Requiem's Hope (Dawn of Dragons) (26 page)

"For Requiem I kill," she said. "For Requiem I will
become this beast. For Requi—"

An arrow whistled and slammed into her shoulder.

Alina yowled.

She beat her wings, but they felt so slow, so heavy. Pain pulsed from
her shoulder across her body, digging like insects crawling through
her veins. Her heart pounded. Haze covered her eyes. She looked up,
struggling to stay aloft, to see the young woman flying toward her.

The woman held a bow, and a quiver of arrows hung across her back.
She wore a cotton tunic, a fur cloak, and patches of bronze armor.
She rode upon a buzzing insect as large as a dragon, its many eyes
burning with inner flame. The strangest thing about the woman,
however, was not the demon she rode but her face. Stitches surrounded
it, as if she wore a mask of skin. She flew toward Alina, nocking
another arrow.

"Fly to me, reptile!" the woman called down to her. "I
am Ciana, Slayer of Dragons. I wear a new face after the fire of
Requiem burned me. Now I live to see your kingdom fall."

She fired a second arrow.

Alina tried to dodge the missile, but the first arrow still blazed in
her shoulder; she thought that poison covered its head. She managed
to flap her wings once, but she only rose a few feet. The second
arrow drove into her leg, and new pain exploded through Alina, and
she dipped a dozen feet in the sky.

She managed to stay afloat through sheer willpower. Tears in her
eyes, Alina looked up at the young woman. Ciana hovered above in the
haze, riding her buzzing insect.

"You don't have to do this, child!" Alina said. "You
don't have to fight for him. You don't have to fly with evil. You—"

Ciana fired a third arrow.

It slammed into Alina's neck.

Poison flowed through her, the world spun, and Alina fell from the
sky.

She crashed against one demon, tumbled over him, flapped her wings
once, then slammed into the mountainside. The arrows in her body
snapped. The shock knocked the magic out of her. She shrank, taking
human form again, and lay moaning upon the mountain in her druid
robes. Her blood stained the lavender fabric.

Before Alina could rise, the demonic insect swooped toward her, wings
buzzing, eyes spinning. Wreathed in firelight, Ciana leaped from the
saddle, landed gracefully upon the mountain, and held a sword to
Alina's neck.

Alina froze, staring up at the woman.

Ciana trembled, and her lips peeled back into a snarl. Her eyes
burned and leaked tears. "Where is Tanin, the creature who lied
to me, who tried to sneak into my bed?" Her tears splashed down,
and her sword shook. "Where is Jeid, the King of Reptiles, the
one who burned me?"

Such pain in her.
Alina winced.
Such grief, such rage.
She had never seen a child so lost, so broken.

"We never meant to hurt you, child." Alina pushed herself
onto her elbows, her blood still trickling. "I'm so sorry for
how you suffered. Let me help you. Let me pray for you. I can heal
the pain inside you, can—"

Ciana drove down her sword, piercing Alina's thigh.

Blood spurted and Alina screamed.

"You will be silent, creature!" Ciana twisted the blade.
"All you creatures do is lie. You took my face. You made me
somebody else. You will all die here this night, and I will laugh and
spit upon your graves."

Alina grimaced, crying out in pain, the sword in her leg. "Listen
to me, Ciana. You don't have to fall to evil. Look above you. Look at
the demons that cover the sky, that spread across the world. Is this
what you fight for? A world of demons?" She reached up a shaky
hand. "You need not do this. You can find another way. You can
be forgiven."

Tears streamed down Ciana's cheeks, collecting on her new face's
stitches like dew on cobwebs. "It's too late for me. Too late.
When Jeid burned me, he burned all compassion from my soul. When he
took my face, he took my heart too. And now I will do the same to
you." Ciana knelt, driving her knee into Alina's belly. She
tugged the sword free from Alina's thigh and brought it to her face.
"Now I take your face. I will peel it off, creature, and leave
you alive and screaming."

Alina tried to summon her magic, to become a dragon again, but she
had lost too much blood. More blood was flowing from her thigh; she
thought an artery was cut. Poison from the arrows still flowed
through her. Her magic eluded her, and she could only raise her arms
weakly, uselessly trying to shove Ciana off.

The blade pierced the skin under her ear.

"You made me do this," Ciana said, trembling. "You
made me who I am."

She moved the blade, cutting a line from Alina's ear down to her
chin.

