The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga (16 page)

Sensing that Rondel had lost her wits, Iren
asked, “What on Raa is she?”

* * *

Rondel ignored Iren utterly. In fact, she
momentarily forgot he existed. She just stared blankly at the
woman, refusing to believe the truth. She couldn’t be here!

Her presence changed everything. All of
Rondel’s strategies and cunning deceptions had fallen flat upon
beholding the unconscious woman.

She needed a new plan, and quickly. She felt
Iren’s skeptical eyes on her. The Rondel she had cultivated for him
was always in control, but now she’d let that mask fall. Her true
feelings were on full display, and even a social inept like Iren
couldn’t help but notice them. She had to get them under control,
had to refocus, yet every time she looked at the woman’s face,
shock struck her anew.

She wanted to run, to take the woman and
flee. She wanted to grab one of those fine horses and tear through
Akaku, letting the hard spruce branches whip at her, ripping her
clothes and slicing her skin. The pain would mean nothing. Every
fiber in her body told her to take this woman and race all the way
to Ziorsecth Forest. It was about the only way to make it in
time.

She forced herself back, the effort more
draining than any of the fighting on this mission. If she left now,
all her efforts would be wasted. She was so close; it wouldn’t take
much longer. The treason that had buried itself for so long would
soon emerge. Only then could her plan enter its final stage.

On top of that, there were the dreams, those
dragon-cursed nightmares that kept her awake and filled her with a
constant mix of regret and loathing. If she left now, they’d
undoubtedly return, probably worse than ever. She managed a look at
Iren and hoped that her malice didn’t come through in her
expression. It was all his fault. The dreams caused her enough
problems when she’d lived just outside the castle walls, barely a
mile from him. How bad would they become if the Oni killed him?

No, she couldn’t leave this place just yet.
Even so, she couldn’t let this woman die.

She made her decision: gamble and hope for a
good roll. Never in her life had she taken such a chance, but she
didn’t have much choice. She needed to remain here and see this to
the end. There was only one way to do that and still get the woman
to Ziorsecth in time. The dreams would return, but she wouldn’t
likely find time for sleep in the next few days anyway. With a
great force of will, she faced Iren, adopted the fake innocent
smile that served her so well and said, “You’ll have to take her to
Ziorsecth Forest.”

Iren did a double take. “I have to do
what?”

Her fragile grip on the false grin broke.
She lashed out, “Know-nothing child! This woman is a Kodama, a
guardian of Ziorsecth Forest. They’re a cursed race; they die if
they leave their forest home. I don’t have a clue how she got here,
but the only way to save this woman’s life is to return her there
as quickly as possible.”

Furrowing his brow, Iren asked angrily, “Why
should I have to go? Take her yourself, if you care so much about
her. In case you forgot, we have an important job to do here! The
Quodivar leader is here, and I won’t leave until I have my
revenge!”

Rondel couldn’t contain herself anymore. She
swung her wrinkled fist and struck Iren across the side of the
face, sending the young Maantec sprawling. A brief pang of
self-hatred and a flash of childhood memory long neglected hit her
as she made contact. She repressed them both, concentrating on her
anger. “Listen, idiot. Assuming Zuberi’s even here in the first
place, he has an Oni backing him up, as well as potentially more
Quodivar and Yokai. You think you can handle all that without my
help? You said yourself that you’d have to rely on me to complete
this mission. If I go with her, how do you expect to defeat the
Quodivar?”

Iren hauled himself back to his feet. “Fine,
so let’s deal with the Quodivar and come back for her
afterward.”

“
We don’t have time! Every
second she stays outside Ziorsecth, she gets closer and closer to
death. You need to take her immediately!”

Rondel still couldn’t bring herself to look
Iren in the face, but his unwavering posture showed his answer. The
old Maantec fumed, her fists shaking. She needed a different
tactic. With a great will, she softened her face and said, trying
her best to sound genuinely pleading, “Please, Iren, do this for
me. I told you of your past, of the Maantecs. I told you about the
Muryozaki, Divinion, and the Dragon Knights. Please, save this
woman for me. Only you can. Take one of these horses and ride hard.
They’re quality animals, and all of them are well-provisioned for a
lengthy trip. Any one of them can get you across Lodia in a week.
If you go due west, you’ll hit Ziorsecth Forest, guaranteed. I’ll
open the fort’s gate for you; it should be nearby.”

