City of Ice (22 page)

Leech figured it must be a Tizheruk in the flesh. The monster was about ten feet long and four feet wide and it seemed to be mostly head attached to a large fluked tail. Its head was blunt like a moray eel's, with a long jaw filled with daggerlike teeth. Even though its black eyes were as large as Leech's fist, they seemed too small for a creature that size.

Near the base of the skull were gill slits, and just behind them long, bony fins protruded. They were strong enough to support the Tizheruk's head, giving it rudimentary legs. Its body broadened into a forked tail as large as a sail. And from head to tail its skin was as knobby as the older one they had seen. So it must have had the same problem with parasites.

The Tizheruk thrashed about, wrapping itself in streamers of mist and throwing frozen rubble around like pieces of cardboard.

At a command from Taqqiq, a blade of bright flame stabbed through the dimness, licking against the Tizheruk's hide. With a roar, the monster drew back.

Leech saw a bear with a blowtorch driving the creature into a ring of wolves and foxes. At another order from Taqqiq, the squad sprang upon the monster from all directions, savaging it. The Tizheruk's head was so big it could only swing it and its end clumsily. As a result, it was always too late when it tried to bite one of its speedy attackers or club one with its tail. In a narrow tunnel, where you could only assault from the front, the Tizheruk would have a formidable advantage, but in a large room—like this one—its sides were vulnerable.

When the monster had fallen below, it had already been weakened by dozens of bleeding bite wounds, and now the clan warriors were tearing large chunks from its hide. After only a few moments, the monster was already moving slower.

Another squad of animals was taking away the freebooters' weapons and gathering them in a cluster. The humans stood, dazed and frightened, as if waiting to wake up from their nightmare.

Not all the bears and foxes had survived the collapse of the ceiling, but the remaining bears gathered side by side in a line just beneath the rim of the hole. Squatting, this time they lifted sturdy wolves up to their shoulders. The wolves in turn stretched upward, trying to grasp the edge and form living ladders, but their paws flailed in vain just a few inches short.

Above them, a few of the intruders were recovering from the shock. Shots began to ring down. A wolf howled and toppled backward off a bear.

“Stand back and don't go up until I do,” Bayang instructed Leech and the others. Then she said to Taqqiq, “Wait. Let me help.”

The dragon's outline blurred and the air around her began to sparkle as she drew in the elements she needed. When Bayang's shape sharpened again, she had swelled to twice her former size, knocking over the nearest animals who had not gotten out of the way like the children.

The sight of a giant dragon shooting upward through the opening threw off the freebooters, but only for a second. The next, shots were pinging off Bayang's scales.

Ignoring the bullets as if they were mosquitoes, Bayang stretched forward to form a sturdy highway for the clan warriors.

“Poor guys.” Koko shook his head. “The first wave is going to get gunned down.”

Leech had caught a glimpse of the floor above. It seemed to be a large chamber with a high domed ceiling.

“Not if I can help it,” he said. He'd had enough of being on foot and slipping and sliding. If he tried that up above, he'd wind up on his rump in the middle of a battle. So he pulled the disks from his armband and spat on them. “Change,” he said. As soon as his fingers had traced the magical sign, the wheels were whizzing in front of him.

“Bayang said to wait here,” Scirye protested.

“I'm tired of doing nothing while the clan dies,” Leech said, and stepped onto the whirling circles. His heart leapt as it always did when he sprang into the air.

“You're right,” Roxanna said. Tucking the axe into her belt, she skated over to a fallen freebooter and removed a bandolier full of bullets before she headed toward the discarded rifles.

Scirye pointed overhead. “Kles, help Leech and Bayang.”

“But Lady—,” the griffin tried to protest.

“You can protect me best by distracting the freebooters up above,” she said. “Now go!”

Kles bowed his head. “As you wish,” the griffin said, and sprang into the air. With rapid beats of his wings, he caught up with Leech as he flew upward. They darted over Taqqiq, who was already climbing onto Bayang.

Leech took stock as soon as he popped out of the hole. Purple fire imps glowed in a handful of lanterns that the invaders had brought and which had now been set on the floor. By their light, he could see that he was in a vast circular chamber into which a dozen corridors led. The room was easily several hundred feet in diameter and eight stories high from the floor to the center of the dome. An ankle-deep layer of fog billowed around above the floor.

There were about fifty freebooters in a ring around the hole, some in fur coats, others in white parkas. Their uniform trousers were patched—as if the ex-soldiers had replaced their army-issued gear with whatever they could steal.

Most of them looked as stunned as their comrades who had been captured below. The raiders had formed a circle to make a last stand—only to have Taqqiq and the others erupt from below into the very middle of their formation. Sandwiched now between two sets of enraged defenders, most of the intruders had lost heart.

Five of them, though, were raising rifles toward Leech and Kles. A man with a pistol—most likely their officer—was hollering at the rest of his survivors to shoot.

Leech's first reaction was to cringe and duck, but suddenly he heard the voice:
Fool, you can't outfly a bullet, but you might be able to outfly the eyes aiming at you.

