start a campaign to, like, support ice dragon awareness. A charity!”

I twisted slightly so that my voice would be angled toward Michelle, rather than thrown into the wind. Neither of us were sufficiently dressed for this weather, but Lethe rode too high in the sky for me to be able to think about much else. No matter how cold my fingers got, I would need for them to snap off before I let go. “I don’t think you get it,” I hollered back to her. “They’re two different worlds. You can’t bring one into the other and mix them—you can only pick one. If you want to be here, you should stay here.”

“I’m not a queen here!” Michelle called back.

“Yeah, well.” The next words came out of my mouth without my really meaning them to. They just popped out because they were true. “You’re not really a queen anywhere anymore.”

The next thing that I felt was a wrenching at my waist where Michelle had been clutching me for balance. Suddenly, my stiff, cold fingers were forced to scrabble at Lethe’s scales for a better grip—but I was too late. I hadn’t seen it coming. Somehow I had thought that Michelle, in spite of being shallow, and self-centered, and cold, and manipulative, was not capable of the greater evils we saw perpetrated in our world. I did not think that, as much as she could steal or lie, she could murder. But she proved me wrong the moment her thighs clutched to Lethe’s shoulders for balance and she dug her fingers into my hips, tilting and shoving me from his back.

I let loose one long shriek—it really didn’t end until the breath in my lungs was exhausted—as my legs thrashed in the whipping wind and I toppled toward the ocean.
It’s going to be so cold,
I thought, screaming again and shielding my face in anticipation of the impact.
I’m going to freeze to death. No… no, I’m going to drown, just like I did the night that Theon and I met. How… fateful.

I slammed into something cool and solid, yet spongy and yielding beneath my weight, what little oxygen I had left after all the screaming was pushed from my lungs immediately upon impact. I bucked and clawed against the scales which enwrapped my torso, peripheral vision swimming in dots.
Don’t lose consciousness. Don’t lose consciousness. I don’t think he could catch you again.

Who had caught me?

Blinking, I raised my head. My legs hung loose in the air, my arms instinctively looped to clutch the length of skin which now cradled me. The scales were chilly to the touch, and pale blue… and up, sitting at the base of Lethe’s shoulder blades, I saw the shadow of Michelle’s back. I glowered at her. She had tried to kill me. She really had.

And Lethe had saved me… with his tail.

It was from this vantage point, dangling behind Michelle, Lethe, Vulott and the leading harpy, advancing onward toward the shore, that I was able to see another scaled creature in flight behind us. Behind us, and so low to the ground his belly might have been skimming the water. He was as large as a small house, a shimmering black dragon with golden embellishments.

Theon.

I
was shuddering uncontrollably
and beginning to lose sensation in my extremities when the five of us finally touched down in the heart of Beggar’s Forest, though I remembered that the winged woman had not called this land by that name. She had called it the forest of Thundercliff. I knew this land well; the Ballinger lake house was not far from here, nor was the famed Beggar’s Hole itself: the mysterious whirlpool which sucked everything into its depths, never to return. I remembered fantasizing in my less mature days that Michelle, on certain days, would get sucked down there. But then… she’d never tried to kill me before.

There was snow here, but it was a thin crust of the stuff, bright silver in the moonlight. The harpy touched down first on the beach, surrounded by the thick, snow-clotted foliage so customary of Maine. Vulott and Lethe landed directly after her, transforming back to their human selves. Michelle also looked cold, but she was of a thicker build than me. “I wish there was some way that I could warm you,” Lethe commented to me, off-hand.

Michelle’s expression soured, though she said nothing to Lethe and instead directed her thoughts, naturally, to his insane father.

Dragons of a feather,
I thought acidly, wrapping my arms around myself.

“I have a family home not far from here,” Michelle informed Vulott sweetly. “It could serve as a base of operations… temporarily, anyway. As I mentioned, my parents are never there.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled like a model in an ad. “There’s no reason to think that we’ve lost Everwinter, you know,” she went on. God, she did sound like some terrible queen, a villain fit for a fairy tale. “The fire dragons don’t know about this place. We could make a plan… regroup… enlist the harpies.” She cast hopeful eyes toward the harpy, who had now been joined by two others of her kind; one raven, one dove.

