Requiem's Hope (Dawn of Dragons) (13 page)

I hurt it,
Laira thought, panting.
It can be hurt.

The head would not grow back, and Laira charged, new vigor filling
her, and slammed into the creature. They tumbled through the air,
dipped, and crashed into the stone pillar. Cracks raced across it.
The hydragrif shrieked in pain, trying to bite, to scratch, to knock
her off. Laira wouldn't release it. She grabbed another neck, tugged
the animal down, and slammed it against the cavern floor.

The chamber shook. The hydragrif whimpered. Blasting smoke through
her nostrils, Laira grabbed the creature's foot and dragged the beast
across the floor. Tribesmen fled. When she reached the pit whence the
hydragrif had emerged, she gave a mighty tug, tossing the creature
down into the shadows. It tumbled into the chasm, slammed against a
shadowy floor far below, and let out a miserable wail. When it tried
to rise again, Laira blasted flames into the pit, and it twisted and
fell back down.

A deep voice rose from above. "Slay it! Slay the beast!"

Still in dragon form, Laira raised her eyes. She saw Chieftain Oritan
still standing upon his tower, staring down at her.

She shook her head. "I defeated it! I tamed the creature. I will
not slay it."

A hundred feet above her, Oritan placed his fingers in his mouth and
gave a short, loud whistle. His ptero—the great beast with the
painted horn—detached from a wall and flew toward the chieftain.
Oritan leaped into the saddle, and man and ptero swooped. They landed
on the cave floor before Laira. The ptero stretched its wings wide
and hissed, tongue extended. The chieftain stared down from the
confines of his ape helm.

"Prove yourself strong," the chieftain said. "Kill it
now, and you'll prove yourself worthy to be my bride."

Again Laira shook her head, scattering smoke. "Strength is not
measured by killing an enemy but by showing that enemy mercy."
She released her magic and stood at the edge of the pit, a human
again. "I proved this strength to you here. Now honor your word.
Join our tribes together." She took a step closer to him. "Fight
with us."

The chieftain dismounted his ptero, approached her, and stared at her
with hard eyes, judging, scrutinizing. He towered above her; her head
didn't even reach his shoulders. Armor of bones, copper plates, and
clay covered his chest, and the bronze tips of his weapons gleamed in
the torchlight. With gruff fingers, he touched her cheek.

"You are strong, Laira of Goldtusk, Laira of Eteer . . . Laira
of Requiem." To her surprise, he knelt before her and clasped
her hand in his. "We will be wed. Our tribes will unite. And
then, Laira . . ." Fire burned in his eyes. "Then we will
slay demons together."

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and for the first time in many
days, hope kindled inside her. A shadow stirred ahead, and she looked
over Oritan's shoulder. Jeid stood there, staring at her, and no hope
filled his eyes, only cold, haunting hardness.

 
 
MAEV

"So
where the Abyss is this place, Alina?" Gliding on an air
current, Maev spat out flame. "We've been flying for days now,
and I see no damn dragons. Are you leading us on a wild mammoth
hunt?"

The lavender dragon flew beside her. A drizzle fell, and drops shone
upon her scales. The druid stared ahead into the misty distance.
Forests rolled under the rain into a green haze, and the
blue-and-gray sky roiled above like a sea. "The stars are veiled
but their whispers still guide my way. Other Vir Requis live in the
west. We will find them."

Maev twisted her jaw, not as sure. They had seen no signs of humans,
dragons, or any other intelligent life for days now. Past the
mountains, which they had crossed two days ago, rolled a forest that
seemed endless, lusher than the woods back in Requiem. The canopy was
so thick Maev couldn't see through it, and only a silver stream broke
the green carpet, coiling across the land like a great dragon's tail.
Birds flew below and distant thunder rolled. No villages. No
wandering tribes that Maev could see. And certainly no dragons.

"If you ask me, those stars are nothing but pretty lights."
Maev grunted. "Gods that can guide us? I'm guided by my heart.
That's it. Not pretty sky lights."

With a twist to that heart, she thought of her grandfather, the wise
druid Eranor. The kindly old man, fallen to the rocs, had believed in
the power of the stars. He had prayed to the Draco constellation, had
tried to get Maev to pray too. She never would.

