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WINNING BY FORCE IS more costly than victory achieved through diplomacy and skill.
—Barabas DeGuiere, dragon rider
* * *
GETTING AWAY FROM THE hornets unscathed had Riette's heart beating fast. Taking in her surroundings with greater care, she recognized a number of melon-sized paper nests. Hornets of such size would surely pack a powerful sting.
"We must warn the Heights!" Al'Drakon said while pulling at his beard.
"It won't do no good," Tuck said without humor. "They already know we're at war and that we've already lost."
Al'Drakon shook his head, refusing to believe the truth. "There must be a way to stop this madness!"
"Perhaps," Barabas said. "But we've a better chance of finding a way here. At the least, we should cut the head from the snake and remove Argus Kind from this world. Those who survive will at least thank us for that."
It was the most Riette had ever heard Barabas say, and his speech was marginally improved after recent use. If only he would speak more often, the effects might prove less debilitating. She didn't want to admit it might not get better but did anyway. Delusions had not served her; better to understand reality and act accordingly than to survive on unrealistic hopes. There was a place in her life for hope, but that place was small and thin at the moment.
"How do we attack a man who must now be on full alert?" Al'Drakon asked. "Only a fool would be complacent now."
"Maybe," Tarin said, joining them. "But you can only watch so many things at once. Especially if you just sent the bulk of your forces overseas."
"He won't have sent all the aircraft," Tuck added. "Open air in daylight will be a nightmare."
"With all the lights, nighttime won't be much better," Al'Drakon said.
"We should search the other caverns to see if there is anything that might be of use," Tarin added.
Barabas waved for them to go while he made his way back over to Dashiq. She floated above the black stone. He placed his hands on her side and closed his eyes. Riette wasn't certain what impact the act had, whether some energy passed between them or if he somehow healed the dragon with his own intentions, but she relaxed even further. Her chin turned slightly upward, and her hooded eyes fluttered.
Tuck inspected the carriage and clucked his tongue. Al'Drakon and Tarin disappeared into one of the caverns. Emmet had moved alongside Barabas and laid his own hands on the dragon. Dashiq grew still and Riette didn't want to break the magical silence.
An occasional hornet flew past where she rested, and other insects crawled about. When air cannons erupted, no one was expecting it. They were yanked from their meditations and explorations. Tuck was the first to reach where Riette now stood. After giving him a boost to a spot away from any hornet nests, Riette had to wait in suspense.
"Oh no," Tuck said. "Berigor."
Al'Drakon heard his dragon's name and scrambled to reach the overlook. Riette extended her hand. Tarin grunted loudly while letting his leader climb on him. When he reached the top, Al'Drakon gasped but said nothing, which made Riette even more worried. Pulse jets now entered the valleys, their distinctive thumping sound resonating. More weapons fire followed. Jet engines passed overhead, and their roar grew softer. A moment later, Tuck and Al'Drakon dived from the overlook back into the valley. Claws scrabbled at the stone before digging deep. Berigor pulled himself over the promontory, and everyone within the small valley retreated. Berigor crashed into the space they had just vacated and let out a pitiful moan.
It did not require any knowledge of dragons or animals in general to know Berigor was severely wounded. No matter how nimble in the air, the valiant beast had taken repeated hits from heavy weapons. That kind of fire would have annihilated any man-made aircraft. For the moment, he remained alive. Al'Drakon ran back to his dragon, openly weeping. "You giant fool," he said. "You weren't supposed to come back for me. You were supposed to be marking dragon's blood trees right now."
He did not say the dragon would also have had an entire air fleet bearing down on him. Grief was more powerful than logic; his friend was dying. Riette had only come to see it during this journey. These people did not simply ride dragons; they were family to the creatures. There was love and respect between them and undying loyalty. It broke Riette's heart to watch someone lose the individual who meant the most to him; whether it be dragon or human, the feelings couldn't be all that different.
"I was wrong," Al'Drakon cried. "I'm sorry. I take it all back. I'm so sorry."
Barabas DeGuiere stood then. No more did he represent a traitor in Riette's mind. He was a complex and deeply private man, but she had come to see a hero's soul beneath his brusque personality. When he placed his hands on Al'Drakon's shoulders, the man sobbed. Riette didn't know what he said, but there seemed to come an agreement between them.
