Thunder o Dragon (Dragon Fires Rising Book 3), page 42
“Because they’re the only ones who know what they’re talking about,” Azerim shot back.
“Clichés!” Prince Aragu spat. “Clichés and idiocy! We’re about to be gutted slowly over a fire and she’s gabbling on about working together as a team. Forgive me if I tend a little more to the practical side, sister, but I simply must intervene before you toss us all off a cliff yourself. See what’s happened – see what you’ve allowed, N’chala? You let our sister run off with a Dragon and now her head’s filled with all these crazy, un-Human thoughts! You should have put her in her place immediately. She’s not only mad, she’s this Dragon’s pet to do with and think what he pleases. After all, it’s this vixen’s fault these Skartunese – unh!”
Blam! A body fell nearby.
By the sounds of the movement, that had been Princess Azania’s strike.
“Nice right hand, sister,” King N’chala said softly. “I’ve been waiting for that for years. Somebody drag this fool away. Meantime, I want to hear your ideas, fast – or that madwoman will have her way.”
“We’ll go out there together,” Azania said.
“That’s the last thing we should do!” Thundersong gasped. “We’ll be roasted, grilled and spat out as charcoal dust!”
“Exactly,” Everdeep agreed.
A tiny hand patted Thundersong’s neck. “My dear Dragon, allow me to explain your idea to you. All it needs is a little straightening out of this muddle in your head and in your hearts and you’ll soon see that I’m right.”
“I had an actual idea?”
“Beggars belief, doesn’t it?”
He rasped, “Princess, with all respect, speak or I really will be tempted to eat you this time.”
“Remember, I’m the rose. My thorns will only get stuck in your tongue. Now, listen closely as I explain what my Dragon meant to say.”
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, the holey gates of N’ginta Citadel swung open with an unholy groan to disgorge a close-moving phalanx of white Sea Dragons and one small, dark person of the royal persuasion. Not even Azerim had been able to persuade her to remain behind.
“This is my job. Someone has to be their eyes,” she had insisted. When he protested, she said, “Family sticks together, Azerim. You must stay here and rally the defence – that’s your duty. This is mine.”
They embraced, kissed and said a few things he might have considered unbearably soppy not too long ago. Now, he could only yearn to be able to tell Aria how much he loved her one more time. He did not care how maudlin it might sound. War, grief and loss taught a Dragon to reevaluate what was important in life; the little things, like the person seated upon his neck. He must hope against hope that this foolish idea she had unscrambled for him would not be the end of her.
He could not imagine any future without Azania.
I asked if you trust me, she said.
Scent sensing her hurt, he replied, With my life, I said, and I meant it. Here I am literally giving you my blind faith. Don’t mistake my inner fears for distrust, Princess. You are worth far more than that.
Oh. Oh, Thundersong.
They shared a mental embrace.
Chuckling self-consciously, she said, Inzashu did teach me something. Look.
After a moment, he purred in surprise as a picture blurred into being in his mind. After a few seconds, as he concentrated upon it, the image stabilised. He saw the now-familiar dark, slightly rolling desert landscape outside of N’ginta Citadel and had the disconcerting experience of someone blinking – not himself – as if darkness had smudged across his vision.
By my wings, I’m seeing through your eyes? he gasped.
Spottily, she said.
Better than a kick in the fangs, he said.
True enough. As the image stabilised, looking oddly narrow, he realised that a Human’s field of vision was very different to his own; much more restricted. Curious. There was the great machine, replete with power, and the mad want-to-be Empress taking her ease on her ten-foot throne, enjoying a light snack, by the looks of things. His view of the gloomy scene, irradiated by that sickly greenish light, bobbed up and down with the movement of his walking, making him slightly sick to the stomach. No mind. Left and right, he saw as the Princess’ gaze responded to his mental cue, came his Sea Dragon brethren, among whom he was the smallest by a fair margin.
But always the best, he read from his Rider.
