Текст книги "Regent"

Автор книги: Brian Rathbone

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 17

The most courageous acts are often committed by those who believe themselves already dead.

– Merchill Valon, soldier

The Slippery Eellay on her side, groaning as if in her death throes, filling the silence left by what her captain was not saying. He looked at Catrin with horror in his eyes, and she wondered if this would be the end of the friendship they had developed. The loss of the Slippery Eelwas bad enough, but the thought of losing Kenward as a friend brought tears to Catrin's eyes. It was only a single moment in time, but it was burned into Catrin's consciousness. Immediately after, time rushed forward and there were wounded to tend.

Though there were many cuts, scrapes, and bruises, the worst wounds had been Catrin's to bear. She winced as Pelivor removed the splinters of wood from her right side. Large and small, they dug into her flesh and made every movement painful. No one left the ship, as if they feared they would drown in the lush grasses. More likely it was the dragons surrounding the ship they feared. They looked like Kyrien, only larger, older, and far less friendly. They waited, though not patiently. Their eyes urged her forward, and their hearts tugged at her. She could feel them calling to her, calling to all of them.

Eventually Pelivor had removed most of the larger splinters from Catrin's side, and both of them stepped onto the grasses and toward the largest of the dragons. He brought his head down low and swayed back and forth in a rhythmic movement. The beautiful dance captivated them. Soon the entire crew of the Slippery Eeljoined them.

"I'm sorry we crashed into your lovely valley," Catrin said.

If a dragon could smile, this one did, and there was a glint in its eye. You are ignorant, child, but that is among your strengths. This valley has been waiting for you. It was made. . for you.

Those gathered heard the words in their minds, felt the mirth and the warmth in the dragon's communication. It instantly put them all at ease, despite the fact that they had been, up until that moment, fighting for their lives. Here, in this valley, under the protection of these dragons, they were safe.

I must ask you once again to save him. You must save Kyrien.

The compelling energy, though leaving room for free will, nearly sent them all scrambling toward the sound of distant wailing. Catrin's breath caught in her throat when she heard it.

It has begun. It cannot be stopped. You must save him.

Kyrien's call was the same as when she had first heard it, all those years ago. Trapped in a cell of stone, fed and made to grow too large to get out of the entrance, he would have been left to die a horrible death had Catrin not defeated Archmaster Belegra and set Kyrien free. The memories brought physical pain, and that's when Catrin realized the large dragon was now looking her in the eye, its head hovering only a hand's width before her face. She felt the sensation of something pulling on her skin followed by wet clicks, and Catrin looked down to see splinters on her boot and the grasses around it. The pain in her body dissipated. Moving its head back and forth, the dragon captured Catrin in its gaze once again.

Be strong. You must not fail. The future of us all rests in your hands. Do not let fear stop you. Not your fear or that of another. Know that dragons and humans are not so different. We, too, are gifted and flawed. Not all of us agree about what the future holds, and Kyrien is suffering for that. Go. Save him.

Nodding, Catrin could formulate no thought beyond the need to save Kyrien, his wails once again punctuating the silence.

Go. Now.

Catrin turned and walked to the northern end of the valley with a determined stride, her purpose clear; all that was left was to find him. If his wailing continued, that would not be difficult. Only when she left the soft grasses and climbed onto the uneven granite did she realize she was alone. The rest of the crew of the Slippery Eelstood entranced, and Catrin wondered if they would ever forgive her. It was better this way, better that she go alone. At least that way she would not be responsible for their deaths. She couldn't save them, but perhaps the dragons could.

Climbing with a mixture of sadness and grim satisfaction, Catrin moved toward Kyrien. The ascent was not difficult, and for much of the way, she followed a natural ridgeline that cut through two peaks. It wasn't long until Catrin saw things she recognized, and soon the hollow mountain emerged from the fog, its zigzagging stairs clinging to it like mighty serpents, crawling out of the archways that decorated the massive rock face. It had been in one of those halls that Catrin had faced Archmaster Belegra and only barely won. Now that mountain seemed entirely abandoned, only spirits roaming the dark halls.

Kyrien's wails echoed from the valley walls, and Catrin could not pinpoint the direction from which they came. Just past the hollow mountain, she turned north, hoping she was right. She listened, straining, and in the distance, she thought she heard someone calling her name. It was faint but persistent, and as she listened closely for Kyrien, she couldn't help but hear them calling for her. The voice was Kenward's, she was almost certain. And he sounded no more calm than the last time she'd heard him. She'd hoped the dragons would keep them in the valley and guard them while she went off to help Kyrien, but it seemed fate had other plans.

