The Dragon's War (14 page)

“It is the gifts of your mother’s people that will decide your fate.”

The troop spent another day and night in the wood elf encampment, but soon it was time to leave. The parting was poignant, especially the farewells to Isleif. Raine embraced the wizard she had known for over a century, and he planted a kiss as a blessing on her forehead. Idonea had to brush away a tear as she said farewell to her master of two decades, grateful that she had been able to spend this last time with him. And when Skye hugged her great-grandfather, many openly sobbed. But Skye, with the resolve the Tavinter were known for, squared her shoulders, and only the shininess of her eyes betrayed the tears that were held there.

“You’ve made me so proud, little sparrow. Continue your training with Idonea. I left her much instruction for you.”

Skye nodded, swallowing hard. “And that one,” he said, indicating Raine, “you follow that one wherever she goes, even through the Gates of Hel itself.”

“I will,” Skye promised.

Just then, a hot wind blew through the trees and leaves scattered as a colossal red dragon swooped low over the tree-tops. The massive creature let out a deafening roar, scattering animals in the underbrush, a farewell from the Queen of all Dragons to the greatest wizard that Arianthem had ever known. Isleif waved his staff at the tribute, and the dragon wheeled about and disappeared over the horizon.

Hearts were heavy as the band set out, and both Raine and Skye remained on foot, silently trodding next to one another. There were murmured snippets of conversation but, by and large, the group was quiet. Finally, Raine could bear the oppressive mood no more.

“Do you see that rock up there, the one beyond the tree line?” Raine asked.

Skye squinted off in the distance. “Yes, I see it.”

“I’ll race you to it.

Chapter 10

T
he land began to change. To the north, Mount Alfheim rose up out of the mists in all of its glory. To the east, the Deep Woods fell away. To the south, the bulk of the empire stretched out. But to the west was a barren land, one that was as forbidding as its name. Raine sat upon the black stallion that had been Talan’s steed and gazed out at the vast desert

“So this is the Empty Land,” Senta said.

“Yes. It’s a land of nothingness, and almost nothing survives in it. Insects, scarabs, a few snakes, but little else.”

“And you crossed over this land?” Nerthus said.

“Yes,” Raine replied, “and Idonea, Dagna, and Elyara were with me. As was Feyden, the brother of Maeva, and Lorifal of the dwarves. And Bristol, of course. There was another with us, Gunther, but he passed away not long ago. He never recovered from the touch of the Membrane.”

“That was the creature that touched you,” Senta said, “that monster that was in the castle courtyard when you rescued us from the Reapers.”

“Yes,” Raine said, the muscle in her jaw working. The Membrane was an abomination created by Hel, a fusion of mouths, limbs, breasts, and sexual organs of those cursed by the Goddess of Death. The monstrosity perpetually pleasured itself and was in a constant, painful orgasm. It had a particular affinity for Raine. “On our quest, it touched Idonea as well.”

Idonea came up beside Raine, the sight of the bleak landscape evoking memories in her, also. “You saved me. You drew it away by revealing your eyes. That was the first time that Hel saw you.”

There was a trace of self-recrimination in Idonea’s voice, a kind of tacit recognition that Hel had discovered Raine because of her.

“I’m guessing Hel would have found me sooner or later,” Raine said, dismissing Idonea’s guilt, “given her past relationship with your mother.”

“And what is beyond the Empty Land?” Gimle asked, deeply interested.

“The Veil,” Raine replied. “The Empty Land drops off at The Edge of the World, cliffs so high you cannot see the bottom. And when you work your way down, you go into the Veil.”

“What is the Veil like?” Skye asked, and Elyara shivered.

“It’s a horrible place,” Raine said. “The miasma that separates the mortal realm from the Underworld. It’s full of demons and wraiths, strange plants that can attack you, and many, many Reapers.”

“It felt like it took us years to get through it,” Dagna said.

“Indeed,” Raine said, also lost in the recollection. “And once through, it only gets worse. Then you come upon the first set of Gates, which lead into the red and black courtyard, which seems to stretch on forever. And then you come to the Gates of Hel themselves.”

“They were enormous,” Idonea recalled. “With Hel’s visage on them.”

“And they were being held open by the Scales of Light and Dark,” Elyara added.

“Yes, which my love destroyed,” Raine said.