Though a Dragon stood taller for such encouragement, he was still far smaller than Everdeep, leaning heavily upon Thundersong’s left shoulder as he limped along, rasping horribly because of his lung injury. Ripplesong and Farsong walked on either side of them and, beyond and behind them, he saw more muzzles, shoulders and wings of those shuffling along in formation, all touching one another as much as possible.
It must look as if they were cuddling one another for moral support.
The more pertinent fact was that not one of them could see – except for him – a number could not stand without support and two, including his half-brother Lightsong, were physically being carried along but had refused to remain behind. That would be largely due to some thunder-mouthed fellow jawing on about family, right?
Who was that idiot?
Self-talk, Dragon, his Rider said pertly.
Her gaze returned to the fore. Nahritu-N’shula stood upon the steps of her throne, goggling in clear disbelief at this rather sorry-looking, shambling posse some thirty-two Dragons strong. Aye, he would not have been too impressed himself. Furthermore, megalomaniacs were notoriously tough to impress, unless it related to their sense of their own overweening brilliance. The Mage was one such creature. She simply stared at them as they approached along a lane that quickly developed between the Skartunese troops. The Terror Clan Dragons spread out behind her – keeping a respectful distance from the terrible machine, Azania’s alert mind noted. He agreed.
Thundersong scented its terrible strength, the almighty glut of power collected in that machine, and firmed his posture – as if that gesture would translate instantly into real courage. Failing that, he might pretend his hearts out.
In her vast voice, Nahritu cried, “What is this pathetic display I see crawling toward me? Do you come to grovel at my throne, begging for mercy? For I will have none of it, I tell you!”
≈Time for a song?≈ Everdeep rumbled.
Sirensong said, ≈We are Sea Dragons. We are family!≈
As his soft, impossibly deep refrain began, Thundersong sensed the joining in spirit his kin were capable of. It was the strangest sensation, like a rubbing together of souls. Nahritu warned them to stop. The Dragons marched on. She ordered the lightning rod lowered to point at them – judging by the angles, directly at his own nose, to be precise – but they did not stop. The Psyromantic Mage struck out with her mind but the combined mass of Dragons withstood the blast. Shuddering, gasping, some groaning piteously, they threw off her attack and trudged on, one paw in front of the next.
“Before I blow you all into the Lumis Ocean,” Nahritu-N’shula roared, “beware, for the city behind you lies unguarded and my daughter, the mighty Inzashu-N’shula, approaches with her new army of Dragons!” Cackling loudly, she raised her staff to point up into the city. “Poor Juggernaut, poor Aria, all those poor kin of yours you left to rot beneath the sands! I have rehabilitated them and made them mine forever! Aye, Thundersong, that is your mate you abandoned, isn’t it?”
Stay together! the Princess commanded. The rattled Sea Dragons drew closer. I’ll look – oh my stars, no, she’s right.
Through her eyes, Thundersong saw a strong flight of Dragons rising above the inner city. They could only have come through that watercourse they had discovered. This had been her plan all along.
My sister’s riding Juggernaut, his Rider lamented. What do we do, Thundersong? What now?
We do exactly as we planned, he said.
The Mage called, “Ah, you poor, lost little Dragons. Are we thinking of surrendering? Don’t bother. I have my weapon aimed right at you.”
Then, why not shoot? Why not wipe them out for good?
“I can’t wait to see you destroyed by those you love. Oh, this is almost too precious and delicious to bear.” In Azania’s sight, Nahritu licked her lips. “What now, Thundersong? Will you sing another sweet song to entertain my troops?”
Not a terrible idea, the Princess said. Now, Thundersong.
Drawing breath, he said, “All the Jabiz know the stench of your cowardice, Nahritu-N’shula, which rises around you like this green mist. By my very wings, I cannot imagine why any true Skartunese warrior would choose to follow a creature like you, one who has lied, cheated and stolen all her life and continues to do so to this day. You have no honour.”
As she screeched in anger and the Skartunese soldiers jeered, he added, “You don’t even have the courage to finish this attack yourself.”
“I will end you!” she thundered.