Torn and wanting to go back for them, Catrin forced herself to continue, though she cried at having to choose. If she was abandoning them, it was only for their own good. She doubted any of them would see it that way, but she persevered nonetheless.

Cold wind drifted to her, and beyond the valley lay the sea. Rising out of the surf, a megalithic beast climbed into the skies. Dark shapes filled the air around it, and its surface seethed like a kicked anthill. Demons scaled the rock face in unbelievable numbers, making it look as if the mountain were breathing. Ships crowded the shoreline, and formations patrolled the waters beyond. This was a well-organized, massive, lethal attack.

Diving and attacking anything that reached the higher parts of the mountain, Kyrien fought as if he wished to die. Her heart breaking, Catrin cried out to him, but all she got back was a wash of panicked energy filled with despair.

This is not how it is supposed to be. This must not be. I cannot take you to her, or her visions will come true. I must stop this!

Catrin wanted to stop it for him, and she vowed to try, but she knew her power would be insignificant before such massive forces. The demons and giants outnumbered her by tens of thousands to one. How could she possibly hope to make any difference? She was worthless and small. Nothing she could do would stave off the inevitable. It would be far better to die in as quick a fashion as possible; that at least would end the pain, end the suffering.

The thoughts themselves were the only warning she had, but Catrin knew the thoughts were not hers, and she turned to find a small feral dragon stalking her. Low to the ground, it remained still for an instant, as if hoping Catrin wouldn't see it, but as soon as Catrin raised her hands, it lunged. Lightning crackled between them just before they collided, and both were sent sprawling. Catrin wasn't exactly certain she had attacked, and she wondered if the dragon had struck her with lightning. It seemed unlikely, since the dragon could just as easily have snapped her up in its jaws. Deep down, Catrin was relieved; feral dragons with the ability to wield Istra's power would be truly terrifying things.

Even without power, the beast hunting Catrin seemed made of fear. A single look from it caused Catrin to tremble, and its every movement forced Catrin to envision her own death. None could stand before such a dark and menacing visage and not quail. Catrin did the only thing she could think of, foolish or not: she ran.

The dragon moved in slow pursuit, seemingly unworried by Catrin's sudden flight. What looked like a tree branch swung out into the air before her, but it was no branch, and it moved to intercept her neck.

The pole arm cut the air with a sound that promised death. Only narrowly avoiding the strike, Catrin ducked low and let her momentum carry her forward, which proved to be a mistake. She'd have had a better chance facing the dragon. At least a dozen demons were clawing their way toward her, and behind them came the giants. Each one was a walking exaggeration; everything frightening about the demons only made larger. And now Catrin was tumbling into their midst. Without much thought, she compressed the air around her and released it all at once. The blast sent demons tumbling, and even the giants took a step back. The smell of ozone assaulted Catrin's nostrils, and a quickly evaporating mist hung in the air around her. The air was cool and moist, and for some reason, that meant something to Catrin, though she didn't know exactly what.

Lumbering past their fallen and disorganized comrades, the giants continued forward, single file, unable to move two abreast in the narrow valley. Taking two steps back, Catrin turned and froze. The feral dragon rose up to its full height. Even if it was a small feral dragon, it still managed to be terrifying, and Catrin considered trying her luck against the giants. When they saw the dragon, the hulking brutes stopped, seemingly ready to assault her if she tried to pass but nothing more.

Cocking its head to the side, the dragon approached, low to the ground, its head now level and weaving in a hypnotic motion. It took one more step forward then stopped, looking up. A moment later, it was backing up the ravine as quickly as it could before turning and launching back into the sky. Catrin did not want to raise her head to see, but instinct made her look, and she nearly fell down in fear. Staring back was the face of the largest feral she'd seen, one she recognized from when it chased the Slippery Eel. This massive beast radiated terror, and Catrin raised trembling hands. The dragon struck, quick as lightning, and again Kyrien intervened. Dropping from the sky and flying between Catrin and the feral, Kyrien intercepted the strike with his side, and the regent dragon cried out in pain when the feral bit down.

Unleashing all the energy she could muster, Catrin sent fire and lightning at the feral's eyes. It arched back and released Kyrien from its deadly grasp, and Kyrien rolled away. Sensing movement behind her, Catrin lashed out at the giants, again going for the eyes. One managed to block the attack with a massive wrist guard, but another was struck full in the face and went down, leaving the third stuck behind its corpse.

