Dark Magic (17 page)

Hallr blinked at him. “The gnome king... We will have to talk after this business is concluded.”

Brand fought not to smile. “Agreed,” he said, attempting to be as stern as possible.

A collective gasp went up from the crowd then. Brand turned to follow their gaze.

“Oh no,” he heard Telyn whisper. Then he saw it.

It was the Earthlight. Something was definitely wrong, terribly wrong. The topmost of the three Great Vents had come unhinged. It fell as they watched, and such was its fantastic size and distance that it fell for a several seconds, sagging down to the floor of the cavern.

No one on the platform knew what to do. They simply shuffled about, stared and murmured. Gasps and cries of beseeching words rose from their mouths. None of the Kindred could believe what they were seeing. But there it was, plain for every eye to see: the Great Vents of the Earthlight had broken.

The right end of the massive length of metal slammed down into the works and the boilers Brand knew to be there. A flare of white radiation ballooned. And then a few seconds later a most tremendous sound, a fantastic
CLANG
swept over them. The sound was unlike anything Brand had ever heard. It struck with a physical force, rocking everyone on their feet.

One unlucky priest, having pushed back his white cowl and leaned out from the platform to stare at the unmaking of history before his very eyes, lost his footing. He toppled and fell without a word into the cone, and was gone in an instant from sight.

Then a new sound swept over the crowd, it was not one of panic, an emotion never exhibited by the Kindred, but instead of horror.

Brand felt too, deep in his soul, the wrenching grip of horror. He knew what he had just left there, at the bottom of those vents, on the very side where the topmost had come unhinged. He had left the leathery egg there.

“Brand, could it be the egg?” asked Telyn. He noticed for the first time that she gripped his chest.

“How could it be? How could such a small thing cause such damage?”

“What egg?” demanded Gudrin, at his other side and tugging at his arm.

He looked down into her face, and her eyes searched his in desperation.

“I brought back the dragon’s last egg. Sigrid’s egg. We thought it would be a great trophy for Hallr.”

Gudrin’s mouth sagged open. “You brought a wurm’s egg
here?
”

“Whelp!” roared Hallr, who had been listening, “you have not the craft to hunt dragons! You have brought doom to us this day!” He struck Brand a great blow to the mouth, which staggered him. Brand felt the axe stir excitedly, but he ignored it. He felt in his heart, that if it were true, that if somehow he had caused this tragedy, he should allow himself to be cast into the cone of vapors as well.

Gudrin grabbed Hallr’s arm before he could do more. He shoved her away, snarling, but left Brand alone.

The clanmaster cried for his personal guard and rushed down the steps, pushing down anyone who didn’t get out of the way quickly enough. Red cloaks flapping, Hallr’s guardsmen raced after him.

All around the great cavern alarms were now sounding. Hammers struck gongs with rhythmic blows. Horns rose and were winded, their long, low mournful notes calling the Kindred to arms. Atop the seven towers and the great citadel itself, Kindred weaponeers, ant-like in the distance, gathered and began working their machines.

Brand touched Gudrin, gaining her attention.

“How is it that a single egg could cause all this?” he asked her, his eyes haunted.

“Even a dragon child has two parents, Brand,” she told him, as if he were the simplest of peasants.

Brand let his hand slip away, understanding now. He saw another white-hot flare as the raging dragon blew its flame again, so far away its huge body was still invisible in the distance.

Chapter Seventeen

Fafnir’s Vengeance

Brand snapped into action finally, after his initial shock faded. Perhaps, he could help deal with this disaster, which he apparently had caused. He ran down the endless steps that wound around the cone, taking two or three at a time. Telyn was right behind him, her light, agile steps keeping up easily.

They passed dozens of hurrying Kindred and Brand headed directly for the stables. There, waiting for them, was the roan. As far as Brand had seen, he was the only full-sized horse beneath Snowdon or on it.

Corralled with a dozen large mountain rams, picking him out was easy, but getting the saddle strapped on wasn’t. He was still skittish, and all the excitement going on and Brand’s hurried demeanor made things worse.

“Let me do it,” said Telyn, laying a gentle hand on Brand.

He nodded, and she had the horse bridled and saddled in less than two minutes. He marveled at her rapport with the creature.

“I was going to leave you here and chase the monster myself,” said Brand, “but I can see that you are my indispensible pilot for this animal. Fortunately, you don’t weigh much, either.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten rid of me so easily in any case,” she told him.

