Perilous Seas (17 page)

He
tried to answer Gathmor’s questions while the sailor hauled him-half
carried him-toward the towering pile of black rock ahead, but that last word
from the dragon had left him too dazed. This was no tiny fire chick, and its
sheer intensity overwhelmed him. He had blundered hopelessly. Miscalculated.
Everything was lost, and they were all going to die.

Twice
more the gigantic voice rang in Rap’s mind, exulting, gloating, ravening
after gold ... yet curious and querying also, as if a current of doubt ran deep
below. The power of that voice was unbearable now, every blast an impact of
pain that made him think his head was being crushed, that sickened him, that
blanked out everything else except the awareness of failure and stupidity.

Sagorn
had picked his way between the litter of giant scales and was peering into a
crevice in the ropy black face of the cliff itself. He turned as Gathmor
released Rap to fall on the scorching sand at his feet.

“Now
will you explain-”

“No.
These gaps are too shallow. But there may be a cavern of some considerable size
within this cadaver.” The old man glared down at Rap. “Fool! I
suppose you thought your mastery might work on dragons? “

Rap
croaked hoarsely, then forced himself to sit up. “It worked on a fire
chick.”

Sagorn
roared in exasperation and shook both fists at the sky. “Where did you
meet a fire chick?”

“In
Milflor. Bright Water had one. “ Gold? Two legs have gold?

The
worm was close now. Its voice was a brass band inside Rap’s head, and an
earthquake also, and being crushed flat. His skull would fall apart.

Inos!
He must think of Inos. He was doing this for her, and he sought to draw strength
from her memory.

“Bright
Water! You met the witch again?” Sagorn grimaced, baring his teeth like
an angry skeleton. “Moron! Young idiot! You should have consulted me! You
should have told Andor. “ Rap began hauling himself upright, pushing
himself up the rough black face of the cliff. It burned, hotter even than the
sand. His head was still ringing from the dragon’s last fanfare, and
already the worm was much closer, sunlight flashing on silver scales as it
soared swiftly over the forest. The beat of its wings was rhythmic thunder
thudding against his eardrums. Huge! The next word it said was going to kill
him. He cringed in expectation, waiting for the next bolt of agony like a felon
hung on the whipping post, able to think of nothing but the coming lash.

“Too
strong!” he muttered.

“Obviously!”
Sagorn snapped. “Have you tried, though? Have you even tried to send it
away?”

Rap
shook his head. He was still leaning against the furnace of the rock, as he
dared not trust his legs to support him. The dragon was close enough now that
he could believe he was looking up at it, a silvery sky-snake, thrashing
through the air on wings as wide as the courtyard of the castle in Krasnegar,
its tail trailing behind it in long curves, two monstrous jeweled eyes flashing.
Beneath it, trees were tumbling and shattering like matchwood in the blast.

“It
wants gold,” he mumbled. “It thinks we have gold.” Sagorn
spun around and stalked off. “We must take cover!” he shouted over
his shoulder. “I must find cover. “

“Why
you?” Gathmor followed, firing angry questions. “Just you? And
where did you come from, anyway?”

Rap
pushed himself erect and tottered after the other two. He ought to try sending
a command to the dragon, he knew, but he was terrified that it might reply.
That voice was worse agony than anything he had ever known. It would burn his
brain to ashes.

Oh,
Inos! I tried! I tried too hard.

Sagorn
rounded a rock fragment as large as a cottage, which might have been a part of
a fetlock. He was scanning the cliff that rose so high above, looking for an
opening into that mythical cavern he hoped for. Even if he found it, it would
be only a death trap.

Then
a gigantic shadow flashed over them, and they all stopped.

The
casement! This was the moment. Rap turned to stare across the heat-distorted
sand, and for one tiny instant thought he saw a flicker of darkness there,
where the observers must have been, where he must have been. If it was there,
it had gone ...

“This
prophecy?” Gathmor shouted. “What happens?”

“We
don’t know,” Sagorn growled, watching the sky monster sweep around
in a curve, coming in lower for another pass. “This is as far as it went.”

“You
mean we may die?”

“We
probably shall. Unless Rap can sent it away.”