Raising her arms for another attack, Catrin felt the air leave her lungs as Kyrien snatched her from the ground in his powerful claws.

This should not be! What have I done!

Catrin could almost feel the tears in his words, and she wept for her friend and for the fact that she was somehow the cause of his anguish.

Moving through the darkened halls within Dragonhold, Halmsa of the Wind clan was determined to learn as much as he could from Catrin, even if he could not learn it in person. Nothing in the prophecies ever said that she had to be there to teach them how to fly dragons. It seemed strange that something that had seemed so far away when he was a child was now here before him. There had always been a silent disbelief in the back of his mind that the things foretold would come to be, and now he was humbled. He had ridden a dragon, and now he was ready to try flying one. These ferals are feisty,he thought. It seemed like a challenge worthy of the Arghast.

Feeling like a thief within the hold, Halmsa searched for a room that he knew existed, yet he had few clues to its whereabouts. He knew that holes in its walls faced open air and that it must be along the outer walls of the keep, but still it eluded him.

A deep growl sounded nearby, and even its echo challenged Halmsa's courage. He reminded himself that brave men felt fear, but they did not let it make their decisions. Keeping to the shadows, he waited until the demon passed, this one sniffing the air as it went. Halmsa moved back toward the God's Eye, a thing he would not believe existed had he not seen it himself. Moving deeper into the mountain was contrary to his mission, but there were also more places to hide. He'd found nothing leading from the great hall, and this seemed a logical next step. The fact that it moved him away from those growls reinforced the decision.

His eyes had nearly adjusted to the darkness when a dim light appeared at the end of a descending hall. Quickly he moved closer, and when he reached a junction, he found another descending hallway bathed in a ruddy glow. Halmsa nearly shouted for joy, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Moving toward the light, he found a room with two head-sized holes in the wall and beyond, open sky. Halmsa smiled despite his fear. He could not fail at this. This was the foretold time; he was certain of it. One of them had to step forward; one of them had to prove himself worthy of the title dragonrider, and Halmsa was determined to be that person.

In spite of the inherent danger of leaving his body completely unprotected in a part of the hold occupied by demons, in one of the few rooms that gets any natural light, he prayed for release from his prison of flesh. It seemed an unwise thing to hope for, but Halmsa wished with all of his heart as he stared out into the open sky. Reviewing the tales in his head, trying to remember exactly how Catrin had described astral travel, he tried not to despair. He had no access to the Cathuran chant or drums, and he chose to take another wild risk and hum a tune. Catrin had said it was the vibration that helped her and not the melody. Perhaps, he thought, the melody was there only to entertain those who must chant for hours at a time.

Humming, Halmsa stared out at the sky and strained his eyes, trying to look himself into the open air. A trickle of fear ran down his spine when he wondered if he would ever be able to return to his body should he break free of this mortal shroud.

Still humming, he closed his eyes and envisioned himself soaring through the skies, a dragon beneath him. When he opened his eyes, nothing happened. Frustrated, he sighed and sat back. That was when he remembered that Catrin had done the same; only she had smacked her head on the stone chair. Halmsa wondered if it had to be by accident and come as a surprise and exactly how hard he would have to hit his head. He was not afraid of the pain or a coward, but no man would slam his head against stone any harder than he might have to.

With his eyes open, he moved his head backward until it struck the stone lightly. Nothing happened. Doubtful but determined, he threw his head back and it hit with a solid thunk.He had been concerned he would have given away his position, cursing from the pain, but he barely felt it as he soared through the skies. Halmsa of the Wind clan could fly.

Faint sounds melded with the rush of the waterfall and the calls of birds carried on the light breeze. This place seemed impossible, yet it remained very real. The aroma of grasses mixed with mosses near the falls. The smell of moist soil and supple grasses painted the air. Sinjin even found ripe strawberries scattered throughout the grasses where the light was the brightest. The afternoon was drawing on, and the light changed to a deeper hue, making the place seem even more surreal.

With the shadows growing long and the light playing tricks with their eyes, Brother Vaughn suddenly pulled Sinjin and Trinda back behind a squat tree. Holding a finger to his lips, he slid on his belly until he could see the rolling hills beyond. "By the gods! Come out quick!"

