The Dragonswarm (17 page)

When we entered the village of Chaaron, there were few people out in the streets, but those who saw us walk into town watched with open suspicion. Mothers gathered their children close by as we walked slowly along the town's main street, and men glared. Hands strayed to the hilts of swords, and more than one young man watched us pass with an arrow held to the string of a bow.

"They're terrified of us," I said. My voice sounded eerie, too loud within the lonely silence of the villagers watching us pass.

"The dragons are not yet the worst monsters on the plains," Caleb said. I flinched at the words, feeling in them an accusation he perhaps had not intended. He certainly seemed as unaffected by my violence earlier as he was by the silent, hateful stares. I noticed his hands rested on the hilts at his sides, but he moved with a relaxed grace that I envied.

Halfway through the town I spotted an inn. It stood on the main streets, with a simple sign hanging above the door. I pointed it out to Caleb, and he nodded. As we crossed the twenty or thirty feet of space separating us from the inn, the silent spectators began to whisper among themselves, a dark rustling at the idea of us lingering here overnight. When we were still two paces from the inn's door, it clattered open to reveal a red-faced man wearing an apron. We stopped in surprise, but he scowled and waved a bony finger at us.

"Don't you come one step closer, you hear? I want no strangers in my place of business."

I stepped back, looked up at the sign, then looked at the skinny old innkeeper. "It's an
inn
."

"Even...even so," he stammered. "Times are...times are hard. And we've no place for you here. Move along."

Caleb barely shifted, barely adjusted his shoulders, but as he stood with both hands resting on the hilts of his swords, I saw he was ready to do great violence of his own. It was not the animal madness that had driven me before, but quiet, resigned authority. He watched my eyes and waited for the order.

Something in the back corner of my mind howled at me to unleash him and glory in the blood that was spilled. I focused on a calming breath and held it at bay, then turned back to the innkeeper. "Sir, we mean no harm to you or your town. We just need a place to stay the night and a warm meal if you have one."

The muttering around the square became a muted roar as the villagers protested my small request. The innkeeper stood on his toes to look past us and saw for the first time the angry mob building outside his inn. The sight gave him courage. "Ah! Listen here. I have neither a meal nor a room for the likes of you. Now go!" He looked past us again and nodded to himself. "You hear me? You can't stay! Now get out of here. Go home!"

Behind us someone shouted, "Move along!" And another, "Get on, then! Get out!" The innkeeper smiled grimly and slammed the door in our faces.

I reached out to pound a fist, to call him back, but Caleb batted my hand away. "No use," he said. "This is going to get ugly." He jerked his head toward the crowd behind me. His eyes were moving fast over them, calculating, and his hand moved up toward the massive sword on his back.

"It won't come to that," I snapped. "They're just townfolk! We can't—" A fist-sized rock hit my shoulder hard, knocking me back against the inn's door. Another smashed into the wall beside my head. Caleb shrugged.

"They're a mob now." He drew the heavy sword, but the rain of stones continued.

I remembered what I had done to the farmer, but I remembered too that he had been so ready to fire on me before I ever acted. I pressed hard against the walls I'd built in my mind, then looked with my wizard's sight just in time to see the coal-gray streak of stone before it slammed into my left hip. My breath escaped in a hiss, and fire flared up hot behind my eyes.

"Forget the sword," I growled. "Let me handle this." A stone that might've hit Caleb's head skittered off to the left and shattered a window of the inn. I had more time to concentrate on a brick hurtling toward my midsection, and with a snarl I released its energies into a fine puff of red dust.

More were coming, but I tapped the throbbing darkness in my heart and fashioned threads of air into a kind of shield, half a dome, invisible, that I suspended at arm's length before us. Caleb was already moving forward, blade bared, and the men closest to him broke and fled. I had no wish to see him harmed, though. I wrapped him in bonds of air and hauled him back behind me and pinned him there.

No one seemed to have noticed the shield I'd made. They kept throwing stones, and now I saw a brick land on empty air a foot from my head. It hung as though caught in a web, alongside a hundred others. More came, and I felt the furious force of each stone slamming into my will. It made no difference—every stone stuck fast—but the anger behind it fed the fire burning inside me. Stones continued to rain down for some time, and I waited until the last to move. I waited until they were all watching, curious.