Dashiq glided to where Berigor lay. Slipping behind the larger dragon, she eased under his wing then under his torso. With a mighty grunt, she helped take the dragon's weight, and he moved slowly but steadily toward the ring of crystals. The closer they moved, the more powerful the updraft became. Soon the dragon supported his own weight with his outstretched wings, and Dashiq slipped out from under him.
Al'Drakon removed the small wooden box from his pocket and handed it to Barabas with tentative awe, a spark of hope visible in his eyes. Riette hoped Barabas truly did possess the magic to heal the noble beast. From within the compartments on Dashiq's saddle, Barabas withdrew two cloth-wrapped bundles. The first contained copper rods. The other he placed to one side, unopened.
Never had Riette truly seen magic in action, and she was fascinated. Barabas handed one of the stones from within the box to Emmet with some whispered words Riette could not hear. She supposed if he went to the trouble of whispering, the words weren't meant for her, but she hated not knowing.
After going over the dragon thoroughly, Barabas identified his most grievous wounds. On the dragon's side, he directed Al'Drakon to place his hands, close his eyes, and concentrate on sending healing energy to his loyal friend and companion. Barabas and Emmet focused their energy on the side of Berigor's face. Like Dashiq, Berigor had taken a hit where he was most vulnerable. The plates covering his torso distributed impacts over a much larger area, but a dragon's head and face were far more delicate.
Yellow and blue light leaked through Emmet's fingers, making Riette shade her eyes. If not for seeing it herself, she would never have believed. Even Barabas appeared surprised, watching how Emmet worked the copper with his hands and energy alone. Metal flowed like syrup, yet her brother was not burned. It took Barabas three tries to achieve the same effect, but soon they applied the metal directly to the dragon's wounded face, filling the gaps and fusing the remaining structure together. Where his eye had been, Barabas fashioned a socket. Precision and detail flowed from the man's mind, and Riette was impressed with his vision and craftsmanship. This was surely an uncommon skill.
Emmet focused on the teeth, bridging a gap in the jawline, he formed new teeth to match those remaining on the opposite side of Berigor's jaw, paying close attention to how the teeth interlocked with those in the bottom jaw. Over time, the dragon's face took shape once again. The metal glowed as if freshly polished. Dashiq's metalwork was pocked and aged in comparison.
After examining the stones he and Emmet held, Barabas nodded and moved to where Al'Drakon stood, eyes closed and meditating with all his might. Barabas spoke softly and the fierce warrior walked to Berigor's head. When he saw the metalwork, he wept once again. Riette suspected it was something few people ever witnessed. It reminded her even hardened soldiers were human. Her father had never been a fighting man before the war came; he and those like him were different. Riette had always hated those who started the wars and so callously sent regular people to their deaths. Now she had come to see some of the truth, and she wasn't certain how much more truth she wanted.
Barabas opened the bundle he'd set aside and pulled out three glass orbs. None were the size of a real dragon's eye, but they represented something important to a dragon: symmetry. "Azzakkan's Eye they're not," Barabas said. "But you may take the one you think best suits him."
Al'Drakon selected a glass sphere wordlessly and approached Berigor; the eye he'd selected closely matched the green flecks in the dragon's remaining eye. After laying one hand on Berigor's neck, he reached up and pressed in on the metal rim surrounding the empty eye socket. The segmented ring rotated outward, making the opening just a fraction larger. After placing the glass sphere into the socket and releasing it, the segmented ring retracted and held the sphere firmly in place. Somehow the eye followed him as he moved away.
"You have been too kind to me and to Berigor," Al'Drakon said, going to his knee. "I relinquish my title to you, Barabas DeGuiere. I am but Keldon Tallowborn."
"No," Barabas said. Keldon looked up at him. "I'm retired."
"You have an interesting way of spending your retirement," Al'Drakon Keldon Tallowborn said. "If we survive the next couple days, I might just join you."
"You might not have no choice," Tuck said. "If your brothers think you're dead, then surely you'll be replaced." The young man pretended no one glared at him.
"Do you think he'll live?" Al'Drakon asked, looking in that moment like a vulnerable little boy.
"For a time," Barabas said.
"It takes extra effort to keep them charged with energy," Tuck said.
Barabas nodded.
"Best not to travel too far from places like this," Tuck continued. "If you must, look for saltbark trees."
"Only ever found those in the shallows, and they don't produce leaves every year. A fickle hope."
"It's all we've got," Tuck said. "The dragon's blood trees help as well but are less potent. If you have magic . . ."
