Dragons Rising (14 page)

"Domi,
I--"

"Apologize!"
she shouted.

He
smoldered and his hand strayed toward his sword. "For what?
For--"

"Apologize
now," Domi said, "or I will shift into a dragon and not
hesitate to slay you. Just like you slew the healer who saved my
life. Yes, Gemini. You thought I was sleeping then, but I know what
you did. I know what you are. Apologize to me and vow to never more
insult my family or who I am. You will never say the word
'weredragon' again, a cruel slur. I am no longer some meek,
frightened girl for you to rescue, no servant for you to own. I am a
woman of Requiem and you will respect me. Apologize."

Her
legs trembled and her fingers stung, but she wouldn't look away from
him, and this felt good. It felt a thousand times more liberating
than letting him ride in her saddle or ride her in his bed. She was
no longer his to torment. She was strong, and she would show him her
strength.

He
saw that strength, and he lowered his head.

"Domi,
I'm sorry." Kneeling, he reached out for her hand. "Please
forgive me."

She
shoved his hand away and glared down at him. "Listen to me,
Gemini Deus. The others are alive. I know it. I can feel it. And I'm
going to find them. Do not get bogged down in a war in the south. Fly
north with me and fight Beatrix there, with us. We will strike her at
the heart of her realm, at the Temple itself, not here in the
outposts. We need you, Gemini. I need you."

"You
do?" he whispered.

Domi
sighed.
I cannot antagonize him. Perhaps striking him was foolish.
Gemini, she knew, fought from his heart, not his mind. He fought
against his mother and sister because they had wronged him. He fought
for Domi to prove his manhood, to prove he could be a strong leader,
protect her from a cruel world. She would have to play on those
emotions now.

She
knelt before him and touched his cheek. "Oh, my sweet Gemini.
I'm also sorry. I'm sorry I hit you. I need you with me. I need you
to fight with me, for me. Please." She clasped his hand and
pressed it to her heart, letting it rest against her breast. "Will
you fly north with me? To protect me?"

Like
it or not,
she thought,
Gemini is the only man who can give me
Requiem. His mother and sister would hunt us forever.

Gemini, ruling the Temple, would allow her to live. Domi would need
to suffer his love for his gift of freedom.

"But
. . . the army in the south." His eyes flicked toward the
distant desert realms. "We need that army if we're to fight
Mother."

"It's
an army of firedrakes, of charging troops, of chariots, of noise and
light and fire," Domi said. "Do you remember what happened
to the last great army that dared sail against Beatrix? It now lies
at the bottom of the sea. What we need is not brute force but
stealth. We need you to lead us Vir Requis into the Cured Temple, a
single paladin leading a handful of priests. We'll enter in disguise,
hidden in robes and hoods. Take us as far as you can into the Temple,
to the very doorstep of your mother and sister. There . . . there
dragonfire will do the work." Domi leaned forward and whispered
into his ear. "But first we must find the others. Fly with me."

He
leaned back and stared at her, then kissed her. She gasped at first,
then kissed him back.

"You
need me," he growled into her ear, tugging at her clothes.
"Don't you, Domi? You're not strong. You're not a warrior. You
still need me to save you, don't you?"

He
tore at her garments, exposing her breasts, then tugged off his armor
and tossed the plates aside. He stared at her like a wild animal,
hunger in his eyes, and licked his lips.

I will play this game,
Domi thought.
I will do whatever I
must for Requiem.

"I
. . . need you," she whispered.

He
pounced onto her like a wolf onto its prey. He tugged up her skirt
and thrust into her, rough with his passion, and his hands gripped
her hair.

"You
tried to fight me." His lips pressed against her ear. "But
you could not. You're weak, Domi. You're scared. You still need me to
lead you like I always did, don't you? I know it. You crave me to
protect you."

She
closed her eyes; they were stinging. She balled her hands into fists,
but she let him take her. She let him have this conquest, for she
knew that Gemini not only craved to conquer lands. He craved to
conquer her. He would never be like Cade, a man who fought at her
side. Gemini would forever be a conqueror, forever see her as just
another prize, just another soul to subjugate.