“Why don’t you, then? I defy you. I call you a weakling, a charlatan and a liar. I call all these men you claim to lead, slithering worms and lickers of dogs’ vomit.”
At last, this insult drew their full attention. The soldiers snapped instantly from jeering to furious hissing, the sound rising from them like waves striking the seashore. Many spat beside their boots; in the desert, a gesture of ultimate contempt.
Need to be quick, the Princess said.
Not quite over the edge yet … he called, “Poor little Nahritu-N’shula. Everyone sees how your daughter is stronger than you. She’s been using you all along. How does it feel to be deceived by your own whelp?”
“She is mine! Inzashu – attack!”
Too late.
Thundersong roared, “Sea Dragons, attack!”
They had barely taken two steps down the road when a shattering power sizzled into his chest, dead-centre. Thundersong knew he’d die. Maybe his hearts would stop. The heat was insane, the force driving him back into the wedge of Sea Dragons, who closed about him in support. He saw nothing but white for the longest time. It took every drop of courage he possessed not to fight the tremendous surge of power, but to welcome it in, to drive it through his body and immediately out into the bodies of his kin.
Alone, he would have been carbonised on the spot.
Thirty Sea Dragons barely rode it out. He sensed two of his severely wounded kin perish almost immediately but the others at the edges of their formation rotated and unleashed the weapon’s power on the armies standing around them. Why not share? Together, they absorbed the strike and were able to fire back, exactly as they had hoped might happen. For several long seconds, the desert in the Princess’ vision turned a blinding white, as if a blizzard had improbably struck. The clouds above looked like wisps, the city’s walls like faint outlines etched in glaring white beach sand. The lightning itself, he imagined, gazed upon this new phenomenon in a jealous rage.
Everdeep aimed at the Mage but, of course, nothing touched her.
Not so much five of the Terror Clan Dragons standing nearest her. In his future lair, charred statues would definitely be a feature, Thundersong decided. No painting needed. Just that rough texture of charcoal …
Brace! Azania yelled.
How are you still –
KERZAAAPP!! The machine howled as Nahritu forced it to new heights of operation. Mingled into that sound was the dreadful song of Eversong’s suffering. Their formation wavered under the brilliant, intense assault. Three more fell away and two collapsed but their brothers and sisters lifted them up.
Everdeep roared, ≈March!≈
The family stepped forward as one. Lightning spat in all directions from the formation, almost like one of his fireworks. The power mowed down huge swathes of Skartunese troops as the Psyromantic Mage refused to give quarter. She expended her power without ceasing or stinting, attacking their minds as much as their bodies but, in this, the lightning attack became their friend. When one’s brain sizzled unhappily in its own juices, there was not much thought of anything else. He had no idea how Azania focussed through the pain, but he could not.
≈Keep taking it in!≈ Sirensong bellowed. ≈Stay strong, Thundersong!≈
Suddenly, the attack guttered.
“More power!” Nahritu-N’shula screamed.
The machine whined and flashed as it clearly struggled to meet her demands.
To everyone’s shock, Eversong, still stuck in that cage, gave a great bellow of laughter. “What’s the matter with your daughter, lady?”
Nahritu-N’shula’s eyes snapped up. Thundersong’s vision swung over to the city, where a girl in golden robes sat aboard Juggernaut, who suddenly had very much of a different gleam in his eye. He and the Dragons in their flight ripped off their headgear with triumphal cries and expressions of disgust. Aria whipped out her swords. The girl gave a rascally wave and thumbed her nose at her mother.
This was a moment Thundersong knew he would never forget, not as long as he lived.
Beautiful.
At the same time, however, he scented for the emotions of their quarry for the first time. He scented what she would do before the woman even acted. To her, this was the greatest betrayal yet. Using her great staff, she vaulted aboard the machine. The lightning rod began to swing upward.
Roaring, I AM THUNDERSONG!! he pelted into a full charge, leaving the others coughing in the dust he kicked up. He spread his wings, flapping his utmost to accelerate so hard, black spots stood in front of his new vision.
No! Azania shouted in his mind. We have to stay together; that’s the plan!
