The Rage (14 page)

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Authors: Richard Lee Byers

BOOK: The Rage
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Thanks to his studies, he knew what it meant. Some shield dragons mastered the ability to make a victim fall away from the earth. He had only a moment to anchor himself, or he’d hurtle scores of feet skyward, hang there until the magic ran out of power, and come plummeting down.

He flung himself to the deck, drove his iron claws through the planks, and clutched at the splintered oak. The heavens pulled at him, but his grip anchored him.

It wasn’t, however, enough simply to cling there. He had to deal with Azhaq. He kicked the deck with his metal foot, smashing through, then hooked the extremity in the hole. It wasn’t as secure a hold as the one he’d established with his talons, out it would have to do. He needed his hands.

He grabbed, caught Azhaq by the legs, and heaved him into a grapple, which entailed pulling him into the zone where things fell upward. Unafraid of such an occurrence, the Talon kicked at Dorn’s iron leg, trying to knock it out of the hole. The hunter struggled to shift his hands into a position from which they could batter Azhaq into submission. It was harder than he could have imagined. Despite his scrawny, old-man appearance and the arrow in his gut, the silver was astonishingly strong, and a cunning wrestler as well.

Then the situation became more desperate still as Azhaq started to transform. His limos thickened. In another second, Dorn wouldn’t be able to wrap his fingers around them. The

silver’s neck stretched, his face extended into a pair of jaws, and his teeth lengthened into ivory daggers capable of shattering a human skull with one nip.

At last Dorn managed to twist his iron wrist free of his adversary’s grip. He slammed his knuckle spikes into Azhaq’s temple. The silver went limp.

The violent action nearly jerked Dorn’s foot out of its mobring. It did make him fumble his grip on Azhaq, who immediately tumbled upward. In a second, the Talon was high above his attacker’s head. Dorn couldn’t tell if Azhaq was alive or dead, nor at the moment did he care. He had other things to think about.

It was possible that by distancing herself from the galley, Kara had intended to keep Moonwing’s attacks directed solely at. her, thus sparing her allies. If so, it had worked so far. Pavel, Raryn, Will, and the sailors were still alive. The shield dragon decided it wouldn’t endure the steady harassment of arrows, sling stones, and priestly attack spells any longer, even if they didn’t seem to be doing him any great harm. He conjured a blast of fire that sent Kara reeling, then, confident she wouldn’t trouble him for the next few seconds, swooped at the galley.

Despite Pavel’s blessing, some of the sailors couldn’t bear the terror of the onslaught and leaped overboard. Other folk managed a final missile. It looked to Dorn as if Will’s rock hit Moonwing squarely in the left eye. Alas, the pain wasn’t enough to keep the onrushing dragon from breathing out a jet of pearly vapor, a blast that would sweep the galley from prow to stern.

Grimly aware that that one attack might well kill everyone onboard, Dorn held his breath and pressed himself flat against the deck. It was only when the white fumes washed over him, and he discovered they weren’t cold that he knew Moonwing had been merciful. Silvers could expel either a breath weapon capable of freezing a man solid or one that merely induced a temporary paralysis, and the Talon had opted for the latter.

Still, that was all Moonwing needed to neutralize most of his adversaries onboard. When the mist dissipated, Dorn saw that the majority of the sailors either stood or lay motionless. Even Will was in the same condition, petrified in the act of plucking another rock from his belt pouch.

But because Dorn hadn’t inhaled the fumes and had avoided their touch as much as possible, or perhaps simply by dint of his natural hardiness or luck, he could still move. If he could make his way off the quarterdeck, out of the lingering effect of Azhaq’s magic, maybe he could make Moonwing regret it. He dragged himself forward, clawing and kicking new holds in the planks as he went, and heaved himself down the companionway.

• He landed heavily, surely bruising himself. He didn’t care. It felt too good just to escape the relentless, dizzying pull of the sky. He snatched up his bow and dashed forward, seeking a spot that would afford him a clear shot, past the sail and rigging, at Moonwing wheeling in the sky.

In so doing, he came into proximity with Raryn, who was loosing one arrow after another, seemingly without pausing to aim, though Dorn knew the appearance was deceptive. The tracker’s quiver was nearly empty.

“Sorry to leave you to handle the other one all by yourself,” said Raryn, without glancing away from his target.