Emmet held out the two stones he carried. One was now completely opaque white, while on the other, a few clear streaks remained. Precious little magic. Reluctantly Emmet handed them back to Keldon, who placed them in the wooden box.
Needing rest, Riette moved just far enough into one of the caverns to be in the darkness. There, she propped herself up against the cold stone wall. Emmet followed and leaned up against her. Together they slept.
* * *
RIETTE WOKE WITH A start, thinking she heard a far-off boom, like thunder except it didn't come again. When she reached for him, Emmet was gone. In a panic, she rubbed her eyes and tried to find her brother. Stumbling back into the light, which was now fading to deep shades of purple, she found the carriage tossed to one side. Dashiq hovered over the black stone wearing only her war saddle, which had two seats.
"You weren't going to tell me, were you?" Riette asked, incensed. "You were just going to fly off with Tuck and leave us here?" The look on Tuck's face spoke for him. Emmet had his jacket buttoned and stood ready to mount. "Oh, no. Not again you're not. How could you think this in any way acceptable? How are you any better than—" She looked around. Berigor was gone. Al'Drakon and Tarin were gone. Barabas shrugged under her questioning gaze.
"They'll come back for us," Tuck said, not daring to meet Riette's glare.
"You knew they were going to leave without telling me," she said.
He averted his eyes.
Even though she knew he was torn between what Barabas wanted him to do and what she thought was only right, she fumed. Stealing her brother and using him like some tool of war certainly was not right. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. When she approached Dashiq, Tuck moved out of her way. It was the smartest thing she'd seen him do in a while.
Emmet looked down from the saddle. "Don't be sad," he said.
Riette stopped in her tracks. He was at peace. He was not afraid or even under duress. He was in that seat because he wanted to go. Who was she to make him stay? A fine job she'd done of keeping him safe. Already he'd proven himself in battle, which boggled Riette's mind, and she did not forget what was at stake. Everything she loved and knew would likely be destroyed in the looming invasion. It was a matter of time before the fleets converged. Riette felt utterly useless. She was just excess weight and had to be cast off. Tuck might know exactly how she felt, but she was angry and afforded him no empathy. Too many times he'd lied to her. Even if he'd thought those lies were in her best interest, it did not excuse the deceptions. Relationships were built on trust, and she could no longer trust his words.
"I'll come back and get you," Emmet said when Barabas strapped himself in. In that moment he resembled a normal boy, one who loved his sister and was going to defend her. He locked eyes with her, and she heard his voice in her mind say the words, "I love you." Expressing emotion had never been among Emmet's strong points. The rarity of those words, even if only heard in her mind, meant more to Riette than anything else. In spite of all her mistakes, all her resentments and bad judgments, he still loved her.
"There will come a time when you'll have to choose between me and him," Riette said to Tuck, locking eyes with him. "I suspect I know what you will decide."
Tuck grew smaller. "I'm sorry," he said before walking over to Dashiq and double-checking the straps.
His shoulders shaking brought no joy, satisfaction, or absolution. There was only pain and guilt. No matter how hard she tried, she wasn't finished being angry yet.
Just as the stars began to shine, Dashiq used the air currents to spiral upward over the green crystal columns. Barely a sound was made when she tucked her wings and disappeared from view. No matter how hard she tried, Riette could not find them again. They might as well have ceased to exist, and the thought nearly crushed her. Tuck offered his hand when she climbed down, and she accepted it, trying to be a bigger person. Even so, she did not smile or thank him.
"Did you see what they did to Berigor?" Tuck asked when the silence had hung too long.
Riette nodded.
"I mean, I knew the cap'n saved Dashiq, but I could never picture exactly what it was he'd done. Now I'm even more amazed the old bird still flies."
"What happened with Al'Drakon and Tarin?"
"Don't know," Tuck said. "I fell asleep and when I woke up, the cap'n was tearing the carriage off in a rage. Was it the explosion that woke you?"
Riette nodded again.
"It was out to sea," he said, pointing beyond the city. "No idea what or why."
Riette took his hand once again, also grabbing his false hand. "Will you make me a promise?"
Tuck looked as if he were trapped in front of a stampeding bull. "I . . . uh . . . maybe?"
"Do you think I am capable of handling the truth?"
Tuck nodded.
"Do you think I deserve to know the truth?"
Tuck nodded again.
"Then will you promise not to lie to me ever again?"
"I promise," Tuck said.
"Good. Now how do you feel?"
"I'm not so sure they're gonna come back for us."
It was not how Riette had expected the conversation to go.