Family protects, he gasped. Family gives all.
For a second, her horror and despair almost paralysed him.
Then, the Princess said, We are family.
His crashing roar blew their foe away from the machine for a second, but only for a sliver of time, for she threw out her staff and whirled about it in mid-air, reversing direction with a flare of her golden robes. Landing on the platform beside one of the coils, she cranked a lever to bring the machine in line with that faraway dot, the daughter she had dressed just like her. Princess Inzashu would never know what hit her. Juggernaut and his lethally beautiful muse must suspect the worst but they screamed down into the attack anyways.
Dragon and Rider sprang into the air.
They were one.
Together, they were more.
This time, they did not wait for Nahritu-N’shula to fire first. Instead, his mighty white fire lanced out with a sonic explosion to impel it two hundred feet in a mere breath. Fire enveloped the Mage but her form shimmered, as an egg-shaped area of protection developed instantly around her.
The machine hummed eagerly.
Call upon the storm! Azania shrieked in his mind.
Clarity speared into his mind. This was what Thundersong the Elder had meant – or if he had not meant it, he must have presciently sensed some iota of the future – for he was a creature of mountains fire and oceanic storm. Both powers ran in his blood. Moreover, he had a secret of his own, a dark, decidedly Princess-shaped weapon upon his neck, tucked in tight; she was his eyes and his focus, like the point of a spear. Her strength merged with his as his scales came alive to the presence of the storm above and a different storm below. His senses traced the forms guiding the torrents of power within the machine and, in a split second, he and his Rider made a joint decision.
They pulled all that power inward.
Twin bolts of lightning smashed into him from above and below. The coils crackled and sparked as the huge draw drained them too fast. His jaw gaped in agony at the forces he was – insane idea – trying to control. As he held fast, a relatively weak jolt from the lightning rod speared into his lower belly, jangling a very painful part of his anatomy.
GRROOOAAARRGHH!! he bellowed.
A monstrous fireball, laced with lightning, burst out of his throat.
BRAABOOM!!
The front section of the machine exploded in a ball of white flame. True to form, that entirely failed to destroy the Psyromantic Mage, who shot away to land in a smoking, yet very much alive, heap in the sand. Unfortunate.
Since his behind was still the target of the storm’s wrath, Thundersong spat a series of fireballs at her, again and again, peppering the dunes with fireworks. She simply would not die. Repeatedly, the staff swung up at the last split second to knock his attacks awry. Nahritu launched numerous smashing attacks of her own but, with Azania’s eyesight and accuracy, he picked them off with precision each time. Green fire and smoke exploded against his white-hot fireballs. Dimly, he became aware of the force under Juggernaut rolling toward them, while Everdeep, Sirensong and his kin charged past to his right flank, heading off a Terror Clan retaliation. He had no idea how the Sea Dragons knew where the enemy were until he heard their high-speed clicking and realised that they were hunting like bats or dolphins, using echo-location.
He and Azania hunted the Mage relentlessly. Several times, she tried to slip away, only for his emotional sense to pick up her location. The flurries and exchanges became more and more desperate, the stench of smoke, gasses and fire, overwhelming. His throat was raw, his chest burned with the effects of keeping up with all the fire and lightning.
Did he even have a drop of water left in his body?
Keep going, Azania panted. One more.
That was when Nahritu-N’shula went for Inzashu. They had not realised that she was so close. In a split second, the mother vanished and reappeared on Juggernaut’s back, holding a dagger to her daughter’s throat. For an instant, they all three locked gazes, as seen through his Rider’s eyes.
Then, the girl blinked and he saw her intent.
“Thundersong, no!” Inzashu screamed. He fired straight at her. The girl shrieked, “Mother!”
Thundersong wanted to blink, but it was Azania’s motion made on his behalf.
A slim dagger quivered in the older woman’s throat.
The talon dagger!
Nahritu-N’shula tried to make a motion to jerk it out but her hands did not appear to respond. She stared across the narrow space separating them in the air, her bloodless lips framing a question she was physically unable to ask – perhaps, ‘why?’
