JEID

He allowed himself only an instant of fear.

My brother attacks.

The rocs no longer fear us.

We will die under stone.

The thoughts pounded through Jeid. His fingers shook and his heart thrashed. Then he took a deep breath. He clenched his fists. He turned toward his companions.

"Laira, you stay in this cave. When I give the signal, blow fire through the exit. The rocs won't be able to enter." He unclasped his sword from his belt and handed it to her. "And take this blade. If you must race into the tunnels, you'll only fit in human form; you'll need a sword."

His voice was soft, and he worried that Laira would tremble, that her fear would overcome her. But the young woman nodded firmly. She took the short, broad sword and held it steadily. She raised her chin and stared back. "They will not enter."

This one has been fighting all her life, Jeid realized. She is perhaps the strongest among us.

He nodded and turned toward his father. The old man stared back grimly, eyes dark beneath his white brows.

"Father, hurry down the tunnel to the pantry," Jeid said. "Wait for my signal, then blow your fire too."

Jeid pointed to the two tunnels at the back of the cave. The left one led to the pantry, a hidden chamber full of their nuts, dried meats, fruits, mushrooms, and other foods for winter. The right tunnel gaped open beside it; that one dived underground, twisted under the canyon floor, and emerged into a chamber in the opposite cliff.

Eranor nodded, tossed his beard across his shoulder, and raced into the left tunnel. He vanished in the darkness.

The shrieks rose outside, louder now; the rocs were descending into the canyon. Men shouted too, crying out to find the weredragons, to flay and bugger and disembowel the creatures until they begged for death.

Damn it, Jeid thought. Stars damn it! I need Tanin and Maev here for this. Just when we need to fight, the two little buggers are away.

"Where will you go, Grizzly?" Laira asked, voice quiet.

Jeid managed a wry smile. "To cook some birds." He touched her cheek, leaned forward, and kissed her forehead. "Be strong, Laira. We will defeat them."

With that he raced into the second tunnel at the back. The passage was narrow; he had to crawl. As he moved in the darkness, his heart thudded and the sneer would not leave his lips. He was not afraid for his life, he realized. His cared not whether he lived or died. He was scared for his father. For Laira. For Requiem. The tunnel walls shook as the rocs shrieked outside.

Finally the tunnel curved sharply. He climbed a slope, emerging into a chamber that held their tools and weapons—fishing gear, blades, pelts, arrows, and sundry other items. A small opening gaped in the cliff side, looking out into the dark canyon, barely larger than his head.

"I see no weredragons, my chieftain!" rose a deep, hoarse voice outside. A roc cawed.

A second voice answered, high-pitched and twisted with cruelty. "This is the place. The reptiles are hiding here. Down into the canyon! Find them."

Jeid recognized that second voice, and a growl rose in his throat.

Zerra. My twin brother.

Wings beat, men cursed, and he heard talons clatter down against the stones outside. Jeid approached the small opening and peered outside. He could see them below, the great vultures—larger than dragons—barely fitting into the gorge. Their talons scattered stones, and their riders gazed around, hands on their bows. Last time Jeid had seen them, the tribesmen had worn fur and leather and fought with stone-tipped arrows. Tonight they wore bronze breastplates and helms, and metal tipped their arrows.

Somebody armed them, Jeid realized. That's why they no longer fear us. Somebody gave them armor and weapons . . . and sent them here.

He pulled back from the opening. An eerie silence fell. Men began to dismount and spread out across the canyon, searching. Their torches crackled.

"I see a cave!" one man cried, pointing toward the chamber where Laira hid.

"There's another cave here," said another man, pointing toward the pantry where Eranor was awaiting the signal.

"It's time," Jeid whispered.

A rope dangled above him. Jeid gripped it with both hands, clenched his jaw, and gave it a mighty tug.

For a moment nothing happened.

Jeid held his breath.

A creak rose, almost inaudible at first, then growing louder. Dust rained across the cave exit.

Then, with the sound of crashing mountains, a hundred boulders crashed down.

The avalanche slammed into the canyon, shaking the cliffs. Cracks raced across the cave walls around Jeid. Dust and shards of stone blasted into the chamber, nearly blinding him. When he peered outside, he saw the boulders rolling—some larger than men, craggy and mossy, others sharp and small.

Blood splattered the canyon.

Boulders slammed into rocs, snapping their spines, burying the birds. Men screamed. Arms reached out from the rubble. More rocs flew above, helpless to rescue their brethren.

"They're here—find them!" Zerra cried above. "Land on the boulders and into the caves."

Jeid shifted. His dragon form, bulky and long, filled the chamber, pressing up against the walls. He shoved his snout out of the exit.

"Fire!" he shouted.

He roared his flames.

The jet blasted out into the canyon, crashed against the fallen boulders, and sprayed up like red waves. Through the blaze, Jeid saw Laira and Eranor breathing their own fire from their holes, adding their jets to his.

The canyon roared, a great oven.

Tribesmen screamed.

Rocs ignited and fell.

A man ran, a living torch, and collapsed.

When Jeid had to pause for breath and their flames lowered, he beheld a ruin. Melted flesh clung to stones. Arms twitched under the rubble. One man still lived, crawling across boulders; his legs were gone, ending with trailing stumps and jutting bones, and the skin on his face had peeled off. But more rocs and riders still lived. Dozens of wings beat above, and dozens of men cried out.

"Get down there!" Zerra was screaming. The voice came from the sky above the canyon; the chieftain had not yet dared enter the gauntlet. "I don't care how much fire they blow. Get down there and dig them out!"

Jeid found himself trembling again, his scales chinking. He ground his teeth. He dug his claws into the stone beneath him. That day returned to him, the day he still dreamed of: fleeing Oldforge with fire and blood, leaving his dead wife behind.

"Turn back, Zerra!" he shouted into the gorge. "Turn back and I will spare your life. This place is forbidden to you. Enter this canyon and it will be your tomb."

He heard his twin laughing outside. "It is you, my dear brother, who is buried now. It is you who lurks in your grave. Emerge to fight me or die like a coward. I care not." Zerra emitted a horrible laugh that sounded like snapping bones. "Men! Dig into these walls, shatter these stones, and slay the maggots in their holes."

More rocs screeched and descended. Jeid growled and blew his flames again.