* * *
SHADOWS MOVED THROUGH Windhold, but few were there to see. Far larger than the hollowed mountain of Ri, this hold had been carved out by dragons, and by the looks of it, big ones. Here the Zjhon had an amazing facility for storing, testing, constructing, and deploying aircraft. Steady winds consistently blew in the same direction, which made perhaps everything but landing ideal. Berigor had no trouble clinging to the mountainside. Allowing them to climb across his tail to gain entrance to the hold, he never made a sound. The repairs to his face must have given the beast newfound strength, even as they made him look like a living work of art.
Two guards moved through the assembled aircraft, the lanterns they carried making them easy to spot. While he mourned the loss of Dosser, Al'Drakon Keldon Tallowborn was fortunate to have Tarin at his side. He was part of this mission for numerous reasons, his understanding of aircraft engineering chief among them. At each jet, he loosened four connections. For prop planes, of which few remained, it took only a moment for Tarin to score two rubber lines, leaving them intact but dramatically weakened.
The process took time, and Keldon wanted nothing more than to be done with it and get rid of the cargo he carried. One wrong move, and they would both be history. Getting to the antiair guns was the riskiest but perhaps the most important part of their mission.
Only a single aircraft remained, bathed in moonlight, closer to the entrance than others, and Keldon considered leaving that one alone. Tarin moved before he could give the order. Keeping to the shadows, Keldon could only watch in silence as the guards converged on where Tarin worked. Holding his breath, Keldon prepared to attack. Tarin was no fool, though. By the time lantern light reached where he'd been working, he'd faded back into the shadows.
To get to the guns, the two Drakon would have no choice but to leave the relative safety of the shadows. This part required patience, which had not always been Keldon's strong suit. Again, the guards converged not far away. Had they been paying attention to the aircraft, they might have seen two men who were really too big to be playing hide-and-seek.
Tarin shifted and his leather boot creaked. Suddenly both guards were alert, and still Keldon had to wait. He did not want them to raise the alarm. Better to let them get as close as possible then deal with them quickly and silently. Before the guards got near enough, a bright orange flash out to sea lit up everything, followed by a reassuring boom. It was at least in some ways reassuring. He'd recognized the clay fire bombs immediately upon finding them in the caves. Such marvels were well described in the histories, even if lost to modern times. Berigor dropping one in the sea proved the weapons were still viable no matter their age. It also provided a distraction. Both guards ran to the edge of the wind channel and looked out at a sparkling orange plume with a roiling cap that jutted up from the sea. Nothing else was visible, and they argued over what it might be.
Knowing how devastating the weapons were, Tarin handled the ceramic spheres he carried with exaggerated care. While it might have saved their lives, it also took longer. Tarin was still exposed when both guards turned, without warning, in response to angry shouts at the other end of the wind channel. The explosion had everyone on edge. If only Berigor had waited just a little longer.
Standing stock still, Tarin let the guards walk past then dropped down to hide beside Keldon. One man looked back a moment later and hesitated, but the shouting grew louder, so he turned away. Tarin and Keldon crawled to the entrance, climbed outside, and clung to the mountainside, hoping their ride would get there soon. One mountain down, one to go.
* * *
EMMET SHIVERED AS DASHIQ plummeted into the deepening darkness. There would be no surprise this time. The Zjhon would have been on their guard even if not for explosions off the coast. Barabas did not claim to know what was going on, but Emmet suspected Keldon had something to do with it. It wasn't much of a plan, but they had no better options than to barge in and try to steal Argus Kind's magic. If not for Emmet's ability, none of this would be possible. He felt both pride and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. There was fear as well. He understood the danger they faced and the reasons it was still worth the risk. An attack so early in the night might not be what the Zjhon were expecting, but they were on full alert when Dashiq brought them into view. Dozens of lights converged on them with blinding heat. Shouts rose up when the dragon crested the nearest peak.
The next moment changed everything. The response from every gunner was the same; every one had Dashiq in his sights, and they all fired almost in unison. Emmet closed his eyes as the first cannon exploded in a ball of fire and sparks. A moment later, he opened his eyes again, amazed by the rolling explosion. Normally the air cannons had a specific, recognizable sound. This was a fiery inferno turning long gun barrels into twisted heaps of metal. Aircraft launched from Windhold, not far away, which did not bode well. While he and Barabas might get in, getting out could be tricky.