The Ha’kan were all holding their breaths as the women recounted the tale they had heard a thousand times, yet never quite like this.

“And then you killed the dragon, Ragnar,” Skye prompted, for she had read the poem at the Sjöfn Academy and committed it to memory.

“Yes,” Raine said a wry grin on her face. “He was going to take Idonea’s soul and thought me easy prey, right up until he realized I was a Scinterian. I reminded him that the Scinterians were dragon slayers long before they became the dragons’ allies.”

“That was probably the best moment of all,” Dagna said.

“The look on his face….” Elyara agreed.

The four were silent for a moment.

“And then we closed the gate,” Raine said, as if it were no matter, “and we did not see the Hyr’rok’kin again for almost two decades.”

“Raine,” Skye said uncertainly, “what is that?”

Skye’s tone of voice caught Raine’s attention and she looked out across the Empty Land. “It looks like dust,” she said, frowning. There shouldn’t be anything in the Empty Land to kick up dust. She signaled her raptor in the sky, and the great hawk set out across the desert. A shadow fell over them as something blocked out the sun. The red dragon, which was never far from them, had also seen the cloud of dust. Talan was not far behind the hawk, flying to inspect the disturbance.

All sat tensely in their saddles, awaiting report. The dust cloud, although still very far away, was getting larger.

“Talan won’t engage by herself, will she?” Senta asked.

“No,” Raine said, “she would have picked me up if she meant to fight. She’s just scouting right now.”

Raine’s voice was calm, but there was an underlying intensity that Senta recognized. She was preparing for battle.

“Knight Commander? Do you have any troops stationed near here?”

Nerthus rode up abreast of Raine. “We have garrisons all along the Empty Land. But they are sparsely staffed, more of sentry stations with light defensive capabilities.”

“Do you think those are Hyr’rok’kin?” Senta asked.

“I do,” Raine replied. “The desert plays tricks with the eyes, but they are still some ways off. We have a few hours. Send some of your troops to the nearest strongholds,” she said, directing Nerthus, “have them bring back anyone they can.” With a wave, Nerthus dispatched the soldiers who rode off at breakneck speed. “How many of the Royal Guard are here?” Raine asked.

“Just over fifty,” Senta said.

“You would stand with us? Fight on imperial soil?” Nerthus asked.

“Of course we would,” the Queen said, riding up. “My First General and my Battle Mage,” she said with a nod to Gimle, “are at your disposal.” She looked down at her gown. “I am going to go change.”

Raine mentally calculated the distance and the size of the approaching force and looked around her. Sixty or so of the Ha’kan, the same number of imperials.

“Skye, how many of your people are here?”

Skye signaled into the air for general assembly, and Tavinter began appearing everywhere. Despite the lack of cover, they still had managed to travel almost undetected.

“We are about thirty in number,” Aeric said, having been close enough to hear Raine.

“Good,” Raine said.

“Raine,” Senta said uncertainly, “I can’t judge this distance as well as you, but that force must be in the thousands.”

“Yes,” Raine said, “and maybe in the tens of thousands. This is the largest force I’ve seen since we shut the gates.”

“Do you think we can stand against such numbers?”

“I’ve seen these odds before,” Raine said, “and we were but eight. Three of those that stood with me then are here with me now.”

Idonea, Dagna, and Elyara stared resolutely out at the approaching horde. They had been here before, led into an impossible battle, hopelessly outnumbered. Yet they had been led into battle by a Scinterian who lived and breathed to fight, the same one who stood before them now.

“Gimle,” Raine ordered, “your strength is your wards. Begin preparing defensive capabilities against arrows, spears, any projectiles. Idonea,” she said to the raven-haired mage, “I’m going to need you and Elyara to use your imagination.”

“This is going to be fun,” Idonea said, and Skye marveled at her cool demeanor. Skye did not fear battle: she had spent three years at war and the Tavinter had been greatly outnumbered. But she had faced the Ha’kan, not Hyr’rok’kin, and she did not think the Hyr’rok’kin would exhibit the same restraint as her former enemy. No, this would be a fight to the death.

“Idonea,” Raine began, “didn’t your mother say she had a sentry over the Empty Land?”

“She did.”

