Dagger's Point (Shadow series) (24 page)

“What is it?”

“I don’t know.” This was a pendant, perhaps like the lumps of fused metal Tanis had picked up earlier, but this one was intact. Made of the same white metal as the dagger, it depicted a stylized eye that Jael recognized immediately. She’d seen this symbol once before on a scrap of ancient leather, which the mysterious elf Chyrie had left for her when she’d undergone the elven passage ceremony more than a year ago. Aunt Shadow had told Jael that it was a symbol of the Kresh, and that Farryn had worn it on a pendant that held his soul.

There was magic in this pendant, great magic the likes of which Jael had never felt before. This magic, however, did not tingle through her body; it swept through her soul like a tornado, tearing away everything in its path. Jael gasped, but her hands were already lowering the pendant over her head. She did not move, but she could feel herself straightening somehow, as if she suddenly grew taller, stronger, but from within.

“Are you keeping that?” Tanis asked curiously. “Look, here’s more of that mail, too. But we’d better try to get that eggshell and get out of here before the Bluebright wears off.”

“It won’t wear off.”

“Huh?” Tanis squinted at Jael through the darkness. “What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.” Jael wasn’t certain herself, but even as she spoke she knew it for truth. “Look, keep the mail, as much of it as you can find, and any other Kresh blades, even if they’re broken or melted.”

“What good are all the bits?” Tanis asked, but he was scrabbling up the pieces, stuffing them into the sack he’d brought. “The gold’s worth more.”

“Not out here.” Jael bolted upright as a scratching sound caught her attention. “What’s that?”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“We’d better find that eggshell and get out of here,” Jael said reluctantly. “I heard something moving around. There’s no guessing what lives in here besides dragons.” She could not find in herself, however, the slightest trace of fear. If there was something dangerous living in these caves, it would find Jaellyn more than a match for it, and that was that.

Beyond the nest was a winding tunnel that likely led outside, but Jael did not pause to explore it, drawing Tanis after her deeper into the hill. They passed another abandoned nest, but it, too, was too old, and they did not stop to explore it.

A strong scent of decayed meat wafted down from one tunnel, and Jael speculated that any kill fresh enough to smell like that meant a recent nest, but she also heard movement from that tunnel, so they passed it by. After several more tries, they at last found an empty nest where the eggshells were still fresh and white. Tanis selected the largest piece he could find that would fit inside the box—an entire eggshell would have been almost as long as Tanis was tall—and closed the box, turning the catch. Jael felt a sudden surge in the magic of the box, and told Tanis as much; when he opened the box again, the eggshell was gone, and the Book of Whispering Serpents lay inside on the cushioning folds of material. Jael would have opened the book, but Tanis took it, stuffing it quickly into the sack.

“Look at the book later,” he said irritably. “For now, let’s get out of here.”

Jael felt an inexplicable burst of anger, and she was amazed to realize that her hand had gone to the hilt of her sword. Gods, had she actually almost drawn on
Tanisl

“Are you sure you know the way back?” he asked, unaware of her anger.

“Of course,” Jael said impatiently. What kind of fool couldn’t find his way back through such a direct route as they’d taken? Why, they’d hardly turned half a dozen times.

Jael led the way so quickly that Tanis panted in his efforts to keep up, but she did not slow. The heady euphoria of the Bluebright was long gone now, but she was full of another drug—the drug of power, of wholeness, of strength. Her sword almost called to her, and she wanted to draw it, wanted to feel it light and alive in her hand.

Abruptly she stopped. The tunnel they needed to take was ahead of them, but she heard movement in the darkness there— strong, deliberate movement.

“I hear it, too,” Tanis whispered. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Jael whispered back. “It’s large, whatever it is. A hatchling, I think.”

“But what’s it doing away from its nest?” Tanis asked worriedly.

“Maybe when they’re old enough, they prowl the caves,” Jael said, shrugging. “I don’t know anything about dragon hatchlings. Who does? But I can smell it now, and it smells like dragon.”

“What can we do?” Tanis whispered.

“If we can get a little farther,” Jael said, “we’ll reach the side tunnel where we found the first nest. It should be well after dark now, so we can get away.”