“You needed to focus on the one that was already in drake form and on the wing,” Dorn said, drawing his own bow. “I understand. How are we doing?”

“Moonwing doesn’t act hurt,” said the dwarf. “I cast a charm to help my arrows pierce the scales, but still, I don’t feel like I’m accomplishing much more than I would jabbing him with a pin. I fear this is primarily Kara’s fight”

“If we let that be true, we’re finished,” said Dorn, snatching another shaft from his supply.

He would have given anything for an arrow specially enchanted to slay dragons, but alas, he’d only had the one he’d wasted back in Ylraphon.

The two wyrms soared, each evidently trying to gain the

advantage of higher altitude. Then the pounding of Kara’s wings became uneven, as if the wounded one had started to fail her. Wobbling in the air, she leveled off.

Moonwing dived at her and spread his jaws wide to breathe. But no more vapor burst from the silver’s maw. Evidently Kara had used the same spell she’d employed against the black wyrm, stealing his ability to attack in that way without him even realizing it.

It must have surprised the Talon, but it didn’t make him falter. His foe was still floundering beneath him, and he kept on plummeting, talons poised to catch and rend.

Kara waited until he was almost on top of her, so close and hurtling so fast that it was impossible for him to dodge, before unleashing her own breath weapon. The fumes crackled like the tame lightning bolts wizards sometimes conjured, but flared even brighter. Maybe the female dragon had heightened the glare with a spell. In any case, the blaze made Dorn flinch and surely blinded Moonwing, who took the blast right in the eyes.

Still, the shield dragon drove on toward his mark. At the last possible instant, Kara dodged out of his way. It was only then that Dorn realized she could still fly perfectly well. She’d only pretended otherwise to trick Moonwing into doing what she wanted.

As the larger wyrm plunged past her, she clawed at his wing, caught hold, and yanked herself onto his back, where, to Dorn’s surprise, she started singing. The words were in Draconic, so he couldn’t understand them, but the tune had a fierce, defiant sound.

Kara kept on tearing at Moonwing, shredding his wings, as they plummeted together. When they slammed down into the gray water, the prodigious splash threw cold spray over the side of the galley floating just a few yards away. An instant later, a wave rocked the ship, and Dorn had to fight to keep his balance.

Once he managed that, he saw that Kara had managed to land on top of her adversary. Moonwing, who seemed to have

recovered his sight, twisted his head around to bite her, but he was an instant too slow. She used his body as a platform to kick off and Lake flight once more.

If he was to pursue her, Moonwing would have to get back into the air without the same advantage. As at home in water as on land or in the sky, a black or bronze dragon could have done it easily, but silvers lacked the same facility. Moonwing’s damaged wings pounded, straining to lift him from the waves.

Until he succeeded, he’d be close to the galley and relatively stationary, not streaking about high overhead, and Dorn intended to exploit that vulnerability. He and Raryn drove one arrow after another into those spots where a dragon’s hide was thinnest. Will dashed forward, leaped atop a bundle of cargo, and balancing as easily as if he stood on solid earth, whirled his sling. Pavel had evidently used a prayer to free the halfling from his paralysis.

Moonwing roared and jerked as the missiles pierced and battered him. At last the barrage was wearing him down.

Wheeling over his head, Kara stopped singing to cry, “You’ve lost, Talon. Yield, and we’ll let you live.”

Bugger that, thought Dorn. He reached for one of his last few arrows, and someone gripped his wrist, restraining him. He turned. The meddler was Pavel.

“Moonwing still has his teeth, his claws, and a skull full of spells,” said the priest. “Kara’s right. If we can end this now, we should”

Dorn glared at him, but when his friend didn’t flinch, he left the arrow in the quiver.

Moonwing left off beating his wings to tread water. “What of Azhaq?” the Talon asked.

Kara peered at the other silver, floating motionless, caught midway between human and wyrm form, high above the sea.

“He’s alive,” she said, and Dorn could only marvel at the keenness of the senses that enabled her to verify that fact at such a distance.

“I’m a healer,” Pavel shouted. “I can help both of you, if you promise that afterward, you’ll leave this vessel and everyone aboard in peace.”

Moonwing bared his fangs and said, “If Azhaq hadn’t taken human form—to avoid terrorizing you, to deal gently with you—you never could have bested us”

“I guess you’ll know better next time,” said Will. “Meanwhile, what’s it to be? I’m running low on skiprocks, but the nice thing about a sling is, you can always find something to throw”

“I yield,” Moonwing growled.

