Crown of Dragonfire (22 page)

They blazed together
like dragonfire, and she cried out, and he closed his eyes, lay atop her. She
wrapped her arms around him, kissing his tears.

"It's all right, my
prince." She stroked his hair. "Why do you weep?"

"Because this is
precious," he whispered. "Because this is good. Because I'm happy."

She kissed his cheeks
again and again until his tears were gone, then grinned and bit her lip. "Let's
do it again."

For the first time in
his life, Vale laughed.

 
 
MELIORA

They walked through the caves,
her halo lighting their way, seeking a way out from darkness.

The wounds on her cheek
still stung, a throbbing pain that worked down her jaw and neck. Her belly
ached with hunger, her throat begged for water, and she was so weary—she had
not slept for two days and nights—that her limbs shook. But worse than all was
the fear, a coiling beast inside her. A fear of the dark. A fear of losing her
way in shadows, of a slow death underground.

She turned toward the
others. The light of her halo painted them red and orange. Elory walked holding
a fresh leaf to what remained of her ear, and she held her sickle in her other
hand. Sweat beaded on her brow despite the cold, and her eyes were sunken.
Blood still stained her ragged tunic. Lucem walked at her side, his hand placed
against the small of her back, shepherding her onward, and he held his spear.

"Lucem, have you ever
walked this far deep?" Meliora asked.

The young man shook his
head. "Never. I've only ever taken a few steps into these caves." He grinned. "Exciting,
isn't it? We're explorers!"

Meliora groaned. "Exciting
is discovering an almond in a bowl of walnuts. We need to find a way out. We
cannot die here in the darkness. Not only our lives are at stake but all of
Requiem."

"Cheery one, you are."
Lucem nodded. "No pressure or anything. Only an entire nation depending on us.
Maybe a little whistling will ease the tension?"

He rounded his lips and
began to whistle an old tune when the shrieks rose behind them.

They all grimaced. The
screams sounded far away, almost inaudible, but chilled Meliora's spine.

"Dark seraphim," Elory
whispered. "They're breaking in."

Meliora cursed. "We
need to hurry. We need to see if these tunnels lead to another exit in the
mountains."

"That or find a hidden
army in here." Lucem nodded. "About a thousand troops hiding away could really
come in handy around now." He yanked at his collar. "Especially if they had the
keys to these things."

Meliora groaned and
began walking quickly, and the others followed. No, they would not find a key
here in the darkness. The Keymaker still lived many miles away, and Meliora's
hope for ever finding him began to fade. Even should she escape these caves,
how would she make it across the mountains with the dark seraphim in
pursuit—the most dangerous criminals to have ever lived in Saraph?

I was a foolish
girl,
she thought.
Just a foolish princess with delusions of grandeur,
sure that I could become a savior, a messiah to Requiem.
She lowered her
head.
Just a silly girl. I won't even make it to the Keymaker, let alone
return with salvation and lead my people home.

Perhaps sensing her
turmoil, Elory walked closer. The young woman hung her sickle from her belt,
reached out, and took Meliora's hand in hers. The hand was so small, like the
hand of a child, and Elory didn't stand taller than Meliora's shoulder, and yet
there was comfort here, there was strength that Meliora knew she could lean on.

"We'll find a way out."
Elory's eyes shone in the firelight. "I know this. You did not fly through fire
to die in darkness. When I saw you fly above a nation, a great dragon all in
silver and gold, I knew that someday you would lead us home. I believe in you,
Meliora. You led us this far. You will lead us onward."

Who says I want to
be a leader?
Meliora thought. Her eyes stung and her chest constricted.
I'm
just a princess, that's all. Just a pampered princess, innocent, naive. I'm no
heroine like the great Priestess Issari or Queen Gloriae. I cannot become the
leader you want.

Yet when Meliora looked
into her sister's brown eyes, she saw such hope there, such admiration, that
Meliora could not bear to crush that light, even if that light should soon
fade. She nodded and squeezed Elory's hand.

"We'll find a way out,
Elory. I promise you."

The scream sounded
again behind them. It seemed closer now. The dark seraphim had entered the
caves. Meliora tightened her lips and walked on.

The tunnel soon forked,
and Meliora hesitated for a moment. One tunnel seemed wider, sloping upward;
the other was narrow, sinking deeper.