As if in answer, another scratching sound came from somewhere to one side, down one of the passages they hadn’t explored. Other sounds came from somewhere behind them.

“They’re everywhere,” Tanis said tensely.

“They must’ve scented us,” Jael said calmly. “I thought we wouldn’t smell like prey through this liniment, but some of our own scent must’ve come through. Come on, this way.” She led Tanis down a side passage.

“Where does this go?”

Jael paused, feeling the stone around her.

“Out the west side of the hill,” she said. “We can work our way back south once we’re outside.”

Suddenly the scent of dragon filled her nose, hot and musky and metallic, and Jael’s sword was in her hand before she realized she’d drawn it, before the bulk of the hatchling nearly filled the tunnel ahead of them, appearing as if by magic. Tanis gasped and drew his sword also, but Jael had already stepped forward, her sword raised and moving in hypnotic flashes of reflected lantern light.

Jael heard the hiss of Tanis’s sword being drawn from its scabbard, but that fact was as irrelevant as the light that glinted off her sword and the dragon’s scales. For once in her life Jael was calm and sure. She’d kill this dragon, and if not, it would kill her, but she’d die with a whole soul, strong and brave as a warrior should be.

The dragon roared its challenge, and Jael struck; fortunately the large passage that allowed the hatchling to maneuver also gave Jael room for her strokes, so long as she kept her pattern tight.

The hatchling roared angrily and struck with one foreclaw, but its attack was slow and clumsy. Jael wondered almost idly if it had ever dealt with live prey before, much less prey able to defend itself and even to attack.

Yes, she’d kill this dragon, slice it to slivers and gorge herself on its bloody flesh to feed her ravening hunger—

Startled, Jael faltered, falling back a step. Fortunately Tanis stepped forward, keeping the hatchling engaged while Jael recovered.

Where had that come from? Jael wasn’t hungry; they’d eaten only a couple of hours earlier. And fond as she was of dragon, she certainly wasn’t interested in raw, bloody meat. What had—

Hunger. Fury. Confusion.

All of Jael’s cool self-possession faded, and she almost staggered as alien emotions, frightening in their raw intensity, surged through her. For a moment she fought merely to hold her sword, wanting to fling the strange metal away from her, leap at the hatchling and attack with tooth and nail alone, like a—

—a beast?

Jael fought down a surge of panic. How could she fight a dragon hatchling in its own lair, feeling its own feelings? Gods, could she even wound it without feeling its pain?

“Can you find any safe passage?” Tanis shouted, dodging a forepaw tipped with razor-sharp claws.

Jael’s head spun. Retreat? Was this cowardly churl suggesting she
retreat
before this puny reptile?
Hunger. Anger.
Why, she could dice this overgrown lizard into pieces small enough to
tear, rend the soft flesh, crunch rich marrow from the bones.

Gods, where could she flee from her own mind?

Here, only two places: into death, or into stone.

Jael stumbled backward into the wall of the passageway, trusting Tanis to keep the hatchling busy for a moment longer. She laid both hands flat against the wet stone, concentrating, and the hatchling roared its surprise as the stone under its feet softened, enveloping the three paws still resting there. Tanis immediately took in what was happening and danced back to dodge the reaching forepaw and to avoid being sucked in himself.

“I think that’ll hold it,” Tanis panted, watching the hatchling rage. “But we’d better get away from here before the noise draws others.”

Now that she had a moment to concentrate, she could shut out the furious raw drives of the hatchling—gods, if only she’d been able to do this years ago!—and reach again for stone, feel the intricate net of crisscrossing passageways through the hill. Dimly she could sense other hatchlings, but her consciousness of stone was much stronger, more immediate, and she couldn’t place where the young dragons were.

“The second passageway on the left as we go back,” Jael panted. “Hurry!”

Tanis didn’t waste his breath on a reply, but followed Jael, picking up the lantern he’d placed on the ground. They trotted along as quickly as the slippery and uneven footing would allow, but they could hear the enraged roar of the hatchling behind them—and, worse, a louder roar that likely signified an even more enraged mother trying to reach her offspring in a passage too small to accommodate her larger bulk.