"You
are mine," he whispered into her ear.

"I
am yours," she whispered back, hating herself, hating him, but
knowing she must appease him for now. Gemini was her only hope, the
only hope of Requiem, and she would suffer him for the light of her
stars and the life of her family.

"I
will take you home," he whispered, kissing her, thrusting into
her almost violently. "I will carve out a kingdom for you. I
will kill my family for you. I--" He cried out. "I love
you, Domi. I love you. Always. I love you more than all the jewels
and temples in the world, more than I love the Spirit himself."

They
flew out that evening.

Both
rode on Lore, the yellow firedrake Gemini had taken from the coastal
garrison. The saddle was built for one, but Domi had grown stick-thin
during the war, and she easily slipped between Gemini and the
saddle's horn. As they flew, she gazed down at the sea, and she
lowered her head in memory of the fallen. It had been long days since
the battle, but Domi could still see driftwood floating here, the
shards of sunken ships. It seemed to her that the cries of the fallen
rose from the water.

Why
didn't you save us, Domi? Why did you let us drown? Why did you let
us burn?

"I
tried to save you," she whispered into the wind. "I flew
out with children on my back. I tried to fly across the battle."
Tears budded in her eyes. "I fell. I fell into the water and I'm
sorry. I'm so sorry I let you die."

Yet
the ghosts kept crying from the water, accusing her, screaming to her
in agony and condemnation.
You let us fall! You let us burn!
They all reached out from below, those who had fallen from her back
and thousands of others, thousands of dead for her war, the war of
Requiem, forever buried here in the dark waters.

"I
couldn't save you." She tasted her tears. "I'm sorry. I--"

"What
are you on about?" Gemini demanded. "Why are you mumbling?"

She
twisted in the saddle toward him, and she saw him frowning and
grinding his teeth.

"The
dead," she whispered. "All those who fell here."

Gemini's
anger seemed to shift, to move from her toward a distant target.
"Yes. These drowned warriors would have captured the Temple for
me. My sister killed them. She murdered my soldiers. And she'll pay
for her crime."

"Is
that all you care about?" Domi raised her chin, daring to
challenge him. "And what of the dead? What of all the lives
lost--men, women, children, each with their own hopes and wishes, a
kingdom of their own? Do you care about them, or do you only care
about your throne?"

His
eyes narrowed. "You've become a different woman, Domi. Not the
docile woman I once knew. Perhaps in the south you discovered some
sense of purpose, some cause to champion. You are innocent and
idealistic, yet I've seen much war, and I know that all men can do in
war is seek their own power. Only by supreme leadership can I stop
the horrors of the world--not through mercy but through strength."

Domi
had to bite down on her reply.
What do you know of war?
she
wanted to say.
You spent your life in a palace, bedding women and
drinking wine, while I was fleeing your sister. At least Mercy knows
something about how the world works, even if she seeks to crush that
world.

Yet
Domi would say none of those things. All year, she had hoped that
perhaps, through her love and caring, she could change Gemini. When
he had cared for her in the Temple, gentle and kind, she thought she
had discovered the goodness in him, a goodness she could foster. She
had thought that she could strip away the evil in his soul, mend the
shattered pieces of his heart which his mother and sister had
smashed. Yet now, more than ever, the task seemed too great to her.
Did Gemini's corruption run too deep, and even should she heal his
soul, would the rot deep within fester anew? She did not know.
Perhaps all she could do now was stay with him, try to hold his evil
at bay, and hope he kept true to his word--that he gave her the
kingdom of Requiem, his gift to one he loved. She would have to keep
him loving her--for Requiem and for his own tortured soul.

They
flew until night fell and the stars emerged. They slept in the
saddle, then flew through dawn. Still the sea spread ahead, no sign
of land. As fast as their firedrake flew, they were not yet halfway
across the sea. Soon Lore was panting and puffing out short bursts of
smoke, and his eyes seemed glazed, his wings stiff.

"He
cannot fly the rest of the way," Domi said. "Let Lore fly
back to Terra. He has perhaps just enough strength for the journey
home. I will carry you on my back, Gemini."

