Sunset of Lantonne (68 page)

Just before he would have collided with the mountain, Nenophar flicked his tail and tucked his wings to slam his body against the mountainside, crashing into the rock surface hard enough to knock Ilarra to her knees. From there, he climbed up until his head came up over the ledge where she was and offered her the base of his neck. There, the tall spines that ran down his back provided something to grab onto, and a spot between his wings was just flat enough Ilarra believed she might be able to stay on him—as long as he did nothing crazy mid-flight.

Are you sure you wish to this?
he asked even as he offered the perch.
The races of man have not seen a dragon in these parts of the world for more than a thousand years. It may be better for them to believe we are gone.

Ilarra shook her head and then realized Nenophar could not see her with his head pressed against the ledge to give her an easier time climbing up. Instead, she shouted, “I want Dorralt to know you’re back. It might make him rethink things. It’ll buy us time. Even if he doesn’t slow his march, I want the city to start thinking about dragons. If they will work with you, I need them to know you aren’t a figment of my imagination.”

As you wish. I have voiced my concerns, Ilarra. The results of this are on you.

“Besides,” she added quickly, realizing she was stalling in executing her own plan after seeing how very far down the ground was, “you already told me how badly it saps your strength to move us between here and the plains with magic. You need everything you’ve got. You need to go like this.”

Nenophar gave her a scolding look—he clearly knew she was stalling and had no desire to wait around for her, immortal or not.

Gingerly, Ilarra crept to the edge of the stones where a foot-wide gap separated her from Nenophar’s slick, scaled skin. That small opening allowed her to see past his legs to the sheer drop several hundred feet to a copse of pines surrounded by misty air and flying birds. It was the birds that made Ilarra’s heart skip a beat, seeing a creature she had always associated with being above her now so far below.

“Maybe there is another way,” she said, backing away from the edge. “You already said this was a bad idea.”

Do not make me eat you
, warned Nenophar.
You made the plan, now abide by it.

Silently cursing at herself, Ilarra forced herself to stand and walked as close as she dared to the drop-off. She reached out and leaned to get her hands onto Nenophar’s back. With that support, she felt a little more confident and shuffled her feet nearer the edge. After jockeying herself to the lip of the stones, she finally managed to reach the bone spines on Nenophar’s back, grabbing one of the smaller ones to pull herself up off of the ledge.

With effort, Ilarra scrambled onto Nenophar, snagging and tearing her skirt twice in the process. The sharp scales raked her skin, but she managed to keep from cutting herself deeply enough that she bled. It was slow going as she got her boots under herself and managed to walk back to the spot between Nenophar’s wings, clinging to the spines the whole way and very nearly crawling on her belly to get there.

Ilarra sat down slowly, making absolutely sure not to look anywhere but the gleaming green scales and boney portions of Nenophar’s back. She took some time situating herself until she was confident that any way he moved she would neither be tossed nor crushed. A pair of spines about as high as Ilarra’s waist gave her solid grips she could hug during flight. The plan was idiotic, but she had done all she could to protect herself from her own stupidity.

“Fly gently,” she asked, latching onto the spines. “I’m ready.”

The only warning Nenophar gave was the spreading of his wings before he pushed off of the mountainside, hurling himself backwards into the open sky. They fell for several seconds, Ilarra screaming into her arm as she clung to the bone spines as tightly as she could. Then Nenophar caught the wind with his wings and leveled off, driving Ilarra down hard against his back.

Soon the rough beginning of the flight was left far behind and Nenophar coasted on the winds for a while, giving Ilarra time to relax as much as she guessed she ever would. She peeked around her arm and was amazed at the amount of wind pushing back against her face. Squinting against it, she saw the ground far below them, miles of countryside blurring from the speed.

From what Nenophar had told her when she had first proposed the idea of flying to Lantonne, the entire ride would take about three hours, as opposed to the many weeks it would take to walk the same distance, mostly owing to navigating through the mountains. She had not believed him, but she could see in the time it had taken for Ilarra to brave looking around, they had nearly left the mountains behind in favor of the foothills.

The forces of Turessi are already larger than I had anticipated
, Nenophar said, his voice clear in her mind despite the roar of the winds.
Below and left, you may be able to see them. I will circle to allow you a better view.

Shifting her head, Ilarra saw what he had been looking at. Far below, a legion of small black spots moved across the hills toward the southeast. She could not make out any details, but they looked like an ant colony, many thousands of individuals moving as a large unit that covered a huge swath of the land. Farther east, a second group moved in much the same direction. South of those, several smaller groups also marched.

“How many?” screamed Ilarra in return, then coughed and choked as she swallowed a bug or something.

Twenty to thirty thousand leaving Altis
, the dragon answered, banking somewhat more southward.
I can see more to the east. We may be looking at a hundred thousand, all told. It looks like they have conquered lands north and east of here and are bringing in reinforcements. Lantonne may be the last walled city in the region…certainly the last large city with any living in it. Defending it may be a waste of time.

Ilarra spent the rest of the flight watching those moving spots in fear, knowing Nenophar expected her to somehow do something against them. Prophecy and gifted magic or not, she felt incredibly insignificant in the face of so many undead. The army of Lantonne might not matter nearly as much as she had hoped. Even Nenophar suddenly seemed small by comparison. Surely other lands had stood up to the Turessians already; making any stand here seem already hopeless.

