Dragonforge (56 page)

“Hex, what?” she asked.

“If you had this, you would heal him,” he said.

“Yes!” she said, standing up. “Yes! Why do you want him to die? He’s your brother!”

“I’m not helping him die,” said Hex. “I’m helping him reach his destiny. He wished to be the king who brought an end to kings. When he takes his last breath, the age of kings draws to an end.”

“But—”

“Listen,” said Hex. “His armies will disperse. The sun-dragons will return to their abodes and resume squabbling over local matters. The earth-dragons will be free to pursue their own destinies, no longer mere pawns in the game of kings. It’s for the greater good that my brother must die.”

“Who gave you the right to decide the greater good?” Jandra shouted. “This isn’t like you, Hex.”

“Have you failed to take seriously a single word I’ve said?” Hex asked. “I was willing to slay a goddess because I didn’t trust any individual to possess that much power. My brother didn’t have the power of a god, but he did possess the power of a king. It had already corrupted him. It’s an act of mercy that he passes from this world now, before he ever understands what a brutish dictator he was becoming.”

“Give me back the genie, Hex,” said Jandra. “It won’t do you any good. It’s locked. No one can use it but me.”

“I don’t want to use it. I don’t want anyone to use it. If I knew how to destroy it, I would.”

“You’ve fought by my side. You know my heart. You know I haven’t abused my power. Give me the genie.”

“I know you have a mind that’s been altered by the goddess. Perhaps you could resist the temptation of power. But what if she’s changed you? What if you’re becoming her?”

“Hex, I know my own mind!”

“And I know mine,” he said. He pulled the silver ring of invisibility she’d given him from his talon. He tossed it toward her. It landed next to her feet. “Take this. It will let you pass safely from this camp. You’ve confided in me your inner struggle, Jandra, torn between your role as a human and your role as the daughter of a dragon. Leave here and embrace your destiny as a human. It may not be such a bad thing.”

Jandra held the poison dagger. Hex seemed so confident, so powerful.

She glanced at Pet. He was propped against the tent pole, eyes closed. She couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. She might face the same fate if she attacked. The poison wouldn't act quickly enough to kill Hex instantly. But what choice did she have? If she could get even a single finger on the genie, she could end this nonsense.

She lunged toward Hex, gritting her teeth, driving the dagger forward with both hands.

She never reached him. He kicked out with his hind-talon, catching her torso, the force of the blow knocking the dagger from her grasp. She was thrown across the room, landing against the tent wall, the world again an incomprehensible jumble of light and dark.

She rubbed her eyes to clear her vision. When she opened them, Hex was gone. Outside, she heard the beating of his mighty wings as he rose into the night.

She stood on trembling legs. Her ribs felt as if they might be broken. She staggered toward Shandrazel. He was no longer breathing.

She stumbled toward Pet, dropping to her knees before him. His eyes flickered open.

“Why?” she demanded, as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Why did you do this?”

“I lived… as a p-pet,” he whispered. “I… w-wanted to d-die… as… as…”

His eyes fluttered shut.

Jandra brought her hands to her mouth, trying to silence the sobs that burst from deep within her.

Graxen shivered as
he was pushed onto the balcony railing. His fore-talons were chained together to prevent flight. His hind-talons were hobbled by a short length of chain that reduced his movements to uncomfortable hops. He looked down onto the jagged shores of the Nest and the moonlit waters beyond. The balcony was full of valkyries, all armed with spears. They fixed their hard eyes upon him.

He’d been kept in an unlit cell since the night of Blasphet’s invasion. He wasn’t certain how many days had passed. He stoically met the judgmental gaze of the valkyries. He’d brought great tragedy to the Nest. He could expect only the harshest of fates.

The valkyries parted as a second prisoner was brought forth. His heart fluttered as he recognized this sky-dragon, though her head was hung low and her shoulders were bent beneath the weight of the chains that bound her.

“Nadala!” he cried out.

She glanced toward him, her eyes full of shame. Her handlers lifted her to the balcony and forced her to stand beside Graxen.

For several long minutes, Graxen and Nadala stood in silence, unable to look at each other.

Finally, the quiet was broken by the clicking of a cane on stone. Graxen looked up to see the familiar form of the matriarch. The withered sky-dragon hobbled forward, glaring at her discolored son.