How did those stars help you?
she thought, and her eyes stung.
They couldn't save you from the rocs. You fell while I linger on,
no beacon to guide me.

The pain clutched her like claws. She had not shared her
grandfather's faith, but she missed him so much that breathing hurt,
and her throat felt full of coals.

The blast of wings sounded from behind, and Dorvin flew up toward
them. He held a goose in his mouth, which he chomped and swallowed,
spitting out the beak. "And I follow my belly, and these geese
are delicious." He coughed feathers right onto Maev. "I
think the flying mammoth arse here is guided mainly by her loins,
which burn for me." He whistled. "Hotter than dragonfire,
they are."

She showed him her dragonfire, blasting him with a jet. He winced and
swerved, dodging the brunt of the attack, though not before she had
charred several of his scales.

"You're certainly not guided by your mind, Dorvin." Maev
growled at the boy. "You don't got one."

He rolled his eyes. "That's your insult today? You're as witty
as you are beautiful, Maev, old beast."

When she tried to roast him again, he darted off with a smile to hunt
more geese. Maev grumbled. The journey could have been pleasant if
not for that damn boy. Alina was too quiet, too mysterious, too
pious, but at least she mostly kept to herself. Dorvin was a constant
thorn in Maev's side; he couldn't last a moment without taunting her,
singing bawdy songs, telling rude jokes, or nipping at her tail.
Sometimes Maev wanted to stab him in his sleep.

"Let go!" she shouted when he grabbed her tail between his
jaws, tugging at her just to hear her yelp. She freed herself and
slapped her tail across his face, but he only grinned and flew off
again.

Maev couldn't take it anymore. She just wanted to turn back, to fly
home to the others. Even her brother, Tanin—a silly oaf of a
thing—would have been preferable company.

Maev sighed.
Where are you now, Tanin? Have you reached Eteer with
Issari? Are you safe, and are you thinking of me too?

The unspeakable seemed to be happening. Maev was missing her family.
She wished she could fly with Tanin again, even if they'd taunt each
other and often come to blows. She wished Jeid were here, her gruff
grizzly of a father, even if he'd spend the journey scolding how she
spat, cursed, and rushed headstrong into fights. She even missed
Laira; she hadn't known the young woman for long, but over the
winter, Laira had become a dear friend. The Eteerian was perhaps more
quiet, more reserved than Maev, but there was strength in her, a
strength Maev saw and respected.

Where are you now, Father? Laira? Have the demons found you yet? I
pray we meet again.

Maev took a deep breath and nodded. Despite Dorvin, and despite the
ache in her wings, she had to keep flying. She had to find others,
more dragons to blow fire and lash claws, to fight Raem and his demon
host. She would not abandon this quest.

The three dragons kept flying: the green daughter of a king, a
lavender druid with gleaming eyes, and a damn silver pest who
wouldn't stop singing. The lands rolled endlessly below, mist
floated, clouds roiled, and beams of light fell through the drizzle,
gleaming with rainbows that appeared and vanished as quickly as
winks. It was an empty land, an eternal wilderness, and Maev began to
wonder if Jeid had sent her here not to find others but to protect
her, to send her far from the demon threat.

They slept that night in the forest between the trees, maintaining
their dragon forms, as animals scurried around them and distant
wolves howled. When dawn rose, casting rays of light between the
trees, they flew again.

The clouds were parting, and the noon sun shone, when Maev saw the
city ahead and lost her breath.

She considered herself a gruff warrior, a woman with a heart of
metal, but flying here, seeing the wonder ahead, tears filled her
eyes.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

At her side, Alina wept as she flew. "The fabled kingdom of Bar
Luan. The jewel of the west."

Dorvin puffed out smoke and flicked his tail about. "Not bad.
Sure beats that shite-hole called Requiem." He only winked when
Maev glared at him.