When Nenophar did speak again, it startled Ilarra, and she realized she had been lost in thought the whole time she had been watching the army, having missed most of the land between his cave and Lantonne. All she could remember of the time were the thousands of corpses walking steadily toward the city, a war in waiting for their arrival.

We are nearing the city, but something is wrong. Hold on tightly.

Ilarra looked ahead, trying to see around Nenophar’s neck and head. She finally got a glimpse of the countryside and recognized the miles of farmland that circled Lantonne on its south, west, and east. They seemed exactly as she remembered them, at least from several hundred feet higher than the last time she had seen them. Even the glimpses of the city looked perfectly normal, though she knew that would change as soon as the military knew of the approaching armies.

Then Ilarra saw the northern plains, specifically the quarry where she had survived the explosion so many months earlier. Where there had been a rippling crack in the air the last time she had been in Lantonne, now a vast whirling cloud of utter darkness roiled and reached out in all directions with tendrils of light that stood out against the cloud appearing to birth them.

“What is it?” she screamed back.

Magical, but I know nothing more for certain
, Nenophar told her, abruptly banking hard to his left, nearly unseating Ilarra.
Be ready. Things are coming out of that hole straight for us. If it is what I suspect, that is why we are here.

Ilarra struggled to hold on, but caught a glimpse of something else in the sky between flaps of Nenophar’s wings. Whatever it was seemed to soak up the light the same way the hole in the quarry did, but Ilarra got the distinct impression it had wings.

I will get you to the city, but you will need to jump off and run. There are too many of them, and I cannot land long or they will catch up with us. Once you are off, I will distract them.

Ilarra squeaked and fought to stay on Nenophar as he partially tucked his wings and threw himself sideways, spinning mid-flight so the ground raced past over Ilarra’s head before the sky returned. When she was able to look around again, she saw a dozen or more of the dark creatures were circling Nenophar, trying to close in on him, with more on their way.

Count to eight and then jump
. Nenophar pitched forward, plummeting toward the ground.

Ilarra could barely manage to think, let alone count as instructed. Her heart raced and the ground came rapidly closer. Soon, she could make out individual bushes and several farmers running for cover, but Nenophar showed no sign of slowing his descent. If she had counted right, they would slam into the ground on eight. Biting her lip, she kept telling herself that she trusted him and would not scream.

As Ilarra counted seven, Nenophar pulled up very slightly, aiming to skim the ground. He then tilted slightly, scraping the ground with his left foreshoulder. He was still falling somewhat and could not keep up the angle long or his wing would strike the ground.

Throwing herself forward, Ilarra tumbled through the air for only a moment before she slammed hard into the ground. She rolled and flipped before skidding to a halt on her back, staring up at the sky, tasting blood in her mouth and feeling thousands of scrapes all across her body. If she had to guess, perhaps as many as a dozen bones were broken as well and she had to clench her jaw to keep from screaming in agony.

Nenophar had pulled up and was rapidly accelerating away from Ilarra, the dark winged creatures in pursuit. From where Ilarra lay, she could see they were shaped similar to Nenophar but far smaller and much more agile. As they passed Ilarra, she could feel the warmth leave the air, as though something about the winged monsters sucked it away. It was more than warmth, she quickly corrected, it was the magic that held her body together that was all but ripped from her flesh when the creatures came near. Once they were gone, the sunlight began warming Ilarra again.

She lay there a long time, willing herself to move but unable to make her aching limbs do the work. Slowly, the pain of hitting the ground began to fade and she was able to breathe normally again. With great effort, she rolled onto her side and got up. Stubbornness combined with the curse the Turessians had put on her healed her body gradually, the bones knitting again and even her clothing mending itself. Eventually, she was able to stand again about the same time a group of farmers who had seen the dragon returned, though they seemed unaware she had been on that dragon.

Ilarra took a bit of time trying to get her bearings. She turned until she spotted Lantonne, no more than half a mile away, then looked for the mountains to determine where she was in relation to any of the city’s gates. She found she stood on the eastern side of the city, which meant Nenophar had almost completely circled Lantonne as he fell from the sky before leaving her. It also meant there was no nearby gate and it was going to be a very long walk.

The sun was getting low and Ilarra wondered if she could get to one of the gates before it had set. With the threat of war, she had no idea if the gates would stay open after sunset, making it that much more difficult for her to get into the city. She had to avoid any unnecessary questions, lest Therec find out she was coming. That meant either getting there before dark or waiting until dawn.

She set off as quickly as she could manage, wincing with each step as her knee flared with white-hot pain. Within fifty feet, the pain diminished and she could walk normally again as her body finished healing itself.

Whatever the downsides of being undead might be, she thought to herself morosely, the benefits often seemed to outweigh them. She would take her odd state of unlife any day over the condition she would have been in after falling off a dragon without the ability to heal as she had.

Brushing away the dirt that coated her dress as she walked, Ilarra made her way toward the south entrance of the city. She had initially thought to go to the north, as that was the entrance she had used every time she had visited in the past, but after seeing the creatures from the quarry near that end of the city, she opted to avoid it entirely. Likely, that gate would be heavily manned.