“Your queen is fierce, Lethe,” Vulott commended her. Michelle smirked, and I wished that I could remind everyone that this was the man who allowed his unwilling son to take the crown because he was losing his grip on a little thing called sanity.

“But our people fled the city,” Lethe reminded her. “Much like we did. No one stayed behind to defend it. And now we’ve scattered.”

“Still!” Michelle cried, gesturing to the auburn harpy, who held the astrolabe clutched in her withered forearms. “Look! They can’t really go back. They can’t really reclaim anything. Because we have the astrolabe! Right? As long as we have that, the island is virtually uninhabitable… right?”

Lethe shook his head. “It won’t work here,” he told her. “We are now in another dimension entirely, Michelle. While the astrolabe is here, it will not affect Everwinter… or The Hearthlands.”

“Shut your mouth,” Vulott spat.

But Lethe merely looked away from him and continued speaking. It was progress. “While the astrolabe is here, it will not affect the stars, nor will it affect the weather. Not in favor of any party. The natural patterns of the island will resume as if the astrolabe had never existed. It has probably already begun.” His eyes shifted to his father now. “You know it’s true,” he added.

“If the device is useless here,” the head harpy asked, “why did you bring it?”

“That is simple enough,” Vulott sneered. “So the fire dragons would not have it!”

“But…”

“Are you going to be okay?” Lethe whispered beside me. He was watching me with warm blue eyes, concerned. “It’s awfully cold here for a human.”

“It’s chilly,” I admitted, rubbing my own arms. “But it’s not nearly as bad as Everwinter.” I smiled up at him. “Trust me.”

He smiled back, and our brief moment of peace was interrupted by the sound of a crashing through the trees—and two large fire dragons, one black and gold, one orange and red, dove toward us out of the sky, aiming directly for the small beach on which we were clustered.

Michelle covered her head and shrilled like a banshee, ducking down onto her knees.

I stared into the sky, and I let the smile on my face soften and grow. I missed Theon so much, and now he was here; I had seen him following us… and now I saw him again, gleaming and raven black. I’d known he’d come for me. Now that the castle had been retaken—perhaps even before it had been fully secured—he had come for me. I’d known he would. I’d been waiting.

“I’d rather be damned to hell,” Vulott growled, silver scales coursing over his face and hands, body cracking and popping, lengthening and ballooning. His massive head swung to scrutinize his son icily. “This is an age-old feud, boy,” he snapped at Lethe. “You were born to die for it.”

Lethe frowned at his father, as if this statement brought to mind unanswered questions, but then he shifted anyway. My lips fell open slightly, and I almost wanted to call out to him, to say something to him, ask him why, why he kept letting his father run his life… his whole life… but the fire dragons were on top of them now, and I knew he wouldn’t listen to me. It was too late. Just like Michelle… he’d chosen his side.

T
heon spewed
a bright orange magma onto the beach, toward Vulott, but the silver beast took to the sky, where he had more maneuverability. I lunged to one side, even though I was never in any danger of being hit, and then shot a glance over my shoulder. The bright orange puddle seethed and sizzled like a geyser in the sand.

I wondered who this second dragon, orange and red, was. Lethe had taken to the sky and started battling with him or her; I hadn’t seen that coming, and I wished that Lethe had objected to the battle. I didn’t want to see either of them hurt. Lethe was not, at his core, a fighter. So why did he fight? When would he finally say no?

The black harpy and the white harpy swarmed overhead, their massive wingspans slashing over the beach.

The black harpy made one move to defend Theon from Vulott—she clawed at the silver dragon’s hide—and it was all that it took for the senile ice dragon to realize that the harpies had turned against them, or been against them from the beginning. He shot a spray of ice at the black harpy—enough to cause her wings to falter and for her to go splashing into the shallows below—and then, for good measure, shot another cloud of frost at the white harpy, in case she got any ideas. But it was obvious to me that harpies didn’t naturally fight for anyone but themselves, as the white harpy quickly recovered and withdrew, not even going to help the black harpy as she floundered out of the water. I bit my lip, watching her. Anyone in the waters of Beggar’s Lake needed to be careful. The undertow led into that bottomless whirlpool. Even a dragon, I suspected, would not survive.