"Which way do we go?"
Elory asked. "The wider tunnel is a more natural choice, but the dark seraphim
will know this. They'll follow us there."

Meliora thought for a
moment. "Wait here." She stepped into the narrow tunnel that delved downward,
tore off a strip of her cloak, and placed it on the ground. Then she walked
back to the fork. "We take the wider tunnel."

As they walked onward,
Meliora frowned and stared at the tunnel wall. She paused, moved closer, and
let her halo illuminate the stone. The surface was smooth, and engravings
appeared upon it.

"We're not the first
ones to enter here." She placed her hand against the wall. "Look."

Figures were engraved
onto the wall, life-sized: a goat, a lion, an eagle, and a man. Runes appeared
around them in a language Meliora did not recognize. In the crackling
firelight, the figures seemed almost to move.

"Who would enter so
deeply into these caves to engrave these?" Elory asked.

Meliora frowned. "I'm
not sure these are caves." She shuddered. "They might be man-made tunnels."

Lucem examined the engravings.
"Man-made? The lion might have helped a bit." He clawed the air. "Claws and
all."

They kept walking, and
the tunnel grew wider, the walls and floor smoothing out. The firelight
revealed engravings on the ceiling, these ones of flaming wheels. An acidic
smell filled the air, and distant shrieks echoed like ghosts.

"Look at that." Elory
pointed.

A towering engraving
appeared upon a wall, showing a mountain of corpses. Men, women, children—all
lay dead, eyes closed, mouths open in anguish, and above them blazed a fiery
wagon wheel. More runes appeared here, coiling around the mountain of the dead.

"I know this symbol,"
Meliora whispered. "The flaming wheel." She shuddered. "The wheel of the Living
Creatures."

"The Living Creatures?"
Lucem asked. "Doesn't sound so bad. Better than the Living Monsters or the
Undead Creatures." A shriek rose from behind, and Lucem winced. "And better
than the dark seraphim that follow."

Meliora wasn't so sure.
"There's an old legend of them in Saraph, but few ever repeat it. It's said
that after the fall from Edinnu, when the seraphim lost the rebellion against
the gods, we wandered this world, hurt and afraid and alone. It's said that the
Eight Gods—the ones we rebelled against—sought to slay us in our new world. A
wheel of fire appeared in the sky that day, and creatures descended from it."
Meliora shuddered. "It's said that the Living Creatures were four, but that
their wings were connected, so that they had to always walk together. It's said
they killed many seraphim."

Lucem sighed. "Nothing
but trouble since you two showed up. I was enjoying my little hill and carob
trees, and now it's dark seraphim, Living Creatures, and stars know what's
next."

They continued walking,
and the tunnel kept curving, branching off, a dark labyrinth. At every fork,
Meliora placed a scrap of her cloak in one way, then took the other path,
trying to remember the way, soon realizing she was lost. Yet no matter how
winding the path, the screeches rose louder behind them. Soon Meliora could
make out voices.

"They walk into
darkness, comrades! Our meals scurry ahead."

Laughter rolled through
the caves.

"They seek to trick us
with cloth!"

"We smell them,
comrades! Smell their fear. Follow the scent! Drink their blood."

Lucem grimaced. "They're
getting closer."

Meliora glared at him. "We're
in a tunnel. The sky is up. The sun is hot. Any more obvious facts you want to
remind me of?"

He groaned. "Yes—we
need to move faster. Come on!"

They began to run. The
tunnels twisted madly, and Meliora no longer bothered leaving scraps of cloth; pointless,
if the seraphim were tracking their scent. The tunnels widened, soon the size
of temple halls. Meliora's halo barely lit the shadows here, but she thought
she made out engravings of battles across the walls and ceiling. She glimpsed an
eagle's head, a lion's, a goat's, engraved larger than men upon the walls, and
everywhere the stone corpses and flaming wheels. Here was a great tomb for the
memory of that ancient slaughter, the Eight Gods' last vengeance against the
seraphim.

"We smell them ahead, siblings!"
rose a cry—the shrill voice of Leyleet. "We smell them, those who slew one
among us. We will split them open! We will pull out their ribs! We will saw
them in half! We will keep them alive so they scream!"

Lucem cringed as he
ran. "Wow, they can saw you in half and keep you alive? That's talent!"