“Eight hundred seventy-three,” said the matriarch. “That is the number of valkyries dead due to your dishonorable lusts.”

Nadala jerked, as if the number were a physical blow.

The matriarch sighed. “You came asking for freedom from the Thread Room. You wanted a different future for sky-dragons. Many of the tapestries were destroyed by fire or smoke. So, you’ll get your wish. Those valkyries whose threadlines have been lost will be released from the breeding guidance of the Nest. Future matriarchs will monitor these unguided pairings; it will take many generations to determine if the choice I’m making is a wise one. It will be the duty of some future matriarch as to how to respond should our race find itself failing. It is, however, my duty to decide your fates.”

Graxen lowered his head. He knew her decision before she spoke it. They would not be the first dragons to plunge to their deaths on the sharp steel spikes below.

“You’re both to be banished,” the matriarch said.

A murmur ran through the valkyries.

Graxen looked up, uncertain he believed the words.

“Traditionally, I would send you forth as tatterwings,” the matriarch continued. “But fate has already distorted your bodies with malformed scales. It’s for the best that your wings remain intact. You must fly west, beyond the cursed mountains, that you may not contaminate our species further. You’ll have two days grace. After this, any dragon you encounter will be duty bound to kill you.”

“But,” Nadala said, her voice hoarse, as if she’d spent many days crying. “But you said in the Thread Room we would be put to death. We’ve caused so much harm. How can you spare us?”

The matriarch shook her head.

“Blasphet and his cult took so many of your sisters, Nadala,” said the matriarch. “This island has seen enough death.”

Graxen was confused. Was this a trick? The matriarch seemed incapable of mercy. Yet, there was no trick apparent as two valkyries approached and released them from the chains that bound them. The iron links rattled as the valkyries carried them away.

“Fly now,” said the matriarch, turning. “Darken these shores with your shadows no longer.”

As she said this, the valkyries who’d unchained them gave them harsh shoves. Graxen toppled toward the spikes below. His limbs were numb from confinement. He felt weak; he’d been given no food during his entire imprisonment. Yet, he instinctively spread his wings. The wind caught his feather-scales, and he pulled from his descent.

Nadala continued to fall. His heart raced as she drew ever closer to the spikes. Then, at last, she opened her wings and veered away from death by impalement, following him out across the lake.

Beyond the water’s edge, Graxen landed in the bare branches of a tall tree. The perch swayed as Nadala joined him. She looked forlorn.

“She should have killed us,” she whispered.

Graxen took her fore-talon into his own.

“Would our deaths have undone the tragedy?” he asked softly. “I’m surprised by her decision, but my mother is right. There’s been enough death. We’ve been given the chance to live.”

“We’ve been banished,” said Nadala. “I’ll never again see my sisters. I’ll never again see my home. Nothing lies before us but the unknown.”

“Not only the unknown,” said Graxen. “We have each other.”

Nadala met his eyes, looking lost.

“Graxen, why did we do such an insane thing? Why did we throw all caution to the wind? Is that love? Is it love that rips the world asunder? If so, I no longer know if I want any part of it. We’re banished to journey beyond the mountains. It’s for the best if we do not make this journey together.”

Graxen shook his head. “I don’t know. You may be right. I haven’t made the clearest decisions since I met you.”

“If love strips us of reason, maybe the old ways were correct,” said Nadala. “Perhaps love can only lead to ruin. The first matriarchs were wise to remove it from the breeding process.”

“Perhaps,” said Graxen. “When I first visited the Nest, I was driven from its shores hungry and thirsty, without hint of hospitality. You followed me, gave me food. That’s still a cherished memory; it gives me hope for the essential goodness of the world. Isn’t that love as well?”

“That wasn’t love, Graxen,” she said. “That was only… only kindness.”

“Then perhaps kindness will be enough to sustain us as we journey over the mountains,” he said. “If you’ll accept my kindness, I pledge to do all I can to help you survive in that strange land to which we must journey.”

Nadala let her fore-talon drop from his grasp.  She looked down to the forest floor.  A chilly winter breeze stirred the fringes on her neck.  She shivered, looking lost in thought.  She glanced back in the direction of the Nest.  Suddenly, her body stiffened. 