It
was up to him. Rap braced himself, trying to imagine he was dealing with
Firedragon, the Krasnegar stallion-or a dog, maybe, like Fleabag. He tried to
recall how he had influenced the fire chick. He took a deep breath. Go away! he
commanded.

The
response was even worse than he had expected-a shrill explosion of fright that
struck like agony, that hurled him bodily backward to sprawl on the sand. His
head came down a handsbreadth from a jagged rock, but he hardly noticed. The
dragon shied like a foal, whirled around in the sky as if knotting itself, then
spiraled down out of sight behind a hilltop. The forest exploded in a red-black
mushroom of flame and smoke.

A
moment later, a sound of thunder rolled over the clearing. The pillar of smoke
roiled skyward, ever thicker, its feet bright with fire. Sharp booms suggested
tree trunks exploding in the heat.

Gold?

That
had been a quieter, almost timorous query, but there was tenacity in it. Rap
did not think the dragon had given up. It was merely startled, and puzzled.

Sagorn
loomed over Rap, staring down with grim fury. His ghostly pale face was slick
with sweat, his bony nose and lantern jaw more skull-like than ever.

“Fool!
You thought to frighten my word of power from me?” Rap grunted and
struggled to rise. In the back of his mind he could feel the dragon’s
thoughts now-low self-mutterings of gold and of two-legses by the ancestral
relic. It was not even speech, just musings, and it filled his mind with
metallic alien echoes so torturous that he could not think.

“You
thought you could control dragons!” Sagorn snarled.

“You
were going to coerce me into telling you my word of power! “

Rap
nodded miserably and forced himself to his knees. “I might have-but it
believes we have gold.”

Sagom
sneered. “The slightest hint of gold will drive a dragon crazy. Even you
must know that! It puts them into a frenzy. They need metal to drive their
metamorphoses, gold most of all. “

“Have
we gold?” Gathmor demanded suspiciously, appearing at the old man’s
side.

Sagorn
kept his eyes on Rap. “Thinal has.”

“What!”
Rap shouted.

“In
Finrain, he stole for Andor again; to bankroll more of his philanderings.”
The old man closed his eyes and seemed to crumple. “Before he went away,
he put a coin in his mouth.”

Rap
howled. He struggled to his feet, swaying.

The
fire beyond the hill was growing larger, and louder. Trees were exploding,
smoke pulsing up in huge black clouds. High overhead, the column was drifting
westward. The dragon was coming.

“Why?”
Rap demanded. Frowning, Gathmor reached out a hand to steady him.

“He
almost always does,” Sagorn said sadly. “It is the only way any of
us can keep anything for himself. What is inside us goes with us-so Thinal
usually hides away a coin like that. When he returns, he has that much, at
least. He is only a common sneak thief, remember.”

“And
the dragon can tell?”

“Maybe
it can. Dragons are not wholly mundane. They have powers of their own. This one
may be sensing Thinal’s gold.” GOLD!

Rap
staggered and almost fell as another twisting wave of torment tore at his mind.
Could the dragon even hear his thoughts, as he seemed to be hearing its? He
wished Sagom had not told him about the gold.

“Then
call Thinal! We’ll throw the coin away and run!” Fire was glowing
through the forest at the crest of the hill as the dragon ascended the far
slope.

Sagorn
shook his head. “Useless! A taste of gold and the drake would devastate
the countryside for leagues. Its frenzy would last for days while it went
through another stage of metamorphosis. We should never escape. “

“Then
tell him the damned word!” Gathmor bellowed. Apparently he had gathered a
fair idea of what was going on. “No!” The old man glared
stubbornly. “I am too old! I need it all! “

“You
won’t need it very long-here she comes!”

At
the top of the hill, the last fringe of trees erupted in one brilliant flash,
and the dragon emerged, its whole incredible length pouring out like a string.
Not pausing at all, it continued down the slope, slithering at a speed that
would have left a racehorse standing. With wings furled, it looked very much
like a gigantic metal worm, every scale flashing color in the sunlight, and
even at that distance, Rap could feel the heat from it.

In
desperation he gathered all his strength and hurled a command: Go back!