The brown-and-red dappled harpy squawked and drew up slightly into the air, her stance protective. She still clutched the astrolabe, which had lost its mystical luster in this dimension.

Michelle looked from the mid-air diving and lunging of the fire and ice dragons, to the astrolabe, and back again. It had been her bargaining chip once before. It had saved her life once before. Knowing Michelle, she was banking that this precious item could do the same thing twice… and she lunged for the winged woman, which even I had to admit took courage.

The harpy’s arms, shriveled either from lack of use or poor engineering, were all too easy for Michelle to wrench the astrolabe out of. The harpy cawed and lashed out with a leathery talon, striking her beautiful face. Michelle floundered and collapsed into the sand. I could not let Michelle have that astrolabe; she’d attempted to murder me maybe half an hour ago. She’d sought to make me her lifelong slave. These things had exhausted the last of my excuses in her name.

I lunged onto the shore and grasped the interlocking discs from her arms; still, in spite of that nasty wound, her arms were wound tightly around the astrolabe. We rolled over the damp beach, kicking, thrashing. I got desperate and hooked my fingernails into claws, swiping down Michelle’s wound. She wailed and reeled away; I collapsed onto my back with the astrolabe on my chest.

I looked for Theon, but he was now distracted by a battle with Lethe, their reflections of black and blue twisting on the surface of the lake. Dear God… what would I do if either one was stricken and collapsed into the water? Was pulled into that vortex in Beggar’s Lake? I couldn’t take it; I wished they wouldn’t fight.

Michelle held her face and moaned, rolling away.

My eyes lifted to the sky overhead, where the silver and orange dragon twisted in the sky. The silver dragon—Vulott—locked eyes with me over the orange wing of his opponent, and then… his mouth opened and emitted a twisted lance of pure white ice. I screamed; it was moving too fast; there was no time!

A disc of white ice zoomed from over the lake, intersecting with the lance, and both shattered and fell in a rain of razor-sharp shards onto the beach. I rolled on top of the astrolabe, burying my face into the sand. I drew my legs up beneath it, cradling the astrolabe against my torso, then forced myself to look into the sky. I knew more was coming. Just because Lethe had intervened with his father, protecting me… didn’t mean the assault had ended.

There, in the sky, zooming toward me. The silver beast. The insane ex-king. Vulott.

The red harpy shrilled and flapped, disappearing.

I shrieked and rolled away, covering my head, waiting for the sting of icy claws into my back.

I
’d hesitated at Thundercliff
, lingering there. Nell was safe. I’d seen Lethe swoop and scoop her with the precision of his long tail. I knew he would take care of her—I thought that he would, anyway. And I needed to wait for Altair. I couldn’t take on both Vulott and Lethe. If they saw me prior to that event, they might relocate, realizing that the harpies had betrayed their trust. But as soon as Altair appeared in the sky, I moved to greet him in mid-air. “The harpies have taken the Eraeus men to the ghoul portal! They have the astrolabe—and they have Penelope!”

“Let’s go!”

Altair and I moved through the sky, fortunate for the coverage of the night. The portal of the realm of the ghouls—vicious, macabre, and twisted creatures—was located at the bottom of the swirling lake, in the heart of the forest.

We found them within a few minutes, scanning the thick forest for the beach where the harpies had agreed they would lead the ice dragons. We found them… and they found us. The bigger one, Vulott, shifted and took to the sky all in one horrific ball of flesh and scales, melting as a man, emerging as a dragon. Lethe hesitated, but took to the sky after his father. Lethe—in spite of Penelope’s fondness for the man—would find no similar quarter in my heart. As Vulott locked onto my brother, my eyes narrowed, and Lethe locked onto them.

I wanted to fight him… but then I remembered how he’d swooped down and his tail had whipped out and collected Nell from the sky when I’d been too far behind to do the same. I wanted to fight him, but I didn’t want to fight him. As he came to meet me in the sky—a blast of corrosive frost, met with a ball of fire from my own throat—it seemed a shadow play. A thrust for the entertainment of who? His father?

The shriek of the harpy sounded behind my back, but I couldn’t twist to observe.

Another streak of ice zoomed past me, and disappeared into the lake’s water beyond.

