Requiem's Hope (Dawn of Dragons) (25 page)

The gatekeepers—those soldiers who had led Issari and Tanin
here—stood at attention. Their captain knelt and cried out, "Blessed
Abina Sin-Naharosh, Prophet of Mahazar! Before you, come to beg your
legendary mercy, stands Issari Seran, Princess of Eteer!"

"
Queen
of Eteer," Issari said, staring forward with
narrowed eyes, struggling to see the abina through the smoke.

A voice rose from ahead, high-pitched and slightly slurred. "Issari
Seran! Of course. Tales of her beauty have reached even this tower.
Let—" Coughs interrupted the words, following by a hawking
sound. "Let her step forth. Let us gaze upon the legendary
beauty of our enemy's daughter."

Issari stepped forward, waving the smoke aside, and beheld the
strangest man she had ever seen. At first, she almost thought him one
of her father's demons. The abina—or king—of Goshar was obese,
pink, and bald. He was so large she doubted he could walk or even
stand. He lounged upon many tasseled cushions, smoking from a hookah,
wearing nothing but a golden blanket upon his lap. What he lacked in
clothes he made up for in jewels; golden chains and strings of
gemstones hung around his neck, bracelets shaped as snakes with
jeweled eyes circled his wrists, and a headdress of topaz and
amethysts perched atop his glistening head. His eyebrows thrust out,
seemingly the only hair on his body, long as fingers and dyed green.
Many golden bowls spread around him, containing sweets, skewered
scorpions, and even an entire roast peacock with its bright tail
reattached.

Issari walked up toward the abina, head held high. "Merciful
Abina of Goshar! My father has abandoned the great kingdom of Eteer,
Guardian of the Coast. For many years, Eteer of the Sea and Goshar of
the Mountains have fought bitter wars. Let us unite water and rock.
I've come to forge an alliance between our kingdoms."

The obese man stared at her. Issari could not decide if his eyes were
narrowed shrewdly or simply engulfed by folds of fat. Those small,
blue eyes moved up and down her body, and finally the king sucked on
his hookah and barked a laugh. "It is told in Goshar, child,
that Eteer is overrun. That your father meddled in affairs no mortal
should, that the terror he unleashed has toppled his towers. It is
said that ragged, starving refugees of Eteer now camp outside my
walls, begging for mercy." He snorted, spraying spittle. "You
come to forge an alliance? You come as a beggar queen in exile,
pleading for a few drops of water and scraps of dry bread."

She bared her teeth and stepped closer. "The walls of Eteer are
overrun; it is true. My people have wandered the desert, and they
seek aid; that too is truth. My armies are shattered, and I cannot
even return to my palace. Yes, I am exiled. But I still have my
title. And Eteer still guards the sea. Whether its walls and towers
stand does not change that fact. Whether soldiers or demons sprawl
along the coast, that coast still leads to an empire of trade."
She took a deep breath, her fingers tingling. "I will give you
access to that sea. I will free you from your landlocked existence,
ever your bane, ever the reason Goshar languished in the shadow of
Eteer."

The abina's tongue emerged like a snake from its lair to lick his
lips. His small eyes glittered, and his fingers—each one heavy with
rings—clutched as his blanket. "Why do I need your title? Your
kingdom lies in ruin. I could muster my army, march across the
desert, and claim Eteer without your aid."

"And my people, those who survived the demon wars, would never
accept you as ruler. At every turn they would resist a tyrant; ever
would the blades of my surviving soldiers find the flesh of Goshar.
Many of those soldiers wait outside your walls, and they are still
armed, still ready to fight. Even should you claim and hold Eteer,
defeating both the nephilim who infest its streets and those
Eteerians who still survive behind its walls, you would find only a
gateway to darkness. Only the rightful ruler of Eteer can seal the
doors of the Abyss. My father has forfeited that claim; it is now
mine. Let us join our forces! The remnants of my army and the might
of yours. My claim to Eteer and your leadership. Together we will
recapture the coast, slay the children of demons, seal the Abyss . .
. and rule together."

Saliva dripped down the king's chin to land on his chest. He leaned
forward in his cushions with a sticky sound. "So you suggest a
marriage. I've offered King Raem to wed you before; he replied by
laying siege to my walls."

Issari closed her eyes for a heartbeat and took a deep breath,
steeling herself. "I offer myself to you."

