Dragons Rising (20 page)

The
dragon skeletons cried out in hatred. Their jaws opened, and they
blasted out white jets--a blend of dragonfire and the Spirit's holy
light. The pale flames roared across the sky, beautiful to behold.
The weredrakes hated her, Beatrix knew, but they could not resist.
The Spirit would not release them. They flew at her sides, a guard of
honor.

"You
will fly with them, Korvin, my love," Beatrix whispered into the
wind. "And you will fly with us too, Cade, my precious son. All
weredragons will die, burn to bones, then rise again with the light
of the Spirit."

They
flew over the fields where the forest of Requiem had once spread.
Those birches were gone now, their legends long forgotten. They flew
over the city walls and the many clay domes of Nova Vita, the city
where the weredragons had once festered. Their marble halls were long
gone. They flew toward the Cured Temple, a palace of crystal and
glass, its round base sprouting up many curving shards, hundreds of
feet tall, like a comet fallen to the world. King's Column rose
within that temple, a last memory of Requiem, a memory soon to
shatter.

And
everywhere around the Temple flew the bonedrakes.

Hundreds
of the beasts circled the temple like buzzards, dug up from their
graves, filled with holiness, crying out to the sky, warriors of the
Spirit waiting to greet their god as he descended into the world. It
was a graveyard in the sky, a graveyard the weredragons would join.

Beatrix
flew above the temple. The curving shards flared below like sabers,
glass and crystal and metal, gleaming in the sun.

"Perch
upon this crown, weredrakes!" she said. "This will be your
aerie, and here you will wait . . . wait for your friends to arrive."

Julian
and Roen screeched and obeyed, landing upon the thrusting shards of
crystal like birds upon blades. They clutched their perches with
naked claws, tossed back their heads, and blasted out their
fire--twin beacons of white, holy light, calling the weredragons
home.

 
 
DOMI

So
many times, Domi had flown this route among firedrakes, bearing Lady
Mercy on her back. So many times, she had seen Nova Vita and the
Temple rising from the distance and seen a home, a place where she
could live as a dragon, wild and strong. So many times, she had flown
here with pain in her heart, knowing that the spurs, the whips, the
cellar underground meant she was forever a prisoner, even as a
dragon, even as the great Pyre who bore tyrants on her back.

Now
again Domi flew across the fields toward that distant city that lay
beyond the horizon. But this time, she did not fly with firedrakes,
those mindless dragons whose human forms had been removed.

Now
she flew with the dragons of Requiem.

She looked to her right. Fidelity flew there, her dear sister, a blue
dragon Domi loved deeply. Throughout her childhood and youth, Domi
had always felt scared, confused, angry, a lost child in a world that
wanted to slay her. Fidelity had always been an anchor of stability,
of wisdom, as pure and tall and strong as King's Column itself.
Fidelity had always understood all those things Domi could not: the
meaning of Requiem, the legends and histories, the songs and prayers,
the hope that had always filled the librarian's heart but eluded
Domi.

I
ran from you, my sister, and I hid for many years as Pyre, but I love
you. I love you more than the stars above and the fallen forests of
our kingdom.

Domi
turned to her left, and she saw her father flying there, a charcoal
dragon twice her size. If there was anyone stronger and wiser than
Fidelity, she thought, it was their father. And Domi knew that
throughout even her wild days Korvin had loved her, sought to protect
her. She knew that he would love and protect her for as long as they
lived. She could not think of a better dragon to lead them to this
battle.

Finally
Domi looked below her. Amity and Cade both flew a hundred feet down,
her long and red, him lithe and gold. Domi did not know the red
dragon well, but she saw Amity as a heroine, as a strong warrior like
Domi wanted to become, proud and fearless, a true heroine. As for
Cade . . . Domi's heart softened a little to see him, and some of her
fear faded. Cade was so earnest, so eager to prove his worth and
fight against evil, that he perhaps gave Domi more comfort than all
the rest of them. Throughout the past year of hardship, Domi had
often found comfort in thinking of Cade. She had found an angry,
frightened boy in a village, and she had seen him grow into a man--a
man she loved.