Guessing that the only way he was going to survive was to let the voice take over, he gave in. Immediately, he found himself raising the ring over his head as he swooped down.

The griffin, wings half-folded against his body, raced past. “Tarkär, Tarkär!” Shrieking his war cry, Kles struck the officer's head with four sets of paws. It was as if a whirlwind of claws and a beak had engulfed the officer. Screaming, the man fell to his knees, his revolver thudding onto the ice and skidding away.

Then it was Leech's turn. He swept his arm in an arc that knocked the first rifle aside and by luck his backstroke struck the head of the second rifleman. Leech crossed his legs like a skater and twisted as he spun.

His forward swing with the ring missed the first rifleman's head, but Leech's momentum carried him into the freebooter so that he stumbled backward.

As Leech went on pirouetting through the riflemen, he glimpsed the remaining three turning around to shoot him. That was their last mistake.

Taqqiq struck one of those three, bowling him over. Bayang had stretched a foreleg and knocked over the remaining pair.

Now,
the voice said,
knock out the dragon while she isn't looking.

Leech had been waiting for something like this. “No,” he said to himself. He spun sideways as he and the voice fought for control, the cavern whirling around crazily. And then he was himself again—though he was not sure how.

As he straightened up, the rest of the company were surging up Bayang's back and sweeping over their enemies like a fanged tidal wave.

Having taken care of his opponent, Taqqiq bounded toward the nearest freebooter and sprang into the air.

Horrified at the sight of the open jaws, the freebooter flung his rifle away and thrust his hands into the air.
“Jeg give efter!”
he cried.

In an amazing display of control, Taqqiq's jaws snapped shut and the wolf thumped against the freebooter instead, knocking him over. As the man cowered beneath the wolf, Taqqiq's legs trembled as he fought to contain his rage.

All around them, guns and knives were clattering on the floor as the remaining freebooters shouted the same thing in Danish—Leech assumed they were surrendering because they were also putting their hands over their heads.

“Leech, Kles,” Bayang called. “Watch over Scirye and Roxanna.”

The griffin's eyes were glittering with a mad battle fury, but Leech called to him, “Kles, Scirye needs you.”

The griffin's head jerked up straight as he fought to control himself. “Yes, thank you,” he said in a ragged voice.

Leech circled back with Kles next to him. He was glad to see a squad of bears and wolves that had formed a wall in front of his friends as they climbed up from the lower level. Upach led the way, followed by Roxanna with her borrowed rifle with the bandolier hanging from one shoulder. Scirye came next and finally Koko, both moving with shuffling steps on the ice.

“Is the fighting over?” the badger asked Leech nervously.

“All but the cheering,” the boy said, hovering overhead.

“Aw, shucks,” Koko said, trying to sound disappointed but not doing a very good job of acting.

Sinking her claws into the rim of the hole, Bayang flapped her good wing and managed to haul herself upward to join her friends.

By that time, the prisoners were on their knees, with their hands clasped on top of their heads. Uncle Resak, bleeding from several wounds, was leaning on his staff as he spoke Danish to one of them.

When Uncle Resak growled something at him, the freebooter started to rise angrily but sank back down on his knees when he saw Taqqiq slinking toward him, ready to leap.

With the help of his staff, the bear-man turned his back on the invader. “This worm,” Uncle Resak said contemptuously, “claims that he is a patriot who is fighting to protect Danish territory and wants his company to be treated as prisoners of war. I told him that the war was over, so that even if he was a soldier once, he's nothing more than a bandit now.”

Roxanna looked ready to spit at the Dane. “This scum gives no quarter. They shoot anyone they capture. You ought to do to them what you do to the hunters in the Wastes.”

“The time for that kind of thing is over. I'm afraid more that these fellows know about the location of my home now.” Uncle Resak nodded to Roxanna. “I'm going to ask Prince Tarkhun to act as our liaison to the other humans.”

“I'm sure he'll be only too happy to help,” Roxanna promised.

“As the first friendly act, we'll turn these humans over to him for trial.” Uncle Resak gestured toward his prisoners.

Roxanna glared at the freebooters. “This scum is lucky that you're more civilized than they are.” Her angry eyes made it plain what she would have done to them.

Despite everything, Uncle Resak had to chuckle. “I suppose you could say we're more humane than humans.” He waved his good paw. “I release you from your promise to me. Soon it won't matter who you tell.”

Bayang looked around, worried. “But where's Roland?”

“Slinking away if he knows what's good for him,” Koko snorted.

“Uncle, his freebooters would have invaded only if you had something he wanted,” Bayang said urgently.

Uncle Resak hesitated and at that moment a scarred dragon rumbled out of a distant tunnel. Iron bands armored his chest.

“Aren't we ever going to get rid of you pests?” Badik called.

Behind him lumbered the biggest Tizheruk that Leech had seen. The head was easily fifteen feet long. Just beyond its gill was a bulge about six feet long.
That,
Leech decided,
must be some parasite.