He
shook his head. "No. Lore still has a day's flight in him. Let
him keep flying north. He'll take us most of the way, leaving only a
day's flight for you."

"But
then he'll never make it back!" Domi raised her hands in
indignation. "Do you expect Lore to fall into the sea and
drown?"

Gemini
yawned and stretched in the saddle. "As you yourself have said,
Domi, thousands have already drowned. What's one more--and a mere
mindless firedrake at that?"

"A
life!" she said. "A life we can preserve!"

"I
care for preserving
our
lives." A hint of anger touched
his voice. "We're still two days from the southern coast of the
Commonwealth. You cannot fly that distance alone."

She
stood up in the saddle and, before Gemini could grab her, leaped off.
She fell down a hundred feet, shifted into a dragon, and soared.

"Onto
my back!" she said to Gemini. "Let Lore go."

He
began to object, but when Domi reached out her claws, threatening to
lift him from the saddle, Gemini grunted and climbed onto her back.
Seeming grateful, Lore spun in the sky at once and began gliding back
south, the weight off his back.

"Are
you sure you can last this journey, Domi?" Gemini leaned across
her neck. "It's a long flight. Damn! Why couldn't you have kept
Lore around?"

"It's
two days. I can fly for two days straight." Gliding on the wind,
Domi managed a smile. "And if I can't, I'll float on the water
for a while like a boat."

She
narrowed her eyes and she flew.

She
flew throughout the day until night fell again.

She
flew as a third dawn rose, weary, aching, but flying onward--to her
home, to her family, to her dream of Requiem.

She
had never flown for so long before, but she flew until she saw the
southern coast of the Commonwealth--once the coast of Requiem--and
landed on the sand.

"We're
home," she whispered, shifted back into human form, and slept.

At
night she flew again, Gemini on her back, heading north--to the
mountains, to the ruins of Draco Murus, and a dream of seeing her
family again.

 
 
CADE

On a
cold evening, Cade and Amity saw the Dair Ranin mountains in the
distance.

"We're
finally here," Cade said, gliding on the wind. "Oh stars,
Amity. We're finally here."

Fear
clanked his scales. He had been traveling for long days and nights to
this place, a hinterland in the north of the Commonwealth. Fidelity
and the others were to meet him here, but . . . so many leagues lay
between these mountains and the southern coast of Terra where they
had separated. So many bonedrakes and firedrakes filled the sky
between here and there. What if the other Vir Requis had not
survived?

"You
reckon the others are here yet?" Amity asked, riding on his
back, wearing her stolen paladin's armor. "I bet we're the
first. We're fast. Faster than those flying turtles."

"You
mean
I'm
fast," Cade said. "I'm the one doing all
the flying."

"And
I'm the one goading you on!" Amity had removed her
spurs--blessedly--but still gave him hard jabs with her heels. "Go
on, kid. Faster, faster!"

Cade
did fly faster, though not because of her goading. He wanted to reach
these mountains before dark, and he was desperate to see if the
others were here. Korvin, his mentor. Fidelity, his dearest friend.
Domi, the woman he loved. He would even be grateful to see Roen, the
man Cade had once envied but had come to think of as a brother.

And
will my real brother be here too? Gemini?

As
he flew toward the mountains, Cade's belly soured. He felt sick
whenever he thought about his true family. He didn't want to be a
Deus. He didn't want to think of Mercy and Gemini, corrupt and cruel,
sharing his blood. He didn't want to think of Beatrix, a mistress of
evil, being his mother.

My
only family is Requiem,
he thought, tightening his lips.
Requiem
and Eliana.

Just
as much as Cade missed his fellow Vir Requis, he missed Eliana. She
still lived in the Cured Temple, and Cade knew that he had to capture
that Temple, not just for Requiem but for Eliana too.

You
are my true sister, Eliana, not Mercy,
he thought.
Even if you
don't share my blood.

He
flew as the sun began to set. The mountains spread below him in a
jagged wilderness, their crests capped with snow. Cade saw no human
settlements, no roads, no forts, no sign of civilization for miles.
He could have been flying above a primordial world, one without life.
All was rocky slopes, snowy crests, icy valleys, barren and cold.