Somewhere inside me, part of me watched, too—a curious spectator, wondering what would come next.

A confused, curious hush fell over the crowd. The web of stones hung between us like a perforated wall, and I let my gaze pass over the crowd gathered there. All too easily I could envision the damage I could do. I had felled dragons on the wing with scarcely more munition than this.

Behind me, Caleb said softly, "Hero or madman." I unleashed his bonds.

"I came here to help them," I said. My voice trembled.

"They don't want your help." Caleb's voice rang like an indictment in the silence on the square.

The dragon voice clamored in the back of my head.
Kill them. Kill them and take their power.
My own thoughts, but from a darker part of me. It worked that way for dragons. Perhaps it did for men as well. At the least I could take food and drink. I could find weapons in this town. Armor, even, with some little luck. They had attacked me first. The proof of it hung heavy in the air between us.

I growled, deep and angry, and poured all that throbbing fury into the web of stones. I threw them. Not at the crowd, but up into the air. I fired the whole mass of them a dozen paces up then blasted them to dust that rained down across the square like ash.

The townsfolk gasped in fear, screamed in terror, then broke and fled in perfect panic. I looked back over my shoulder at the inn's door. I could have reduced it to splinters, could have demanded a feast and no one in this town would have dared defy me. Not now.

But I would not take what I had won by might. Not from helpless villagers. I met Caleb's eyes and jerked my head toward the road. "There will be other towns. We'll find refuge elsewhere."

He nodded solemnly and with a swift motion sheathed the cruel sword. He stepped up beside me, and we followed the road out of town and into the night.

Caleb was worried about the villagers coming after us, and I was worried how I might respond if I had to face them again, so we both moved quickly down the road. It curved gradually back toward the west which suited me well. Teelevon still called to me—Pazyarev would find Isabelle in time—but if I came to her this monster, I might do as much damage as the elder legend.

That thought dragged at my heels. Sometime after midnight I felt too tired to go on, and the night was cold, so I finally urged Caleb to stop. We made a little camp within sight of the road. I borrowed Chaos to make a campfire and bent threads of air around and above us to hide us from men and monsters alike.

I sat beside the fire, warming cold fingers, but Caleb turned his back and sat a small distance away, looking toward the road and keeping watch on the whole vast night. He cocked his head at noises I never heard, and his eyes traced paths in the night that could have been the flight of dragons or the movements of armies, but I saw nothing.

After some time I said, "Are you not cold?"

He shrugged but didn't turn.

"You can come closer to the fire."

He shook his head. "Bad for my night vision."

I laughed softly. I fell into my wizard's sight and looked out on a world glowing with the light of countless little swirling energies. The iridescent shapes of reality danced and blazed beneath the knife-edged beams of moonlight. There were no armies, and no dragons near enough to threaten.

"I can see for us both," I said. "Enjoy the warmth."

Still he shook his head. "I trust my own hands. I believe my eyes and ears. I take more comfort from the watch than from your fire."

"But you have seen my power," I said. "You saw what I did when they threw stones at Chaaron."

He nodded, never taking his eyes off the black night. "I also saw the one that hit you. And the one that barely missed." He tapped the side of his head. "I will do things my way."

I shivered and moved a little closer to the fire. Silence fell across the world. Then sometime later he said, "Explain it to me."

The words barely reached me. I raised my eyes to the back of his head, and he shrugged. "If you can. If you would. If you ever will, tell me now." He fell silent for a heartbeat, then said, "It makes no difference, but I want to know."

"Know what?"

"What are you? Why...why? I could understand the farmer. I could understand the village. I cannot understand them together."

I closed my eyes against the searing light of the fire. "The farmer was an accident," I said. "A mistake. I lost control."

"Aha," he said, and the sure understanding in his voice twisted in my gut like the blade of a knife.