Her blood dripped, and Alina tried to rise but could not, and she
cried out to her stars, but she could not see their light, only the
face of her enemy, a face stitched onto a broken soul.

My own soul will rise,
Alina thought.
My soul will fly to
the stars. If you can hear me, stars, grant me death now.

Light blazed above, but it was not starlight. Fire rained. A silver
dragon swooped and roared. The demonic insect, Ciana's mount, tried
to rise and fight, but the dragonfire crashed into it. It crumpled.

Ciana leaped to her feet, bloody sword in hand, and spun around. She
raised her arms in defense, a useless gesture. The dragon's claws
drove into her chest and emerged bloody from her back.

Lying on the mountainside, her lifeblood dripping away, Alina winced
and her heart twisted, for even now she had not craved Ciana's death.

"Alina!" The silver dragon shook his claws, sending Ciana's
corpse tumbling down the mountainside. Dorvin released his magic,
resumed human form, and knelt above Alina. "Stars damn it.
Alina! Can you hear me?"

She smiled weakly at her brother. She raised her hand and touched his
clean-shaven cheek. "Even as war burns the world, you still
shave every morning, you vain thing." Her tears flowed down to
her smile. "You're going to drive Maev crazy, but you'll make
her happy too."

"
You're
going to drive
me
crazy." He tore off
a strip of his cloak and bandaged her leg. "Talking like that,
like you're not going to be here? Hush your big mouth." Yet she
saw the dampness in his eyes, the tremble in his fingers. "Falling
down and getting wounded like that . . . Are you sure we're related?
Damn it, Alina." He pressed more cloth against the wound on her
neck. "Once this war's over, I'm going to kill you."

Her eyelids fluttered. He was too late; she knew that. She had lost
too much blood, and her pain was fading now. "I'll look after
you." Her voice was but a whisper. "I promise you, Dorvin.
Always. I will look down upon you from the stars, and I will bless
Requiem. My light will always shine with you."

His tears flowed freely. He pulled her into his arms. "I told
you to hush your mouth! You just have a few scratches on you. You're
talking as if you're dying or something." He held her close.
"I'm not going to let you die. I've always looked out for you."

"And now you'll look after Requiem." She clutched his hand.
"You are a warrior of Requiem, a defender of our people.
Remember that always. In Requiem's gauntlet, as fire rains and our
blood spills upon the mountain, I name you Eleison, an old word in a
forgotten tongue. It means mercy, and I pray now to the stars to show
mercy to Requiem, to let her rise from flame into a great kingdom of
starlight."

He held her close, whispering into her hair, begging her not to
leave, but Alina knew it was her time. This had always been her time
to die. A young child learning of the stars, a druid leading her
people to Requiem, a priestess freeing the captives of Bar Luan, a
warrior in a battle of demons—she had always been meant to travel
this path of darkness. This path led her to gates of starlight, and
Alina smiled because she could see them now, shining above—the stars
of Requiem. The Draco constellation emerged from clouds, and its
light warmed her, welcoming her home. And she saw them above—great
halls woven of starlight, their many columns bright, a vision of the
Requiem that would be, the Requiem those she had led here would
build.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. "It's so beautiful."

Her brother held her close, and she closed her eyes. She let his
warmth comfort her, and she let a new kind of magic flow through her
and lead her down a new path.

 
 
LAIRA

Her
father laughed upon his demon. "Your friends abandon you, Laira!
The silver dragon has fled."

Laira glared and blasted fire his way, but she was down to sparks;
they scattered off his armor. Dorvin had darted off, calling for his
sister. Jeid still fought across the battlefield, surrounded by
demons. Only Laira and Maev faced the King of Eteer. The battle raged
around them, a sphere of rocs, pteros, and demons. Here, in a pocket
of smoke and fire, they fought alone.

"Fancy the left side, Laira?" Maev asked. Smoke rose
between the green dragon's teeth. "I'll take the right."

Laira beat her wings and smiled thinly. "Let's dance."

The two dragons, gold and green, charged.

Raem laughed upon his demon. Scattering what fire remained within
her, Laira flew toward her father's right flank. The king's mount
reared and lashed its claws, and Laira was forced to pull back, to
snap her teeth, to try to claw her way forward. The demon was larger
than her, a twisted thing of skin stretched across too much bone. The
demon's head was its worst deformity—it looked like a human head,
waterlogged, swollen, its eyes leaking tears. But the creature's
claws still lashed out, tipped with metal. One claw drove along
Laira's chest, shedding her blood. She screamed and clawed back,
tearing at the creature. She ripped through its skin and hit bone.
The demon barely seemed to feel the pain; it had no blood to shed.