They mounted up and rode off, Telyn bending down over the horse’s neck, gripping his mane and whispering in his ear. The horse tossed his head and pranced, but did not balk and try to throw them. Soon, they were cantering down the same road they had just followed out from the Earthlight that very morning.

Ahead of them, Brand wondered if he would see lava pour forth into the cavern, but things were not that bad. Not yet, at least. The magma itself seemed not to have been disturbed, only the vents and the mechanisms that moved them were damaged.

It took them long minutes to reach the ash fields. Open fire met their eyes now. The fat brass boilers had exploded. Twisted feeding pipes stuck up at odd angles. Out of the great broken pipes flowed gouts of steam, smoke and lavender flame.

They passed chunks of metal. Broken loose sprockets, twice the height of a man, spun slowly on creaking axles. Blasted chunks of stone, blackened springs and burning oil slicks were everywhere. They passed Kindred among the wreckage as well. Some worked to contain the fires, some staggered aimlessly, some lay broken.

“Should we stop and help them?” asked Telyn.

“We’ll help them more by killing the dragon.”

So they rode on until they reached a great flaring crack in the floor of the cavern and could not continue. The bridge had collapsed and the flames at the bottom gushed fire, where they had only smoldered when they had last passed over.

Brand saw a figure waving to them on the far side. It was one of the Kindred mechnicians, and he was waving his wrench at them. Flames bubbled upon an expanding slick of burning liquids behind him.

“We can’t get to him,” said Brand. He paced the length of the crack, not seeing any easy spot to cross. They had jumped these spots on foot days ago, but now they were wider and full of flame.

“Get off,” Telyn told him.

“No,” he told her, instantly divining her plan.

“I’ve watched you risk yourself a dozen times. It’s my turn.”

He hesitated, but finally did as she asked. As soon as his feet sunk into the ash, she swung the horse around smartly and found a narrow spot. Brand gritted his teeth and squinched his eyes tightly, wanting to turn away and wanting to watch at the same time.

As she leapt the horse over the flaming crack, his heart leapt in his chest with her. He stood, feeling useless in the blowing ash and smoke. He marveled that she could get that roan to cooperate on such a venture. He wasn’t sure he could get it to Riverton market without being thrown.

She made the leap. He let out his breath in a gasping sigh. She gathered up the Kindred, who still held his wrench in a white knuckled grip. The horse was heavier now, and this time they turned more slowly.

The ground shook beneath Brand’s tread as he ran to the edge. Perhaps, there would be something he could do. There was too much noise and not enough time to speak and consider their options. The flaming liquid crept up behind them steadily and evilly. The roan knew that death was near and his eyes rolled in his head with flashing whites. Flecks of foam filled his working mouth. He might throw them and bolt at any moment, Brand knew.

Brand wished she had let the mechnician burn. He wished, worse, that she tossed him from the saddle and escaped alone. If she did so, he promised to never mention it to her. To never speak of it, until death and long after.

They galloped and at the last moment he could tell they weren’t going to make it and so could Telyn. She slipped off the horse and slapped it on the rump. The roan flew, but landed badly, back legs kicking in the pit. Panicking, the horse screamed and almost rolled off the cliff. Brand grabbed the reins and drew his axe in his other hand. He willed strength from it, and his body became as strong as steel, but the horse was slipping. The mechnicians eyes were as wide as the horse’s.

Finally, the horse was up but the Kindred, unused to riding a horse under the best of circumstances, had slipped from the saddle. He fell, and Brand’s hand moved at a speed impossible without the aid of the axe. He grabbed and clutched at the wrench, which the Kindred still clung to as if it were a tree branch in a flood.

He lifted the shocked mechnician out of the flaming pit and stood him up on ledge beside him.

“Thanks,” said the mechnician, staring at him and his flashing axe.

Brand ignored him, having eyes only for his lady. Telyn now stood on the far side. The river of burning oils was less than a hundred paces behind her. Soon the smoke and heat would overwhelm her and her clothes would catch fire.

“There is a way,” said the Kindred, waving for him to follow.

Brand gestured to Telyn, and she followed them on the far side of the crevasse. The Kindred reached the spot where the bridge had fallen. He employed his wrench, explaining as he worked.

“The bridges fall now and then. We have an emergency system. A rail will extend.”

He worked steadily, turning a great screw. A rail did indeed extend, it was perhaps two inches wide but it looked to be solid iron.

“We build the new bridges over this, then retract it again. I would have escaped that way, but the one on the far side was damaged.”