She returned her eyes to the city ahead, inhaled deeply, and let her
eyes drink it all in. With every flap of her wings, she drew closer
and more details appeared. Great triangular buildings rose from the
trees; they reminded Maev of Laira's stories about pyramids that rose
in the deserts south of Eteer. These structures seemed as tall as
King's Column, maybe taller, and large enough to house thousands of
people. Staircases rose along their facades, leading to archways
flanked by statues of lions. Among the pyramids snaked lofty walls,
and upon their facades stared stone faces the size of houses. Cobbled
roads coiled between the trees, leading to courtyards where rose
statues of robed, bearded men with their palms pressed together.
Towers rose here too, some ten tiers tall like boxes stacked
together. As Maev drew closer, she saw people too. They bustled along
the streets, seeming as small as insects by the grand structures.
Everything was built of the same rough bricks, a painting in green
and gray, a marvel of architecture, sculpture, and civilization in
the wilderness.

"They're here," Alina said, her voice barely more than a
whisper, as if she spoke to a spirit rather than her companions.
"More Vir Requis. I sense their light in this city."

Maev began to descend. "Land among the trees. We'll walk the
rest of the distance. Safer."

Dorvin spat an ember. "The Abyss we will! I'm not walking. We
fly in like the mighty dragons we are. We roar, blow fire, and—"

Maev grabbed his snout, stifling his words, and tugged him down
toward the forest. He struggled but couldn't free himself. The three
dragons descended, crashed through the treetops, and thumped down
onto the forest floor.

"I'm not releasing you until you take human form," Maev
said, still clutching the silver dragon's snout.

Smoke puffed out from his nostrils, and he gave her a deathly glare,
but he obeyed. Back in human form, he crossed his arms, and his glare
did not wane. Maev looked at him and sighed. The damn kid looked
harmless enough—a shock of black hair, a bit of stubble on his face,
sharp eyebrows, and a face tanned bronze. Maev might—might!—have
even thought him handsome, had she not known how insufferable he was.

He slapped her scaly snout. "Well, Mammoth Arse, shift too! Back
into a human with you."

She groaned but she too resumed human form. "Slap my snout
again, and I'm going to knock your teeth so far down your throat,
they'll bite your bullocks."

He groaned. "Lovely as always, you are. Be thankful I didn't
slap your backside." He began to trudge through the forest,
heading west. "Well, come on you two! While we're young."

Alina shifted too, returning to her human form—a woman with lavender
eyes, clad in flowing druid robes, her auburn hair cascading from the
shadows of her hood. She looked around the forest, closed her eyes,
and clutched her wooden staff. "This place is dangerous."
The druid touched her amulet, a silver circle inlaid with gemstones
in the shape of the Draco constellation. "There is fear here. It
is everywhere."

Maev narrowed her eyes, and her belly turned cold. She had never seen
Alina look so frightened; the druid's face was even paler than usual,
and her hand shook around her staff. "Demons?" Maev drew
her sword. "I don't smell any."

"No." Alina shook her head. "A colder evil. Demons are
hot and red and always moving. This fear is like blue ice, frozen,
still, and very old." The druid shuddered. "Maybe even
older than the Abyss. I don't know its source, but it permeates these
trees. And it comes from the west. From Bar Luan."

The druid was trembling. Maev placed her hand on the woman's
shoulder. "Whatever evil lurks here, we'll defeat it. I've
fought many demons before; I slew dozens in Eteer. I fought Angel
herself and lived. I'm not afraid of whatever creature might be
here."

"Yet I am." Alina opened her eyes and stared at Maev; those
eyes were deeper than starry skies, blue and purple flecked with
gold. "We must be careful here. Our greatest challenge awaits
us."

Maev shuddered. She didn't fear men or demons; those were things she
could fight. But what was a blue, icy, frozen fear? How could she
fight something she didn't understand? She was about to ask more
questions when Dorvin shouted from the forest ahead.

"Bloody stars! Are you two following?" He peered from
around a tree. "Come on! By the gods of hairy feet."

After sharing a glance, Maev and Alina followed. The forest rustled
around them, and for once, Dorvin was silent. As they walked, Maev
reached into her boot, drew her hidden copper dagger, and handed it
to Alina. "Keep this."

The druid shook her head. "My faith in the stars protects me, as
does my staff. They are all the weapons I need. And I have a feeling
weapons will be of no use here." She shook her head, auburn hair
swaying. "We will need more than metal in Bar Luan."

Maev didn't know what that meant, but she kept her sword drawn. This
blade—she had forged it herself in Grizzly's old smithy—had served
her for years. Whatever enemy waited here, she swore that she could
slay it—with metal if not dragonfire.