“Well, I wonder what happened to it,” Raine said with the beginnings of concern. Talan had been gone for some time, and although the distance was vast, the dragon could have covered it by now. She shielded her eyes, frustrated that she could not see. A speck was approaching, and Raine viewed its approach with hope. But it was too small to be a dragon.

The huge raptor swept down and landed in front of Raine. The bird was so large it stood nearly taller than Raine. Its wing was bloodied and feathers were torn near the wound.

“You’re hurt!” Raine exclaimed.

Elyara came over and pressed her hand to the wound while the bird communicated with a series of screeches and flaps with its good wing. Raine listened intently, her expression darkening.

“There is some type of winged Hyr’rok’kin,” she said, “something I’ve not seen or heard of before.” She turned to Idonea. “Talan is in trouble.”

With two steps, Raine reached the huge black stallion and leaped upon its back. The horse reared and tossed its head as Raine spun it around. “Stay here!” she cried.

Many started to mount their horses to follow her, but Idonea held up her hand, restraining them with a spell.

“She will bring Talan back,” Idonea said firmly. “Stand fast.”

Skye chafed at the restraint. “She’ll never get there in time! I wish we had another dragon.”

“We do,” Idonea said calmly.

And as Raine rode out, leaning low on the horse’s back, the legs of the horse churning and the hooves flashing, they continued to gain speed. The horse was traveling at an impossible pace, the black flanks heaving, and somehow still gaining velocity. Then, with a brilliant flash of red light, the beast dissolved and Raine was no longer on a horse, but was riding a dragon. The black dragon skimmed low to the ground, then with two great thrusts of his wings he went airborne, high into the sky where he caught a thermal updraft and shot even more skyward.

“Drakar was with us the whole time?” Skye asked.

“Oh yes,” Idonea said, “probably in heaven being ridden by both my mother and Raine.”

“I had all these witty comments to make,” Drakar said, looking back over his long neck at Raine, “but I’ve quite forgotten them all.”

“I’m sure they’ll come back to you when we’ve rescued your mother.”

“It’s hard to picture my mother needing help,” Drakar said.

And yet she did. Even from a distance, they could see that the great creature was bedeviled by many smaller, flying creatures. They weren’t quite bat or bird, but some disgusting combination of the two, with the same leathery and pus-like qualities of all the Hyr’rok’kin.

“Why doesn’t she flee?” Drakar asked.

“She can’t,” Raine said.

And then Drakar saw it, the rope about one of Talan’s legs, the golden rope held in the claws of some of the bat-like creatures. Talan strained against it, fighting the whole time against the monsters that dove in to tear and slice at the flesh of the beautiful drake.

“If what my mother said is true, there’s nothing I can do against that rope.”

That was so, Raine thought. Talan had been restrained by a mere filament before, and it had drained her strength to near death. Hel had designed the cable to restrain dragons.

“I can’t disenchant it, either,” Raine said. “But I can kill what’s on the other end of it.”

Drakar swooped down and in and under in an acrobatic maneuver. With a sharp twist of her wrist, Raine snapped out her bow and began firing arrows with the powerful weapon. They caught the flying Hyr’rok’kin by surprise, for they had been told there was not another dragon in the vicinity once they killed the sentry and captured the red one. The black dragon incinerated a trio of them while the Scinterian took down two more with her deadly arrows. Drakar swooped in tightly to Talan, knocking one free that clung with its fangs buried in her wing. In the close quarters, Raine moved to her swords, slicing up whatever Drakar veered towards that somehow escaped his flame.

Talan was now more free to defend herself, but two of the bat-like creatures still held the rope. Drakar had to steer clear of the dangerous cord, uncertain what effect its touch would have on him. But Raine had no fear of the golden thread. On one precarious dive, she leaped from Drakar’s neck and grabbed hold of the taut line, sliding down its length towards the two monstrosities that held her love in check. She met them feet first, hitting one with such force it knocked it free and sent it spinning toward the ground. The other she fought one-handed, blocking the vicious swipes of its talons with her short sword. With a tremendous swing, she decapitated the beast.

But now that the line was no longer held taut, Raine hurtled toward the ground. The rope snapped tight in a jarring move, and yet somehow she managed to hold on. Now she was only a few feet off the ground, and was able to get a very good look at the multitude of Hyr’rok’kin that gnashed their teeth below her, leaping up and slicing their claws at her.