She heard Tanin give a strangled sound behind her, and Issari lowered
her head. She knew that she must do this. She knew she must sacrifice
herself to save Eteer, to save her people. She would not love her
husband, but she loved Eteer, and she loved Tanin, and she loved her
people; this was how she would save them.

She caressed the amulet embedded into her hand—her mother's amulet.
I do this for our home, Mother. For our people. We are daughters
of Requiem, both of us, but so are we daughters of Eteer. And I do
this for you, Sena, for your memory, for the love I have for you, for
the love you had for our fallen home.

The obese abina slapped his hands together, jiggling his rolls of
fat. He mouth opened in a grin, and sweat dripped down his red
cheeks.

"Excellent! We shall be wed at once. Tir-Kahan! Step forth,
Tir-Kahan! I add another jewel to my treasure. This one will be the
crown of my collection."

A man stepped forward from the smoke. As large as Sin-Naharosh was,
this man was thin; he was almost skeletal, his skin stretched over
his bones. Like most Gosharians, he wore a white tunic that left half
his chest bare, and Issari could see his ribs. A thin white beard
dangled from his gaunt face, and a crown of gilded bones—they looked
like human finger bones—nested upon his head. The amulet of the
goddess Mahazar hung from his neck. The talisman was so large and
heavy, the man walked with a stoop. In his gaunt hands, Tir-Kahan
held a clay tablet engraved with cuneiform writing.

Armor clanked behind her, and Tanin approached. He leaned close and
whispered to Issari, voice urgent. "Issari, don't do this. There
are others ways. The women here . . . look at them." He held her
arm. "Let us return to the desert if we must."

The skeletal priest stepped forth, reached into a pouch, and pulled
out a writhing snake. The animal hissed, tongue darting, and
Tir-Kahan held it forth. Before Issari would react, the snake struck,
biting her neck. She let out a cry and reached to the wound; her
fingers came away bloody.

"The great goddess Mahazar has tasted the blood of Issari
Seran!" the old priest announced. He turned back toward his
abina, the lounging Sin-Naharosh, and brought the snake close to the
man's sweaty chest. The serpent struck again, biting into the flesh.
The old priest spoke louder. "Blood is mixed with blood, blessed
with the bite of the serpent. Mahazar, Queen of Snakes, Goddess of
Goshar, blesses this union. Blessed be Issari, wife of Sin-Naharosh!"

Tanin stepped closer to the king, and his hand strayed toward his
sword. His face reddened. "Wait a moment! You mean they're
married already? That's not a marriage ceremony. I refuse to—"

The king sighed and waved his hand dismissively. "Guards, drag
this man away." He puffed on his hookah. "Keep him alive
for now, but keep him out of my sight."

Soldiers stepped forth, drew their swords, and approached Tanin. The
young Vir Requis drew his own blade and snarled. "Stand back!
Stand back or I'll burn you all. I do not accept this marriage."
He sliced the air with his blade. "I warn you, stand back!"

Across the hall, the nude women gasped and chattered. Soldiers
shouted at Tanin, the priest sang prayers, and Sin-Naharosh laughed
and tossed sweets into his mouth.

Issari shouted over the din. "Do not harm my half-brother!
Sin-Naharosh, I will honor our marriage, but do not harm him! I—"
She gasped as soldiers stepped forth and grabbed her arms. "Release
me! Sin-Naharosh, what is the meaning of this?"

One soldier twisted her arm. Another kicked her behind her knee,
forcing her to kneel. She shouted as the soldiers brought forth
chains. Before she could react—before she could even summon her
magic—one soldier slapped a metal collar around her neck. Another
bound her wrists behind her back. Her magic filled her, and she tried
to shift, to become a dragon in this hall. Scales rose across her,
yet as her body began to grow, the chains and collar tightened around
her, shoving her back into human form.

"Tanin!" she cried.

He had begun to shift. Wings grew from his back. Claws lengthened
from his fingers. Before he could complete the transformation, a
soldier swung a club. The metal weapon slammed into Tanin's scaly
head with a crack. His magic left him, and Tanin fell to the floor,
only a man again. Soldiers leaped onto him, punching and kicking, and
bound his arms and legs.

"Drag him away!" Sin-Naharosh said, laughing as he chewed
his sweets. "Toss him into the dungeon." He wiped crumbs
off his chest. "Toss the girl among the others."