I'm
glad to be flying with you, Cade,
she thought, gazing at him.

She
stared ahead at the sky and land. The Dair Ranin mountains rolled
below, sloping down toward the plains. The sun set over western
forests, the wilderness where the ancient Vir Requis had first risen
thousands of years ago. The stars emerged above. The winter night was
clear, and the Draco constellation shone upon her. Domi stared up at
that celestial dragon, and for the second time in her life, the
second time in only a day, Domi prayed to those stars.

Please,
stars of Requiem, if you can hear my prayers, help us in this battle.
The hope of Requiem rests on a knife's edge. If we fall, so will
King's Column. If we perish, so will all memory of Requiem. Please,
stars, light our path this battle. Give us strength.

It
seemed to her like the dragon constellation was watching her. The eye
of the dragon, Issari's Star, shone brighter than the others, silvery
and comforting, though Domi did not know if she imagined that comfort
or if the stars could truly hear.

Perhaps
they're nothing but lights,
she thought.
Perhaps they're
simply distant lanterns with no consciousness or pity.

The
stars dipped above, then grew brighter.

Domi
narrowed her eyes and gasped.

Had
the stars heard her prayer? Were they giving her a sign?

She
stared ahead, gasping. Many stars were moving now, streaming across
the sky, growing brighter and brighter, and she could hear a shrill
whistling, and--

Her
heart seemed to freeze.

She
sucked in breath and cried out, "Bonedrakes!"

Twenty
or more flew from the distance. These were not stars but the bright,
pale hearts of the beasts. Their screeches rose louder, tearing
across the sky. Beams of their light shot across the sky. Though the
creatures were still miles away, the beams blazed past Domi and the
others. One shot so close above Domi, she was almost blinded, could
feel the searing heat against her back.

"We
have to hide!" Gemini cried on her back, digging his heels into
Domi's flanks.

She
ignored the paladin. She reared in the sky, clawed the air, and
roared. "Requiem, to war!"

The
cries rose around her as four other dragons roared. "Remember
Requiem!"

Five
dragons streamed across the sky, crying out. "Requiem, Requiem!"

The
bonedrakes streamed forth toward them.

The
dragons charged.

Blasts
of light shot out, and the dragons scattered, dodging the beams. One
ray shot right beneath Domi, and she leaped upward, then dived down,
avoiding a second beam. Light shone to her left, and she banked right
hard. Gemini clung to her back, crying out wordlessly. And still
beams kept shooting out, and still Domi and the others flew.

She
was only a few hundred yards away when three beams all blasted
together toward her.

Domi
dipped, dodging one, and swerved left, avoiding another.

The
third beam slammed into her chest.

She
cried out, expecting pain, but the beam shattered against her glassy
armor, blasting out in smaller rays in all the colors of the rainbow.
Across the sky, the other dragons flew closer, no longer able to
dodge every ray of light. The beams hit their translucent armor too,
breaking apart. Lines of red, blue, green, yellow, and purple shot
across the sky as the light scattered.

The
dragons kept charging, roaring.

They
blasted forth their fire.

The
flames slammed against the bonedrakes, and the creatures screeched
horribly, knocked back in the sky.

But
without flesh to burn, the bonedrakes kept flying. They emerged from
the flames, charred but still flapping their wings, and the riders on
their backs--paladin skeletons in rusty armor--aimed their lances.

"Requiem,
arrows!" Korvin roared.

Together,
the five dragons soared higher, then released their dragon magic.

They
fell through the sky. With Domi's saddle shifted into her human form,
Gemini fell with her.

Beams
of light hit them, glancing off their armor.

They
fell below the bonedrakes and raised bows. They nocked arrows. They
fired.

Several
arrows missed their targets. Another glanced off a bonedrake's rib.
But one arrow--Domi's own--hit true. It slid between a bonedrake's
ribs and into its heart.

The
light exploded.

The
bonedrake shattered.

"Into
dragons!" Korvin shouted.

They
shifted back into dragon forms and soared. Domi grabbed Gemini before
he could fall and tossed him back into the saddle. She kept rising
higher. Above, the bonedrakes swooped, light blasting out, scattering
off the dragons' armor.