The Tizheruk was moving too slow and was too far away to worry about now. But Badik soared into the air. “You haven't won yet, beast,” he cried.

And then he swooped down, straight at Uncle Resak.

Howling in rage and fear, the clan warriors raced to protect Uncle Resak, but the plunging Badik was already a green blur. Bayang knew they would never reach their leader in time.

Roxanna, standing as coolly as if she were at a target range, fired methodically, working the rifle's bolt each time to eject the old cartridge and put in a new one from the magazine, re-aiming, and pulling the trigger again.

Three shots missed and the fourth pinged off Badik's armored hide harmlessly.

Bayang knew it was up to her, dragon to dragon, as it should be. Crouching, she unfurled her wings, feeling the pain already in the injured one. She would need to time her spring just right to intercept Badik….

Now!

She ignored the agony as she brought her wings down in a great stroke, hurtling into the air at a point barely a dozen feet above and away from Uncle Resak. She crashed into Badik with the noise of two locomotives colliding.

Her momentum carried him backward several yards, and rearing upward, she brought up all her legs and tried to rake him with her claws. Metal screeched as her claws scored his armor, and then his paws were able to grab hers. The two dragons twisted chest to chest, grappling with one another in an aerial wrestling match. Bayang, though, knew her injured wing would not allow her to stay aloft for very for long. She had to bring the combat to the ground as quickly as possible.

Whipping her head around on her long neck, she tried to use her skull like a club, hoping to stun him so that he would fall to the floor. However, Badik ducked; at the same time he swept his long tail with a whoosh against Bayang and flung Bayang tumbling toward her right.

Scirye gave a cry as Badik darted forward, with talons ready to gut Bayang. But Bayang had pulled her injured wing in tight against her body while flapping her good one. The motion sent her rolling to the side so that her enemy hurtled past.

Badik nearly hit the far wall before he was able to halt. He did a swift loop so he could face her again. “You'll hound me no more, Bayang of the Moonglow,” he puffed, “because today I'm going to crush you as I have so many of your miserable clan.”

“And today I'll pay you back for some of the misery you've caused, Badik of the Fire Rings,” Bayang panted. Even though her wing pained her, she tried to fly normally because she didn't dare reveal the weakness to her foe.

Screaming their war cries, they clashed beneath the domed ceiling, swooping and circling as graceful as hawks but far more deadly. Claws clacked together in blow and counterblow. Heads darted and ducked as they tried to tear at each other's throats.

Bayang could see that trying to fly and fight in the cold was getting to the both of them. Their chests heaved already and their breath fountained from their nostrils in steamy plumes that wreathed their heads. They could not continue fighting in the air for long.

Badik must have realized it too. With a sudden motion of his wings he bolted toward the ceiling, trying to gain some height.

Bayang's own wounded wing was sending jagged bolts of fire through her with every stroke now.
You've waited all your life for this moment,
she thought to herself.
You can't give up now
. So she drove herself upward in a spiral.

Despite her best efforts, though, she could not get ahead of him, nor could he gain the advantage either. Her wing was a constant torture now and she was growing very tired.

Then Bayang heard Leech cry out, “Don't die, Bayang. I need you. We need you.”

“Yes,” Scirye shouted encouragingly. “Yashe, yashe!”

Kles, Leech, and Koko joined their voices to hers and soon Roxanna was copying them, echoing the ancient battle cry.

They were Bayang's friends, her true clan. She was fighting for them now and not just the folk of the Moonglow.

They're depending on you,
she told herself. She felt the energy surge through her.

Then the clan warriors, ringing Uncle Resak protectively, began to bay and roar their approval.

She re-doubled her efforts so that she rose a few precious yards above Badik, but her wing was now a sheet of fire.

This will have to do,
she said to herself. In a few seconds, she would not be able to bear the pain any longer and the wing would become useless.

When she was young, her old instructor, Sergeant Pandai, had pounded the same lesson over and over into Bayang's skull. She could hear the raspy voice even now: “Always control your speed and direction. A reckless dragon is a dead dragon.”

Bayang was desperate. So she did something that would have fetched her a cuff on the ear from the sergeant: She snapped her wings against her sides so that she plummeted like a steel tank. She felt Badik's fangs gash her neck—but fortunately not near a major artery or vein. And then she thudded into him, an instant later, using the claws of all four paws to slash whatever she could reach—wing, chest, leg, or head.

Badik screeched in agony. There was no song that could have sounded sweeter to Bayang. As he fell, she plunged with him, her claws continuing to tear and gash.

They crashed hard against the ice, throwing up crystalline shards. Badik was beneath her and she heard his wing bones snap and he let out a groan.

In torment herself, Bayang raised her head, trying to focus her bleary eyes. When she saw his exposed throat, she opened her jaws wide.

But just as she was about to seize his windpipe and choke the life from him, she heard Roland shout, “I'm here.”

Bayang started to raise her head to look for him and Badik shoved her off.

The next moment, there was an explosion and Badik and the room disappeared in a blinding sheet of white light.