“This way.” Jael started to pull Tanis into the passageway, then stopped. Ahead she heard a distinct scrabbling sound, and the scent of dragon was plain in the steamy air. “Not this way.”

“Well, where, then?” Tanis panted, a note of panic creeping into his voice.

Desperately Jael felt the stone again, and there she found an answer.

“Up,” she said.

“Up?” Tanis looked up at the solid ceiling. “Where?”

Jael dug her fingers into stone. It melted obligingly before her touch, forming cup-shaped depressions deep enough to make good footholds.

“I’ll go first,” she said. “Then hand me the lantern, then you.”

“Go where?” Tanis asked helplessly, but he was boosting Jael up from behind.

Jael reached the top of her makeshift ladder and laid her hand against the stone of the ceiling, feeling the thin skin separating her from the upper caverns. This was more complicated— making the stone flow aside without letting it drop down on herself or Tanis—and she had to work slowly, every moment aware of the scrabbling noises growing louder from the side tunnel. At last the opening was wide enough to climb through to the tunnel above, and she scrambled up—gods, no time to form a ridge to brace against—then reached down for the lantern. Tanis handed it up, but he was already scrambling up the footholds Jael had made.

“Hurry!” he said. “It’s coming!”

A roar confirmed his fears, and Jael quickly set the lantern aside, grasping both of Tanis’s wrists and bracing her feet firmly. Tanis trusted her grip, giving her his entire weight as his feet shoved desperately upward, and then he was rolling away from the opening even as a razor-tipped claw sliced through the air where he had just been. Jael rolled away also, just in time, for the hatchling thrust a forepaw actually up and into the opening. Without thinking, Jael drew her dagger and slashed blindly, and the hatchling screamed as the severed paw flew free of the spouting limb.

Now Jael could hear other hatchlings gathering below, the pungent scent of dragon almost burning in her nose, even over the metallic stench of dragon’s blood from the severed limb. She kicked the repulsive remnant down through the opening and crawled over to join Tanis. He helped her to her feet and took the lantern.

“Better lead the way,” he told her. “If the stone between the upper passages and the lower ones is as thin in other spots as it was there, we might fall through.”

His warning was a good one. Jael hugged the wall, maintaining a constant light touch on the stone, and several times she had to warn Tanis away from solid-looking spots on the floor where in actuality the mud covered only the thinnest layer of stone. Several times she considered making a new opening to the lower level of caves, but each time she began, she immediately sensed dragons below, and wondered if they weren’t somehow tracking Jael and Tanis even through the stone dividing the levels.

At last Jael stopped, shaking her head.

“Wait,” she said. “This isn’t working. I thought we could get past the nests or the hatchlings, but they’re following us. Either that, or there’re more dragons and hatchlings in this hill than we thought.”

“So what can we do?” Tanis asked slowly. “Is there a way out from up here?”

Jael shook her head again.

“I’ll have to make one,” she said. “This is the best spot I can feel anywhere nearby, and it’s still pretty thick. It’s going to take some work.”

Tanis squinted at her through the darkness.

“The Bluebright hasn’t worn off yet?”

“It’s not the Bluebright anymore.” Jael grinned, touching the pendant. “It’s this. It’s not going away. I came looking for a cure, and I found it.”

“It isn’t going to do you much good if you end up in a dragon’s belly,” Tanis said practically. “Can you get us out of here before every dragon in the place gets stirred up?”

“I’ll try,” Jael said, focusing on the stone. It was terribly thick, and opening it would be complicated—she could sense weak places she’d have to work her way around, or else the weight of stone over the opening would give way on top of them. It was a frightening prospect, and Jael was painfully reminded that although she had the power to mold stone to her will, she had little experience using that power.

Grimly Jael set her hands and mind against the stone. She sank deep into stone, parting layer by layer. Twice she had to stop and reroute her efforts as stresses changed, weakening the walls she made. Once she leaped backward as the ceiling of her tunnel cracked and crumbled. By the time she smelled the fresh night air, it seemed that the entire night had passed, although Jael doubted it had been more than an hour since she’d begun. Trembling with the effort, she cautiously widened the opening, then peered outside.

“Is it all right?” Tanis murmured. “Where are we?”