My eyes shot to the lake below. I could see the dark hole, roughly the size of a bicycle wheel, twisting on the surface of the water, as black as any of the cosmic portals, trembling, moaning open. I knew the ghouls waited on the other side.

Lethe sent another blast at me, and I dove. That was when I heard Nell’s scream. Too late, too distracted. By the time I had turned, Lethe had already sent a disc of ice spinning from the cloud he had exhaled. It intersected the bolt of ice whistling its way toward Nell. Both objects crashed and showered down onto the beach; I saw that Michelle was wounded, the harpies had all but abandoned us, and Nell had rolled away and covered her head, leaving the astrolabe unattended between the two of them.

I was becoming too stiff, even though it wasn’t snowing, to continue this fight—but the sight of the astrolabe, lying between the two girls on the sand of the beach, renewed my vigor. It was not only a pivotal tool to the Aena dynasty, but it was the exact precious lure that a mad king would pursue into even the most treacherous depths. I pulled beyond Lethe and zeroed in on the beach, allowing the dull gleam of those interlocking spheres to become my focal point. My talons stretched forward. Silver Vulott went into a similar dive in an attempt to reach the astrolabe first—but Altair sent a plume of fire after him, and Vulott shrieked, thrown off-course.

I skimmed the wet sand of the lakeshore, bringing the astrolabe up in my claws, and then carried it over the lake again.

I knew—I had heard—that the Aena dynasty had used this astrolabe to manipulate the climate of The Hearthlands to be suitable to fire dragons, just as the Eraeus dynasty had used it to create a climate more hospitable to their own people. But now that the city had been burnt to a husk, and almost everyone on either side had vacated the region, it seemed silly and petty to hold on to it. I cast a look at the beach, where Nell was still huddled. Cold. She needed me. And that made the astrolabe all the pettier.

I relaxed my talons open and allowed its interlocking discs to whistle through the sky, plummeting down into the lake waters below. It winked in the silvery moonlight and then vanished into the tumultuous tunnel of what the people of Earth called “Beggar’s Hole”—the phenomenon the town itself was named after… and what others called the gate of the ghouls.

Lethe did not pursue the astrolabe, but watched it disappear into the dark froth of the lake. He did not cry out as Vulott flexed his talons and zoomed downward, his eyes steadfast on the disappearing gleam of silver as it went deeper and deeper into the whirlpool. I assumed that he did not realize, or did not remember, into what dimension his father had just plunged.

I looked at Nell on the beach. She was still cradling her head… but her eyes had raised to scan the lake’s shore. To determine the source of the mighty crash made by Vulott’s descent into the whirlpool.

I went to her without the sense of urgency I had felt before. We were safe now. The sole survivor of the Eraeus dynasty was her friend; he did not pursue me as I advanced on the beach. He did not seek to extricate his father as the silver beast swirled down into the shadowy vortex.

A deep, echoing moan filtered up from the portal, as if a hungry beast had been fed, but I didn’t look back. I knew enough of the realm of the ghouls to know that if they did emerge from that powerful vortex, it would be a sight best ignored, if not from which to flee. I focused on Nell and landed over her, steadily shrinking into the form she knew best: the human Theon. My hand still bore partial talons and patches of black scales as I stretched it out and gently brushed the hair from her cheek. Her eyelashes kissed closed, and she leaned into my palm, smiling. I wrapped my free arm around her, letting the chill of her body melt away beneath my touch.

“It’s over,” I whispered to her, cradling her against me. She shuddered and murmured, but the murmur didn’t seem too alarmed.

“It’s not over,” she replied. “There is still a queen and a king to be… in a ruined and empty city.”

I smiled and tilted her face to gaze into mine. I needed to see her eyes and know that she was thoughtful, but not dismayed. “Not ruined,” I promised her. “Only… battered. And not empty, either. We will rebuild the land with the remnants of our people, and the others will return. The Hearthlands are beautiful. The country will not fall into disrepair, and it will never be forgotten. Not while we are at its helm.” I leaned and pressed my lips to her cold ones. The heat of our bodies together formed a halo which surrounded us, and it wasn’t until the mewling of a crying woman shattered our solace that I remembered the harpies, and the ice prince, and Altair, all around us.