The planes would have to fly at night, which was difficult enough. Still, the first pulse jet rounded the corner and thumped toward them and into the spotlights. The U-shaped jets had been retrofitted to carry their own lighting systems, blinding Emmet as they approached. The pilot got off three shots before the plane started emitting white smoke. In the span of a few breaths, the U-jet spiraled into the valley below. Other planes did not make it that far. Sudden movements while dodging crashing planes initiated other failures until aircraft rained from the sky.
"That crazy fool," Barabas said with a note of what might have been pride.
Smiling, Emmet pointed toward the brightest magic. Barabas guided Dashiq using his knees, and she landed on the ledge, allowing Barabas and Emmet to dismount within the entrance. The remains of two large guns flanked the halls. In spite of the Drakon's efforts, a diesel plane rumbled through the valley and opened fire on Dashiq. The dragon pressed deeper into the hall to escape the attack.
Emmet pointed to the back of the chamber and to the right. "Magic."
Laughter echoed through the cavern. It was a deep, angry laugh that twisted Emmet's guts. From the darkness emerged a man more frightening than any of Emmet's nightmares. He wore black armor and carried a six-foot-tall axe. It was the headsman's axe, the very one he'd used to kill the previous ruler and thus become king. He wore no helm, and the glint in his eye reeked of pure evil. This was a man who cared for none but himself. Except perhaps the Al'Zjhon. Barabas had warned of this elite fighting force, but Emmet already knew them; they had hunted him before.
"Mean," he said, pointing to the woman who walked alongside Argus Kind. Her form-fitting leathers appeared to allow a wide array of movement. If Argus Kind was a battle axe, this woman was a surgical blade. There were others: the man who could contort his body to fit into small spaces and the man who watched from the shadows. Every instinct told Emmet to run, but he extended his hand to Barabas, and the big man lowered his.
Again Argus Kind laughed. "I knew you would come back, Barabas. I should have killed you more thoroughly the first time. Now I know better." He hefted his axe, making his intentions undeniably clear. "And you brought the boy. I have to thank you for that. He'll be among my most prized possessions."
Hearing himself referred to as a possession made Emmet shiver. Riette would not like that. The thought of her made him want to cry, but he remained strong. Barabas needed him. Dashiq would not fit any farther into the hall, and she turned around to face the incoming airplane. Without ever firing another shot, the plane sputtered and spiraled out of control, Keldon's sabotage perhaps late but nonetheless successful. The man wasn't so bad as people made him out to be. Emmet saw the good in almost everyone, but that was why Argus Kind and the Al'Zjhon frightened him so much; he found no good left in them. Something had hurt them all so badly and for so long, they no longer wanted to do good or be good. Destruction was as gratifying for them as creativity was for most.
In Argus Kind's hand was the source of all the magic Emmet had sensed: a glassy orb of some sort, he could not tell exactly what type. "It must have been difficult, watching your dragon slowly die. You should have let it be quick and spared the poor beast. Look at what she has become. If only she'd had this." He turned the glassy sphere to reveal the most realistic-looking artificial dragon eye Emmet had seen. Every other one he'd seen was carried by Barabas, but they did not compare to this one. The detail, the life, and the magic within this eye were far beyond any other.
Emmet realized then just how much magic Argus Kind had needed to gather to throw him off the track of the most powerful magic. No wonder he had allowed so much to be stored in one place and left at risk. It had simply been bait meant to keep anyone from taking the real prize.
"Azzakkan's Eye," Argus Kind said. "I suspect you've thought about this a time or two while she fades away—the one object that might not only heal your dragon but might actually make her better. We all know the stories, of course, but I know more. Only I took the time to trace all the legends back and had the guts to retrieve physical evidence that proves the stories were real and true. If all you're going to do is sniff at the dirt, you don't deserve the power."
"There is power enough to share with the world and do what's right," Barabas said. This brought new laughter from Argus Kind and the Al'Zjhon. "There has never been need for war."
Though it looked as if he might say something more, that was when Dashiq struck. Like a snake, her tail shot out and smacked Argus Kind across the wrist, hard enough to send Azzakkan's Eye flying and Argus Kind reeling in pain. Emmet stretched time, knowing he could not do it for long. He made it only halfway to the still airborne sphere when time began to compress again. Panting hard, Emmet tripped. For a moment, time remained stretched, and he reached out his gloved hand, grasping for a chance at salvation. Just as his fingers closed over the glassy sphere, a sleek black boot stepped on his wrist. Emmet screamed.