Iren didn’t reply initially. His body
shifted slowly, turning from Rondel to the Kodama and back again.
Just when Rondel felt he would refuse her, he said, “I wanted
revenge with my own hands. I hope you know what I’m giving up here.
I won’t get another chance to avenge my parents.”

Rondel couldn’t help herself. She laughed
and replied, “Karma isn’t always so simple. Now move!”

Iren cut the cords lashing the Kodama to the
stable wall. As he hefted her onto his shoulders, her scent, the
fresh aroma of autumn leaves, wafted over Rondel. A deep, longing
nostalgia struck her, but she pushed it back with a great
effort.

Approaching the finest
charger of the bunch, a sleek black stallion, Iren whispered in the
horse’s ear the words Rondel had used in Haldessa,
“
Kuylet
,
trempiot
.” The majestic
stallion nodded his head once in response to Iren’s words, then
allowed Iren to climb into the saddle with the Kodama seated in
front of him. Despite herself, Rondel grinned slyly. The boy
definitely needed to work on his listening skills, but on the rare
occasions when he actually paid attention, he learned
fast.

Just as they reached the stable door,
however, the structure burst into flames. They had no warning; the
whole building spontaneously combusted all at once. The horses
reared and panicked in their stalls, and Iren’s mighty warhorse
shot through the open door, heedless of his rider’s attempted
commands.

As soon as Iren disappeared, Rondel’s will
hardened. Now came the critical moment. Clutching her dagger, she
exited the collapsing building as calmly as though leaving her home
in the morning. Her eyes sparked, and in the burning light she saw
that the fires engulfed not only the stable but the entire fort.
She couldn’t locate Iren, but already large holes had appeared
where portions of the stockade had burned. Maybe he had already
escaped.

Or maybe he was already dead.

She had little time to dwell on it as the
opponent she’d known was waiting for her stepped from the shadows.
She cursed as she took him in. He looked just like the Yokai she’d
faced earlier, but he stood well over three times their size. The
Oni arched its back and issued a roar of challenge that echoed even
over the howling flames. He wore no armor, and his only weapon was
a short, fat, rectangular sword that glowed red, like it had
freshly emerged from a forge.

Rondel steeled herself. Oni on their own
made for dangerous opponents, but the cave had changed her mind
about this monster. Lodia wasn’t volcanic. No natural force carved
those obsidian tubes or triggered the detonation that caused the
cave-in. The fort’s sudden combustion only provided more proof.
Yokai possessed magic, but not at this level. Their casters
traditionally focused on enchantments, carving spells into a weapon
that could enhance its destructive power without requiring much
magic to wield.

She shuddered, trying to remain calm and
knowing she was failing. A thousand years had passed since she’d
last seen it. Even then, in her prime, its strength had terrified
her. The war should have destroyed it. The war did destroy it, or
so she’d always believed. Yet here it was, right in front of her,
in the hands of an Oni: the Fire Dragon Sword, Karyozaki.

���
Whoa! Stop! Halt! Enough
already!”

The panicked stallion couldn’t care less
about Iren’s shouts as it raced through the forest. Only a few
minutes had passed since fleeing the burning stable, and already
numerous low-hanging spruce limbs had sliced up both Iren’s and the
Kodama’s bodies. The horse broke the bigger ones, but the smaller,
springier branches had an annoying habit of bending as the horse
hit them and then whipping back at high speed.

Through the impacts, Iren struggled to keep
hold of both the reins and the Kodama. He should have strapped her
in, but it was far too late for that. Instead, he held the reins
with one hand and kept her body pressed against his with the other.
This close, her scent overwhelmed him. He didn’t know what the
smell compared to, yet it invigorated him and pressed him to
continue.

“
Ow!” he couldn’t help but
cry as a particularly nasty limb left a brutal welt on his arm.
Even though it wasn’t really the animal’s fault, he still yelled,
“Hey, watch it!”

His protestation went unheeded. The horse
ran on and on, though Iren had the distinct impression the creature
was running in circles. Despite the beast’s impressive speed, the
burning fort didn’t look any further away.