“Give it to me,” said Brand. It was a command, not a request.

The mechnician looked as if he might object, but Brand still held the axe aloft and there was a madness in his eyes. The Kindred handed over the wrench and Brand worked with one-handed ferocity. The metal squeaked and groaned, but the rail extended much more quickly than before.

Soon, Telyn was able to hop to it, not waiting for it to fully extend. She bounced there on the flexing rod of metal.

“She’s got good balance,” commented the mechnician.

Brand allowed himself his first smile of the day as she sprinted across the beam effortlessly. “Yes, that she does.”

When they were reunited and had pressed their bodies together in a lengthy embrace of welcome, the mechnician broke out a skin of water. He passed it around and they all drank greedily, despite the fact the water tasted oily and was more than blood-warm.

“Tell us of the dragon, and the egg,” Brand asked him.

“Are you the one who left it with us?”

Brand nodded, trying not to look ashamed.

The mechnician took a deep breath. “We should have known. But it has been so long. We haven’t had a serious dragon attack in six centuries at least. Only the oldsters among us remember the last time. We thought we could handle it. Don’t blame yourself, you’ve had no experience at all with wurms. We, who live on top of them, should know better.”

“I wish we’d rolled it into the Earthlight.”

“I don’t know if that would have helped,” said the Kindred. “I think the one you slew, the female, called her mate when she died. He was going to come in any case. But the egg being here, that did seem to attract him to this spot. He must have known, somehow. Dragons are mysterious beasts, not like Kindred, man nor even the Fae.”

“Tell me what happened to the egg. Was it destroyed when the vent fell?”

“I didn’t see everything. But no, the dragon took the egg with him, I believe. He was a big green. Biggest even that the oldsters could recall hearing of.”

“Well,” said Telyn, joining the conversation, “he’s gone with his egg now, and he did a great deal of damage. Hopefully, he’s satisfied and will not return.”

The mechnician shrugged. “As to the motivation of wurms, I can’t say. But one thing I know, no dragonfire should have been able to burn down the hinge of a vent like that. They are built to withstand the heat of magma.”

At a loss to explain it, they separated to see what they could do to help the Kindred survivors who wandered here and there on the landscape. Telyn caught the roan and whispered to it, stroking his shivering neck and calming him enough for them to mount.

Brand and Telyn had barely gotten onto the horse’s back again when they heard the mechnician calling them again. They looked, and saw him pointing up into the sky toward the vents.

Something huge and poisonously green flew through the open top vent into the cavern overhead. Incredibly, it had flown out of the lurid red glow of the Earthlight itself. Its wings smoked with fantastic heat, but did not burn. The beast flapped those tremendous wings that were each larger than the sail of any ship Brand had ever laid eyes upon. They heard the wings snap against the air like thunderclaps.

“He’s coming down!” shouted Brand, and they kicked the horse into a gallop. The monster had already passed over them, so great was its speed. It descended like a stooping hawk and pulled up at the last moment so it would not strike the ground. As it did so, it released a great gout of flame that was so bright they had to shield their eyes. A Kindred farmhouse, built of sturdy stone, was struck. They were much too far to hear screams, but they felt sure someone had died there.

Kindred homes, Brand had learned, were built of stone for more than the convenient availability of the material. Nor was it their natural love of stone, polished, rough or fresh hewn that drove them to use it so exclusively. As in all things, their use of stone had a practical purpose. It could not be burned.

And so it was that as they galloped nearer the farmhouse, their surprise grew. For the stone slabs of the house were indeed
burning
. The roof was gone and the walls melted as they burned, as if they were made of nothing more than hardened gray wax. Nothing could have survived that white-hot fire. It was unnatural, Brand was sure of it. Sigrid’s flame had been hot, but she could not have melted granite, of that he was sure.

The dragon flapped for altitude and looked this way and that for another target. Brand saw its great head swivel in their direction, and thought about sending it a challenging wink with the axe. But he had no plan for defeating it, not yet, and did not want to be caught out in the open with Telyn in any case. There would be no second chances with this dragon, no tunnels to duck down into out here in the open cavern.

So he let the dragon flap on toward the citadel and they galloped after. The roan was foaming now, the stresses of the day combining with the great heat to lather it up. He hoped the horse didn’t collapse, but he couldn’t let it rest now. They had to get to where the dragon would alight.

Brand suspected that spot would be the citadel itself. He prayed he could join the battle before it was all over.