Issari screamed and struggled as the guards pulled her away from the
throne. Her heels dragged across the mosaic, and her chains
clattered. The other women of the hall looked at her silently, their
eyes full of pity. They lay upon tasseled cushions, on the ledges of
pools, and upon giltwood beds, nude and jeweled and scented of sweet
perfumes. For the first time, Issari saw what the hookah smoke had
previously obscured. Every woman here was chained. These were not
simply wives; they were slaves.

The voice of the gatekeeper, the man who had led Issari to the
palace, rose ahead. "What of the Eteerians outside our hall?"

Sin-Naharosh snorted, nearly invisible now behind the green smoke.
"Bring in whoever is strong enough to serve as a soldier or
slave. If you find the women attractive enough, give a few to your
men." He sucked in more smoke and coughed. "Leave the rest
outside to perish. The vultures must feed too."

Terror pounded through Issari. Her limbs trembled, her belly froze,
and her heart thrashed against her ribs. "Sin-Naharosh! You will
pay for this treachery. You will burn in the light of Taal!" She
raised her amulet, but its light seemed so dim in the smoke; it
barely shone for more than a few feet.

"Treachery? I fulfill our deal." The obese king waved smoke
aside, coughing. "I married you as you wished. And I will
conquer Eteer as you wished too. Your kingdom, like your body, are
mine."

She screamed. The guards knocked her down among the slaves, attached
her chains to a column, and walked away. Issari leaped up, tugging at
the chains, trying to free herself. The smoke flowed thicker,
engulfing her. She saw nothing but the swirling green clouds. She
heard nothing but the cruel king laugh.

 
 
ALINA

"Shine
upon me, stars of Requiem," she prayed. "This is Requiem's
birth. This is Requiem's greatest hour of need."

Tears shone in her eyes to behold the evil engulfing her. She flew
among only forty other dragons, perhaps the only children of Requiem
in the world. Before her the demons seemed endless, covering the sky,
hiding the mountainsides, hiding even the light of the stars. Did
those stars still shine upon her? Alina had spent her life worshiping
those heavenly lights, the Draco constellation that had always guided
her way. Today she could not feel that guidance. Their light had led
her here—from her tribe, to Requiem, to Bar Luan, and here to their
great battle above Two Skull Mountain—but even their light could not
pierce the darkness that had flown from the south.

"Please, my stars. Do not abandon your children."

A skeletal creature flew toward her like a dragon stripped of all
muscle and fat, beating decrepit wings stretched with brittle old
leather. Its jaws opened wide, lined with many teeth. Alina tried to
burn it, but her fire washed over the dry bones harmlessly. The
creature slammed into her, clattering, snapping its teeth, cutting
her with its claws. She screamed, her lavender scales cracking under
the onslaught. She cried for aid, but none would answer; her brother
flew ahead with Laira and Maev, and the dragons of Bar Luan were
battling their own demons. The creature's teeth drove into her wing,
and Alina shouted out to her stars.

I've never killed before. I don't know how to fight. I—

The creature's claws grabbed her throat. Her blood poured.

I am a dragon of Requiem. Today we are all warriors.

She swiped her tail, slamming it against the skeletal beast. One of
its ribs snapped, and it released her and howled. With a hoarse
shout, Alina drove forward, crashing into it, and lashed her tail
again and again. Its spine shattered, raining segments. Blowing
smoke, she grabbed the creature's neck in her claws, twisted, and
tore off its head. She tossed it down, and it slammed into another
demon—this one a slimy worm the size of a whale. She roared down her
fire, burning both severed head and the creature beneath it.

Alina growled, teeth bared, and stared from side to side at the
flying demons. "And so, with darkness around me, I will cast my
own light."

The demons flew toward her and her people. Behind her, her fellow
dragons raised their flames. Demons and dragons slammed together with
crashing fire and blood.

And Alina killed. Her teeth tore through demon hides. Her fire blazed
over creatures of nightmare. A bloated thing, its belly swinging,
buzzed toward her, and she disemboweled it with her claws. A great,
naked fowl with three necks swooped above her, beaks pecking. She
blasted it with fire, then bit into the charred meat, tugging out its
innards. A pale demon covered in spikes and hooks slammed into her,
cutting her leg, and she clawed madly, shattering its armor, cutting
the softness beneath. Blood coated her scales and teeth, and she
became a feral thing, a beast herself, a creature of retribution. The
starlight had faded and her own darkness claimed her.