“
Kuylet
,
trempiot
!”
he roared in desperation.

The horse stopped so suddenly Iren was
thrown forward, rolling over the Kodama’s unconscious form. He fell
hard on his face. Spitting out a mix of muddy slush and spruce
needles, he heaved himself to his feet and glared at the stallion.
“Perhaps a little gentler next time?” he asked.

The animal whickered and tossed his head
noncommittally, his attention elsewhere. Iren crossed his arms, but
the charger acted as though the boy didn’t exist.

“
Don’t be so upset,” a bass
voice with a drawling accent said. Iren spun around to face it, and
then he took an involuntary step backward. From the shadows of the
forest emerged a giant man, over seven feet tall and so muscular he
could probably snap an Oni’s neck between his fingers. The fires
from the fort lit up his countenance, revealing that he had dark
brown skin and jet black hair, the look of a Tacumsah islander.
Plate armor covered his chest and legs, and chain mail protected
his arms and head. On the man’s back hung a massive blade as long
as the man was tall and over a foot wide at its base. It had to
weigh an absurd amount. If all that armor and weaponry burdened the
giant in the least, however, he didn’t show it.

The islander smirked. “Nightraid never
listens to anyone save the leader of the Quodivar.”

Iren’s eyes flicked to the horse. The
stallion’s focus had clearly shifted to the man. Both of his ears
pointed directly at the giant, and it didn’t react in the slightest
to the sounds or sights of the fort burning in the distance.

Gulping, Iren returned his gaze to the
armored man. “That means you’re Zuberi.” He spat the name, trying
to keep his voice from quivering. It didn’t help that he had to
crane his neck upward to look at the Tacumsahen’s face.

Zuberi nodded. “And you are Iren Saitosan, a
Left.”

Iren stopped dead. How could the Quodivar
leader know his name?

An explosion from within the fort distracted
them both. The dark-skinned man bellowed in a deep laugh, the
forest quaking from the force of it. “Looks like Hezna is enjoying
himself. He has all the fun.” Zuberi paused a moment, then
stretched out his right hand, offering it to Iren. “Well, shall we
go?”

Iren feared for Rondel, but amid the flames
he could see no sign of her. He put his left hand to the
Muryozaki’s hilt. “I won’t go anywhere with you.”

Zuberi maintained his arrogant sneer. “No
doubt Rondel told you all about Maantecs. You know what Lodia has
done to them.”

The young man blinked twice. Something was
very wrong here. He hadn’t expected the Quodivar leader to know
about him, much less the old hag and Maantecs.

“
We can remake Lodia into a
place of tolerance, where Maantecs need not live in fear,” Zuberi
continued, ignoring Iren’s bewilderment. “Join me in overthrowing
this miserable country. Maantec battle prowess is legendary. If you
fight by my side, together with the Yokai, what enemy could stand
against us?”

White rage welled in Iren. “Fight by your
side?” he shouted. “How many Lodians lay dead because of you and
your Quodivar?”

Zuberi brushed off Iren’s question. “Their
deaths are necessary. Besides, you have no reason to defend Lodia.
Its people consider you a child of the devil! We of the Quodivar
will not scorn you. Quite the contrary, we will celebrate and
reward you for your abilities.”

Acid filled Iren’s reply, “I’ve heard
enough.” He didn’t care how Zuberi knew about him, Rondel, or
Maantecs. Only one thing mattered. The man he’d risked his life to
meet, the reason he’d abandoned Haldessa Castle and left behind
everything he’d ever known, stood before him.

The Muryozaki sang as Iren drew it from its
sheath. “The first one is for Veliaf,” he growled. “The last one is
for my parents.”

The giant seemed genuinely disappointed. “I
feared you would answer that way. No matter, I’ll take over this
country regardless.” Reaching behind him, he unclasped the gigantic
sword and held it easily before him in one hand. Then he charged.
Iren anticipated Zuberi’s heavy armor and weapon slowing him, but
that guess proved wrong. The Maantec barely had time to dodge as
the first blow struck down, landing inches from Nightraid. The
thick blade sent chunks of earth skyward, leaving a crater in the
ground. The impact’s force pushed the air away from it so that
although Iren evaded the blade, the wind current caught him and
tossed him into a tree trunk.