“Thank you,” Kara said. Her wings hammered, carrying her higher. “I’ll fetch Azhaq down.”

 

The aftermath of the fight proved a lengthy business. The ship’s company had to recover those sailors who’d jumped overboard—to Raryn’s relief, they found all but two—steer their vessel back on course, and get the shield dragons within reach of Pavel’s healing touch. The last was harder than it needed to be because, his surrender notwithstanding, Moonwing adamantly refused to assume human form to facilitate his coming aboard. He evidently feared making himself any more vulnerable than necessary.

Raryn was as careful of the silvers as they were of their vanquishers. The Talons seemed honest, which meant that, having given their surrender, they were likely to behave themselves. Still, one never knew. Harpoon and ice-axe at the ready, the dwarf made it a point to watch the shield dragons closely until they took flight, and to peer after them in case they doubled back. Eventually they vanished among the first stars of evening, and still he remained vigilant, grateful that, though his folk didn’t spend their lives underground like the other branches of their race, they possessed the same ability to see in the dark.

Fortunately, he could stand guard and attend to his companions’ conversations at the same time. Once he had the

galley ordered to his satisfaction, the captain, predictably, came to complain.

“It’s possible,” the scowling seaman said to Dorn, “that if you hadn’t loosed that first arrow, we could have avoided a fight”

“Only by giving up Kara,” Pavel said. “Were you really willing to do that?”

The captain hesitated then said, “Well, I didn’t certainly want to lose two hands or have my quarterdeck ripped to pieces”

In human form once more, Kara stepped forward, a diamond brooch in her slender hand. Finally understanding what she truly was, Raryn assumed the jewelry she carried with her came from her own personal dragon hoard.

“This should pay to repair the ship,” she said, “with coin leftover for the kin of those who drowned. I realize treasure alone doesn’t make up for lost lives, but I hope it helps a little”

“If the brooch doesn’t,” said Will, “the glory should. Skipper, if you’ve got any sense, you’ll spread the story far and wide of how you and your men fought off two dragons with only a couple casualties and not a bit of cargo lost or spoiled. Every merchant in the North will be eager to trade with such a hero, and no pirate will dare molest you.”

The mariner grunted and took the jewelry.

“What’s done is done, I suppose,” he said, then tramped away.

Kara surveyed her bodyguards, sighed, and said, “I suppose it will take more than extra gems to regain your friendship”

“It’s worth a try,” Will said with a grin.

“Silence, insect,” Pavel said. “Yes, Karasendrieth, it will take more. From the start, we knew you had secrets, but we didn’t require you to give, them up. We respected you for helping the folk in Ylraphon, and in any case, guarding you didn’t seem any shadier than other jobs we’ve done. But now we’ve raised our hands to silver dragons. Dorn started the violence

with a foul blow, some would say. This despite the fact that, during my novitiate my teachers taught me that shield drakes are wise and noble beings, not divine, of course, but agents of good and beloved of Lathander. So now I need to understand whether, somehow, my friends and I have acted justly or if I must atone for a heinous sin.”

Dorn sneered and said, “What makes you think she’ll tell us the truth this time?”

Kara looked as if the gibe had cut her but declined to answer in kind.

She merely said, “Judge for yourself.”

And as the frigid night wind moaned through the rigging, and Raryn surveyed the black, starry dome of the sky, she told her story.

14 Marpenoth, the Year of Wild Magic

(1372 DR)

Kara was weary by the time she soared over Bloodstone Pass, for she’d flown hundreds of leagues through air crisp with the promise of winter. Other wyrms of her acquaintance had deemed the journey a fool’s errand and declined to accompany her, but she thought she knew what the golds wanted to discuss, therefore she couldn’t stay away. Her nightmares wouldn’t let her.

She pressed on for another hour, farther north into the jagged, perpetually snow-capped mountains called the Galenas, until she spotted the meeting ground, a rocky natural bowl nestled among the peaks. Despite her anxieties, the sight thrilled her, for she doubted any living creature had ever beheld such a spectacle. The depression blazed with the sunlight reflecting from the scales of dozens of wyrms—golds, silvers, brasses, coppers, bronzes,

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