The
monster shied, spreading wings to brake and shooting out a hail of sand and
rocks beneath its talons. It reared up on its hind legs, tall as a castle
tower, jetting a deafening howl of white fire. Returning waves of power
battered into Rap’s mind with stunning force; he felt as helpless as he
had in the surf and tide. Half stunned, he reeled back, and only Gathmor’s
steely grip stayed him from falling.

Ishist?
came the thought. Two-legs speaks? Is Ishist? The silver form curled forward,
front claws sinking into the ground. The great back was curved like a cat’s
as the dragon pondered, but Rap thought more of a dog encountering its first
porcupine. The massive triangular head swayed from side to side on the scaly
neck, regarding the problem from different angles; while all around the sand
darkened as it began to melt, then the closer regions started to glow. The
whole monster was hotter than a smith’s furnace. Heat wraiths blurred the
air around it, molten glass puddled below.

“The
word?” Rap cried.

“Tell
me yours!” Sagorn demanded.

Rap
tried to rally what little courage he had left. He felt ill and faint and very
stupid. But he wasn’t going to yield his word now. Not if he died for it.

“No!
Remember what Andor said when we met the goblins? The tables are turned,
Sagorn. It’s my talent that’s needed now, not his! Not yours! Mine!
But I must have more power.”

This
was what he had planned, the reason he had let Jalon walk into the trap; but he
had thought he would be bluffing. He had thought he would be able to control
the dragon and bully Sagorn into telling him the gang’s word. Now it was
no bluff. He could no more control this monster than he could arm-wrestle it.
He greatly doubted he would do any better as an adept, either. Probably only a
full sorcerer could coerce a dragon.

Sagorn
looked ill also, haggard and livid. His eyes flickered toward the cliff. “There
may be a cave. If I can hide from it, it may not sense Thinal in me . . .”

“No!”
Rap lurched forward and grabbed the old man by his bony shoulders. “That
won’t work, and you know it! It will blow fire in at you. Tell me! Tell
me now, or we’re all going to die.”

Not
Ishist! the dragon concluded. Two-legs not Ishist.

It
hurtled forward, splashing molten rock behind it. It came seething down the
slope. Thombushes vanished in flashes of white flame as it went by.

Sagorn
wailed, and bent his head near to Rap’s. “Well?” Rap
screamed. “Speak!”

“I
can’t! It hurts!”

Rap
shook him like a feather bolster. “It’ll hurt a lot more in two
seconds!”

The
old man choked, staggered, and slumped over Rap’s shoulder, suddenly a dead
weight. Strange noises grated in his throat, as if he were having a fit. Rap
was struggling to hold him up.

“Sagorn!”
Rap yelled. “Doctor! Tell me!”

The
dragon was on the flat and coming faster than anything Rap had ever seen,
faster than a swooping falcon. Bigger and bigger, jewel eyes blazing ...

And
then Sagorn roused himself just enough to mumble his word of power into Rap’s
ear.

Being
struck by lightning might be an experience like learning a word of power.
Nothing else was.

For
one eternal, lifeless moment, Rap thought he had blown apart. Lights seemed to
soar all around in darkness, and there was music and a great silence. Fanfares
and carillons and a deep, deep stillness like the musings of mountains.
Solitude and whirling stars. There was pain. There was ecstasy.

There
was no time to enjoy the experience. He looked up and the dragon’s
monstrous head was almost on top of him, its heat was blistering his face. He
smelled burning cloth from his robe. Sagorn and Gathmor had turned and were
staggering away, screaming. The giant gemlike eyes shone down on all of them
with a deadly inhuman intelligence, with thoughts no man could think, with
alien emotions no human would ever comprehend; the vast mouth was opening to
reveal rows of crystalline teeth around an internal blaze like a captive sun.
Scales shone like metal, radiating heat.

GO
AWAY! Rap yelled, not knowing whether he spoke the words aloud or not.

Again
the dragon reared up into the sky in shock, and this time it toppled backward.
Claws grappled air; it impacted with a concussion that shook the world and
blasted a belch of purple fire from its mouth. Boulders came crashing down from
the ridge at Rap’s back: scales and armored back plates and half a rib.
He ignored those. The live dragon was much more perilous than the dead one.

A
barrage of mental explosions seemed to pour from it, and at that range they
should have burned out Rap’s brain, but he blocked them.