Laira growled, rose higher, and swooped, trying to reach Raem in the
saddle. He raised his shield, and her claws clattered against the
bronze disk. He rose in the sky, knocking her back, and his demon
turned toward her, teeth snapping.

On the king's other side, Maev was attacking, but the demon's tail
was whipping madly, holding her back.

"Is this how you dance?" Raem asked, laughing. When Laira
swooped again, Raem swung his sword. The khopesh bit into Laira's
foot, and she roared in pain. The demon's tail slammed into Maev's
neck, piercing her skin; the green dragon cried out, suddenly
sounding very young, and crashed down onto the mountainside. At once
a horde of demons, massive slugs covered with white spikes, landed
upon her and began to bite. Maev flailed upon the mountain, rolling
down the slope, struggling to tear off the creatures.

Still flying, bleeding and winded, Laira tried to attack Raem again.
His swinging sword and his demon's claws held her back.

"And so we fight alone, Laira." He smiled thinly. "Everyone
has abandoned you. Your friends are gone. Your king cannot reach you.
Your mother is dead." He stroked his demon's hair. "Do you
see this creature? She was human once. I will turn you into a similar
demon."

Terror pounded through Laira. She did not fear death, but to linger
in mockery of life, never dying, always serving her father's cruelty
. . . that she could not bear. The demon wept even as it attacked;
perhaps some part of its broken mind still clung to memories of its
old self. That fear gave Laira the strength to charge again. She
slammed into Raem, snapping her teeth, raining her last sparks of
fire onto his armor.

He laughed as he fought back, cutting her. His demon's wings entwined
with her own, and for a moment they flew as one creature, some
conjoined twin, their limbs locked together. Teeth dug into Laira's
chest, and her father's sword cut her again, and they tumbled through
the sky, a ball of scales and skin and metal. The world spun madly.
Locked together, the dragon, demon, and king fell toward the
mountainside, rolled through a cave, and entered the shadowy cavern
within.

The women and children of Leatherwing and Goldtusk still stood
within. They fled from the battling beasts, scurrying into alcoves on
the walls. Locked into a ball, Laira and the demon slammed into the
great stalagmite rising in the center of the cavern. It cracked and
tipped over. Half the pillar, the throne on its crest, drove down and
slammed into the cave floor with a cloud of dust. The impact tore
Laira and the demon apart. Laira kept spinning, crashed onto the
floor, and could not rise.

Laira's wings beat, too weak to lift her back into the air. Her tail
flailed. She managed to blow a spurt of fire, but it wasn't enough to
stop her enemy. Raem hovered above her atop his demon. The creature's
wings blasted Laira with air. Raem gave a sharp, shrill whistle, and
with a flutter of insect wings, a dozen motley demons buzzed into the
cavern to join him. All hovered above Laira, leering with red eyes,
their tongues drooping. Some were furred, others feathered, and some
inverted, their exposed organs pulsing. One among them looked like a
beetle with human arms, and from each of its fingers grew a
tool—scalpels, needles, spools with thread, bone saws, and other
instruments. Laira yowled and tried to rise, but demons spat upon
her, their globs of saliva hitting her like stones, knocking her back
down onto the cave floor. Stars floated before her eyes.

"And now, Laira," Raem said, smiling down from his beast,
"your pain begins."

Dragonfire blazed.

A roar echoed across the cavern.

With a clatter of copper scales, engulfed in smoke, Jeid flew across
the chamber and barreled into the demons.

The creatures scattered. Some crashed down onto the cave floor. The
copper dragon roared, a sound that shook the cave, and the walls
undulated in the heat waves rising between the great king's teeth.
Jeid Blacksmith—King Aeternum, Lord of Requiem—blasted his fire.
The jet shrieked, blue in its center, washing over the demons and
crashing onto the cave walls. The inferno blazed across the chamber,
the sound deafening, the heat almost intolerable. Laira lay on the
floor, gazing up at the holocaust, and for a moment she saw what the
humans hunted, what Raem feared—a dragon in his full glory and
might, a beast of sunfire and fury.