Graxen followed her gaze and found a squad of valkyries coming toward them.  Some were wearing armor and carrying spears.  Graxen and Nadala were naked—perhaps they could outfly them.  Unfortunately, they were also half-starved, with bodies and wills weakened by days chained in solitary cells.  These valkyries were no doubt at the peak of health. 

Except, as they drew nearer, it became obvious that the lead valkyrie was injured.  Arifiel led the squad, unarmored, her shoulders covered in bandages.  She flew slowly, in obvious pain, yet the other valkyries controlled their speed to stay behind her. 

The valkyries reached them and Arifiel landed in the same tree that Graxen and Nadala rested in.  The other valkyries found perches in neighboring trees.  Graxen looked around, expecting to find icy, hostile stares.  Yet, instead of scorn, these valkyries had a different emotion in their eyes.  Graxen was hard-pressed to interpret it.  He noted that Arifiel wasn’t the only one among them who wore bandages.  Several had bare, raw spots on their wings where feather-scales had been burned away. 

“Nadala.  Graxen,” said Arifiel.  “The matriarch doesn’t know of my mission here.  You’ve been sent into the world unarmed, without food, without even a blanket to shelter you from the cold at night.  We’ve come to rectify this.”

Arifiel nodded toward a nearby valkyrie who tossed her spear toward them.  Nadala caught it.  Seconds later, she caught a helmet thrown her way, and one of the valkyries began to unbuckle her armor. 

“Graxen,” said Arifiel.  “You left a bag in my care.  I’ve come to return it.”

Again she nodded toward one of the valkyries, this one carrying his satchel. It bulged, stuffed to the point where its leather seams looked as if they might rip open.  The valkyrie tossed the bag to Graxen.  In his weakened state, he was nearly knocked from his perch when he caught it. 

“There’s food,” said Arifiel.  “Dried fish, dried fruit.  A wool blanket and flint and steel to start a fire.”

Nadala slipped on the helmet and caught the armor that was tossed to her by the valkyrie who’d stripped. 

“Why are you doing this?” Nadala asked.

Arifiel looked around the band of warriors.  “Every one of us fought against the sun-dragons; every one of us faced their flames.  We will carry the scars for the rest of our lives.”

“And we are the cause of those scars,” said Nadala, her voice cracking.  Tears rolled down her cheeks.  “We betrayed you!  I betrayed you!  I’m the greatest shame of the valkyries!”

“Sister!” Arifiel snapped, sounding angry.  “You didn’t give us our scars.  Blasphet and his minions caused this suffering.  Not one among us views you as our shame.  Indeed, we view you as our greatest hope.”

Nadala sniffled.  “What?”

“We all witnessed Graxen in combat.  He was fearless and cunning; the shame of the valkyries would have been if his virtues were allowed to pass from our species.  We have plain evidence that the system we were prepared to give our lives to defend was a flawed one.”

“But—”

“We must leave you now,” said Arifiel.  “Buckle up your armor.  Keep your spear sharp.  I don’t know what dangers await you in the lands beyond the mountains.  But before I part, give me your vow:  whatever foes you may face, never surrender.  If you find yourself facing an army of sun-dragons, face them as a warrior born.  Teach them what it means to challenge a valkyrie!”

Nadala swallowed hard.  “I so vow,” she said softly. 

Arifiel gave some unseen signal to her fellows, and with a single movement they all leapt into the air.  They spiraled upward, a flurry of dragons, then turned as one and soared toward the Nest.

Graxen stood quietly, watching the sky as Nadala buckled on her armor.  Graxen slung the satchel over his shoulder, the limb swaying as the weight shifted.  He dug his fore-talon in beneath the blanket and found the oily parchment wrapping the dried fish.  There was something under the parchment that had an odd texture.  He pulled the fish from his bag, then dug his claws back in as he realized what it was that he’d felt. 

“I… When I went to the coast, I found this,” he said, pulling the beaded belt from his satchel.  He held it toward her.  She took it and unrolled it, looking confused.

“It’s a belt,” he said.  “It’s probably not the best time to give it to you, I fear.”

“It’s lovely,” she said.

“It reminded me of you,” he said. 

She fastened the belt around her waist. It fit as if it had been made for her.  She sniffled again and said, “Now that we have supplies, it does make sense for us to journey together.  It sounds as if there’s only a single blanket to share.”