"It's worse even than you know," I said. "And you should know. You deserve the truth, if you will travel at my side. I'm tainted by the blood of dragons. I lived among them; I think like them. I can borrow power from that part of me, but it makes me reckless as well."

He shrugged one shoulder. "That is the nature of power."

"No." I gave a violent shake of my head. "No, you don't understand. I am half a monster, Caleb."

"As I said." He raised a hand before I could argue. "Every man who deals in death carries that secret knowledge in his heart, Daven. You are not the first, and you won't be the last."

"But that farmer—"

"Is not dead. There are men with far less power than you who would have done far worse to him just for the boots on his feet." He paused, then he rose and turned to me. He met my eyes across the fire. "Why did you not demand a dinner at Chaaron?"

I tried to laugh the question away. "We were not welcome there—"

"You had them subdued. If they brought anything else against you, you could have resolved that as well. And your stomach has been growling since even before the farmer's hut."

"I can survive without stealing—"

"They tried to kill you. Understand that. Those stones were not thrown in jest. They tried to kill you, and you conquered them. You were due some spoils."

I sighed and broke his gaze. "I don't want to conquer men. I want to war with dragons."

"And you mean to raise an army," he said. "And you will need a stronghold. These are the ways to wage a war, and you cannot succeed if you do not follow the rules."

"Conquering the weak, stealing spoils...that's how the dragons gather power, Caleb. I'm afraid of—"

He nodded, solemn. "There," he said. "There is the truth. You are afraid."

"Should I not be?"

He shrugged, just a shadow beyond the flames. "You will wage no war until you are willing to embrace your power." He turned away. "You will wage no war at all if you starve beneath these stars."

I frowned at his back for a moment. Then I closed my eyes and looked out with my wizard's sight. Everywhere among the tall grasses danced the dim red tracery of lifeblood, and I soon found the frantic, vibrating glow of a creature of prey. I reached out with my will, wrapped it up in bonds of air, and slung it like it a stone toward our camp.

With no more warning than the sound of the poor animal in flight, Caleb had one sword drawn and the other half from its sheath before the hare crashed to the ground at his feet. Caleb skewered it on his blade and threw me a critical glance, but I just smiled up at him.

"Let's neither of us starve," I said. "And we can both work on embracing my power."

He grunted, disapproving. After a moment he chuckled. Then he drew a skinning knife from a sheath on his boot and bent to dress the hare.

We shared the rabbit's rich meat between us, and before we were done we picked the bones clean. Then Caleb went back to his vigil, and I stretched out on the grass to sleep. I dispelled the fire with a thought, and my shadowy companion nodded his approval.

After some time he said, "But what did you intend?"

"Hmm?"

"At Chaaron," he said. "Why did we go there at all? I thought you meant to recruit them."

"I think I did," I said. I swallowed hard, remembering the feeling that had dragged me down the road. It
was
a dragon's instinct. I had meant to subdue them or destroy them, and either way gain power. But even after his little speech, I couldn't admit that.

"They surprised me," I said instead. "That village reminded me of one I grew up in, a long time ago. I still can't believe the suspicion, the hate. I've
never
seen someone throw a stone at a stranger before."

He grunted. "Welcome to the world of men. How long
were
you in the dragon's den?"

"I wish I knew. At least a month. No more than two, I think. Why—" The starlight dimmed as a shadow passed over us. I looked at Caleb, and he had seen it, too. His eyes followed the path of the shadow's motion, but it was already lost in the darkness.

I waited a moment, but he was still staring off into the night to the west. After a moment he rose and absently gripped the hilt of the sword on his belt. "That one was low," he whispered, tilting his head. "I can almost hear—"

Again the wizard's sight peeled back the night, and I silenced Caleb with a gesture. I could see the dragon's Chaos shadow clear as sunrise, and I could nearly read its power as well. A single adult, and not a strong one at that. And it
was
near enough for us to strike.

I was about to give him the directions when a shout broke the night. A man's voice cried, "Help!" It was distant, almost inaudible, but when I heard it Caleb was already moving. He drew both swords and sprinted off into the night. Cursing, I gathered up the threads of our little shield and ran after him.