"Fire!"
Korvin cried.

Dragonfire
blasted skyward in five pillars, crashing into the beams of light,
exploding, washing over the bonedrakes, blinding the creatures.

Dragons
and bonedrakes slammed together.

Scales
and bones cracked. Jaws bit. Claws lashed. Blasting fire and whipping
their tails, the five dragons burst through the crowd of bonedrakes
and rose toward the stars.

"Arrows!"
Domi cried out, releasing her magic.

She
tumbled down as a human, growling as the wind whipped her cloak and
hair. The bonedrakes flew up toward them, and the five Vir
Requis--all falling in human forms--fired down their arrows.

Two
more bonedrake hearts shattered and blasted out their light.

An
instant later, the Vir Requis shifted back into dragon forms and
slammed onto the surviving bonedrakes. Domi roared, clinging to the
back of one creature. From the saddle, Gemini thrust down his lance,
piercing another heart. To their right, Korvin lashed his tail,
shattering a bonedrake's ribs and driving bone shards into its heart.
Farther back, the others were shifting back and forth between human
and dragon forms, firing arrows, piercing more hearts.

Light
exploded across the sky like collapsing stars as, one after the
other, the bonedrakes shattered and fell in a hailstorm of bones.

Domi
roared as she fought, laughed as she slew the creatures, bathing them
with fire, slamming against them and letting Gemini spear their
hearts from the saddle. The beams of light glanced off her, and even
as their claws wounded her, Domi laughed, for she was a warrior of
Requiem, triumphant and proud, no longer fighting for the Cured
Temple but for her true homeland.

Tonight,
she knew, Pyre truly died. Tonight, even in dragon form, she was
purely Domi of Requiem.

She
slew the last bonedrake with a great swipe of her tail, shattering
its ribs and heart. It scattered down as bone fragments, and Domi
bucked in the sky, roaring and clawing the air.

"Requiem!"
she cried.

The
other dragons gathered around her, some wounded, but their eyes all
shone for victory.

"We
fly on," Domi said. "To the south. To dawn. To the city of
Nova Vita and its Temple. To Requiem."

They
flew on through the sky, leaving only clouds of smoke behind. The
stars shone above.

 
 
AMITY

At
dawn they saw Nova Vita ahead.

Amity
snarled and summoned fire into her maw.

You're
there, Beatrix,
she thought.
And I'm coming for you.

Amity
had never seen Nova Vita before with her eyes, but she had seen it
countless times in her dreams. Every night for years, she flew toward
this city with the Horde, flew here with griffins and salvanae, flew
here leading a great army that spread across the landscape below, an
army of chariots and horses and many marching troops.

Now
she flew here with only four other dragons. Now she flew here with
the army of Requiem. She bared her teeth.
And now I would have it
no other way.

Nova
Vita was a vast city. Even in her dreams, Amity had never imagined a
city could be this large. It sprawled even wider than the great tent
settlement of Hakan Teer. Hundreds of thousands of people must have
lived here, so many souls it spun Amity's head.

Once
they were all children of Requiem,
she thought.
Once they all
had the magic--the magic the Temple tore from them.

Countless
huts rose across the city, simple clay dwellings with domed roofs.
Streets snaked between them, cobbled and quiet in the morning light.
As humble as these buildings were, the palace that rose in the city's
center was grand. The Cured Temple. Amity had never seen this
building before, but she recognized it at once from the tales. The
center of the faith's power. Here did Beatrix dwell. From this place,
the High Priestess had stretched out her long arm to strike at the
Horde. And in this place, Amity swore, the High Priestess would die.

She
glanced up at the sky.

"Clouds
are thin," she muttered to Korvin.

The
dark gray dragon glided at her side. He stared up with her. "They'll
have to do. We're not turning back now. Every day, Beatrix musters
more bonedrakes. We kill her today, clouds or no clouds."

Korvin
rose higher, gesturing for the others. They all ascended until they
flew above the thin layer of clouds. They kept darting back and
forth, avoiding openings in the cloud cover, trying to keep
themselves hidden for as long as possible, to get as close as they
could before the bonedrakes sensed them.