"I'd rather they picked
up painting," Elory said, running at his side. "Maybe flower arrangement?"

Lucem flashed her a
grin. "You made a funny! That's great."

"Shut it, you two, and
run!" Meliora said, racing down the shadowy nave.

As the laughter of the
dark seraphim rolled behind, they ran on down the chasm. In the darkness,
Meliora could only see a few steps ahead, and she skidded to a halt when she
reached the dead end. Elory and Lucem stopped with her, panting and drenched
with sweat.

A stone wall towered
ahead, and upon it was engraved a massive wagon wheel, taller than Meliora,
stony flames rising from it.

"Damn it," Meliora
said. "A dead end."

Elory spun around and
drew her sickle. Lucem hefted his spear, and Meliora raised her sword. In the
darkness the screeches of the dark seraphim still sounded, coming closer with
every heartbeat.

"Blood!" they cried.

"Bones!"

"Organs!"

"Kill, crush, eat!"

Meliora took a deep
breath. "We fight. Here is our final stand." She raised her chin. "There are
fifteen of them, only three of us, but Requiem has always faced unsurmountable
odds, and we've always overcome. For Requiem! For a memory of dragons. For—"

"Will you be quiet and
help me?" Lucem said.

She spun around to see
him grabbing the stony wheel engraved onto the wall, tugging at its spokes. "What
are you doing, Lucem?"

He groaned. "Thought I'd
plant a flower bed. What do you think I'm doing? It's a door, Your Highness!
Help me open it."

Meliora's eyes widened.
Indeed, as Lucem tugged, the wagon wheel engraving shed dust, creaking on the
wall. She grabbed another stone spoke, and Elory grabbed another, and they
pulled together.

The wheel creaked, then
turned an inch. Another inch.

The wall trembled. They
kept tugging, and the wheel gave a great turn, a full foot, and then loosened
with showering dust. A lock clicked somewhere deep in the wall, and the great
stone wheel swung inward like a door.

A chamber awaited
beyond, awash with golden light. Elory entered the chamber first, followed by
Lucem. Meliora entered last, then shoved herself against the round door,
pushing it shut with a thud.

The sound of the dark
seraphim faded behind the stone.

For just an instant,
Meliora felt a sense of relief, of safety . . . and then she heard the
creaking.

"Oh stars," Elory whispered,
reaching out to grasp Meliora's hand.

Slowly, Meliora turned
around from the door. She felt the blood drain from her face.

The chamber was large
and round, surrounded with decorative columns carved into the walls. Old bones
and skulls lay strewn across the floor. In the chamber's center rose a stone dais,
and a great wheel of fire surrounded it, spinning and casting out light. In the
center of the fire stood four creatures, glittering like burnished bronze.

They had the bodies of
men but cloven hooves, and each had four faces and four wings. One was the face
of a man, the second of a goat, the third of a lion, and the fourth of an
eagle. The creatures were joined to one another by the tips of their wings,
forcing them to stand abreast. Eyes blinked all across those wings, gazing in
all directions.

"The Living Creatures,"
Meliora whispered. "They still exist."

Lucem leaned toward
her. "The sky is up, Mel. The sky is up."

The Living Creatures
took a step forward across their stone dais. Their four bodies moved as one,
connected at the wings. Their many heads stared, and the eyes upon their wings
blinked. Not only the flaming wheel cast light, but the creatures' bronze
bodies emitted a light of their own, searing and cruel.

"Living Creatures!"
Meliora said, kneeling before them. "We are Vir Requis, children of the stars,
natives of this world. We come to praise your name! We—"

"You are of Saraph."

The sixteen heads spoke
together—lions, goats, eagles, and men all uttering the words as one. The voices
were deep, echoing, metallic, voices from another world.

"I am Vir Requis—"
Meliora began.

The heads creaked,
turning toward her, the eyes glittering. The Living Creatures took another step
forward, and their arms rose, tipped with crimson claws. "We smell the smell of
Saraph. We see the halo burn. The foul seraphim, traitors of the gods—we fed
upon them. Yet they imprisoned us in stone. For five thousand years we lingered
here, buried alive, but we never forgot your scent. The stench of betrayal. The
stench of traitors." The flaming wheels spun madly around the creatures. Their
claws rose, pointing at her, and the creatures' eyes blazed, casting out white
light. "You will burn in the wheel of fire!"