Hesitating for only a moment, Sinjin followed Brother Vaughn and helped Trinda back to her feet. Looking annoyed, she brushed herself off, and Sinjin didn't bother to tell her that there was nothing to be brushed off. All thoughts of sarcasm left him when he spotted movement back near where they had entered the cavern. In an instant he recognized his father and Strom and Durin! He wasn't quite as pleased to see Kendra, but it mattered little. A huge grin crossed Sinjin's face, but it instantly vanished.

Hissing balls of flame leaped from the shadows and exploded, casting flaming pitch over anything nearby. Waves of what looked like gelatinous air rushed forth from another portal, and Prios's company was quickly pushed into a full retreat.

"I'm here, Dad!" Sinjin cried out, and Brother Vaughn looked as if he would scold Sinjin, but they both saw Prios look up.

Issuing a wordless roar, Prios ran toward them.

Sinjin could not stop himself. He had to get to his father, had to have his forgiveness. All of this was his fault, and he could no longer stand the guilt. Tears stung his eyes as he did what he did best.

He ran.

Stunted trees flew by in a blur. Tiny chipmunks scurried to get out of his path. And for an instant, his eyes met those of a hunting cat, which crouched in the lush grass. Every moment in time became images burned into his memory. It was as if he were in a dream. Surely none of this could be real, he thought as the demons poured onto the field like a dark stain spreading across the precious landscape. Birds filled the air, driven from the trees by the malevolent forces charging into their midst with a cloud of angry energy raging around them. Sinjin could feel the contempt if not the energy itself.

Moving out of the darkness and into the fading light came demons holding weapons of wood and iron, smoking and glowing. It took two demons to carry the barrel-like portion and another two to carry a smoking pot attached via a length of articulated wood and steel hose. Truly this enemy was evolving quickly, and Sinjin had no idea how to defend against such things. Seeing the barrel belch fire and blackness made his courage flee. Already flames threatened to claim the trees and the grasses smoldered. This alone raised Sinjin's anger, and his fury was perhaps the only thing that could conquer his fear and guilt. That these abominations would destroy a thing of such beauty was what allowed him to know that he was right, that his rage could be righteous and holy.

Watching his father cast out his energy to shield those in the line of fire gave Sinjin great pride, and he wanted nothing more than to be by his father's side, but there was still distance between them, and as the light mingled with darkness, more demons came-these like a knife between father and son. Sinjin could almost hear Brother Vaughn shouting for him to come back, and he could barely hear Trinda crying out his name, but he could not simply turn around when at a full run. It took time for him to slow himself from his fastest sprint to a speed where he could execute his turn, and by the time he did, the flames had grown far too close. He could see the eyes of the demons that wanted him dead, yet when they had him in their firing line, the flames did not come. Sinjin had expected to be engulfed in a conflagration, and instead something large and black flew at his head. Ducking, he felt only the slightest bump as something heavy but soft whizzed past.

A flash of light and fire ripped through the line of demons, and Sinjin saw his father for a moment. The look on his face terrified Sinjin, and he never wanted to see such a look again. Such pain, anguish, and desperation should be inflicted on no one. There was no more time for thought as a melon-sized fist landed on Sinjin's jaw, tossing him backward. Trinda's voice took on a shrill note. The demon grabbed him by his ankle and started pulling him back to their lines.

"No," Sinjin heard a high-pitched but firm voice say. Part of him knew it was Trinda, but she sounded different. She didn't sound afraid; she sounded angry. Sinjin's head continued to bounce along on the soft grass. "I said no!"

Trinda's command froze the battle as quickly as if the entire cavern had suddenly been filled with ice. Sinjin willed his body to move, but it seemed to care more about what Trinda wanted than what he wanted. When Trinda turned her gaze to him, he found he could move again and crawled free of the demon's grip. When he saw the demon, frozen in place, he landed a kick square on its rear and sent it toppling forward. Looking back to Trinda, he froze again. In her hands was Brother Vaughn's herald globe; it shone like the brightest comet, and Trinda's eyes were wide, her face locked in a look of shock. When she made a popping sound with her lips, Sinjin knew what was coming, and he stepped forward to catch her.

"I don't have any more," she said, and she handed Sinjin the blazing herald globe before collapsing into his arms. A moment later the demons stirred, and Sinjin took the chance to look for his father, but he couldn't find him. Then he saw Strom crouching over a body, and his heart leaped. In the next instant, he was running with Trinda over his shoulder.