Dragon Rigger (51 page)

Through the twisted net, Ar could see Jael staring wide-eyed, and nodding her head, and speaking so softly that he could not hear. But her lips seemed to be saying,
Yes, you must . . .

Ar could not speak. Everyone else was set upon this insane course. But perhaps if he went along with them . . . if they could soften the barrier . . . melt the ice . . .

Perhaps they could free her. Not for death, but for life.

* * *

Surround her with heat,
Hodakai said, glowing brighter.

Ar studied the effects of their efforts so far.
We haven't the strength of that. But if we focus heat on the weak points, on the fracture lines . . .

Jael, on the inside, looked frightened but determined.

There was a brief interplay between Hodakai's shadow-figure and the inner glow of his spirit jar, then a thin beam of light shot out, striking the surface of the ice. Hodakai retained his rigger's ability to craft images—but was it enough to help?

Jael, you must try to melt it from within,
Ar whispered, formulating his own image—a fine plane of fire cutting like a scalpel at a flaw in the ice. But it was hard to distinguish the ice of the binding from the fracture zones in the net. Carefully, he thought. Carefully!

His words were punctuated by the sound of Ed tapping with his beak, testing other points in the ice.
Ruck-k-k . . . ruck-k-k . . .

The false-iffling scurried around the barrier, hissing, as it watched their efforts. It was growing frantic.
You must hurry! Rent will be coming! More heat! You must melt it all! Use your anger! Use your anger for heat!

Suddenly Ar understood what Jarvorus was talking about. He was full of anger—rage at Tar-skel, who had threatened the realm in the first place—and rage at Jarvorus, who had tricked Jael into a death sentence—and rage at himself, for allowing it to happen!

A sullen glow radiated from his fragment of the net, fueled by his anger. Outside the net, he could see Jarvorus prompting Hodakai, until a similar glow emerged from the captured rigger-spirit. Damn you! he whispered to himself. Melt—damn you! If he had to burn out the rigger-net to free her, that's what he would do.

It's working!
Jarvorus hissed, dancing close. The ice was shrinking, growing thinner around Jael. The false-iffling was quivering with excitement.
It's working!

Jael—if you can, spring, when we've melted through! he whispered silently. Be ready, Jael! She was peering out at Jarvorus now, eyes wide with fear. Be ready! Ar cried inwardly, not wanting to say it aloud, not wanting Jarvorus to know that he was hoping to free her alive.

Almost
, Jarvorus whispered. The ice flashed and evaporated from her face and head.

More!
she gasped.
I'm almost out!

Ar couldn't contain himself any longer. The ice broke away from her shoulders and arms with great clouds of steam.
JAEL!
he screamed.
BE READY TO BREAK OUT! BE READY TO FLY!

He could see her struggling to move; but her arms, though free of ice, moved as though she were caught in a thick liquid.
I can't, Ar! Don't try—please! Just let me—!

She cannot!
cried the false-iffling, seeing what Ar was intending.
She will be caught by Rent! You must let me—ah, there!

The last of the ice vanished with a sudden sparkle of heat. But there remained a glimmering light surrounding her like a forcefield, and Ar realized with a shock that they had only broken through one outer barrier. She remained bound in the spell; her eyes caught his, and in them he saw her despair and her desperation. She could move her limbs only a little; she could not flee, or move the ship at all.

That's enough,
Jarvorus said throatily. For a moment, his form seemed to flicker, now an animal, now an iffling-flame.
Jael, it is time . . . if you would have me do this!

Ar felt his breath explode in helpless protest:
NO—!

* * *

As the last of the ice melted, doubt suddenly rose up like a towering wave in Jarvorus' mind. He heard Rent's voice, with the force of a howling typhoon. KEEP THIS ONE UNTIL I ARRIVE! It felt as though his master's hand were pressing down upon him, forcing him to abide by his instructions. But he no longer wanted to please Rent. He had already decided.
I have made up my mind. I will not do what Rent wants. I cannot. I must not . . .

Only one thing enabled him to persevere, and that was the sight of Jael, the ice barrier gone, her eyes filled with fear and with a longing for freedom. Jarvorus pressed his thoughts to hers, felt her quiet desperation, and her doubt. It was killing her to wait, while her friends cried out their grief . . . and she was starting to wonder: Was Ar right? Could she escape?

Jarvorus grieved for her.
Jael,
he whispered,
Rent is surely on his way. You cannot move, you cannot escape him any other way.

The heat of Ar's and Hodakai's efforts flashed around him, sheets of fire on his body. He instinctively began slipping back into nonphysical form, but he needed the animal form to do what he must do. He flickered between the two forms, as he bounded through the softening protective layer of the binding. Ar was trying to free her physically, but there was no hope of that, and Jarvorus had no time to explain.

At last he faced Jael within the glimmering confines of the inner spell.
It is time,
he whispered, from his solid form.
Are you ready?
She nodded, and her eyes seemed terribly bright as she turned her head, presenting her neck to him.
I will be quick. Farewell, my new friend!
he hissed.

Baring his teeth, he sprang.

* * *

The world was on fire. Jael could make out nothing, except the heat pummeling the icy prison that held her. Ar had come to agree with her after all, then—and Ed, and Hodakai. She was nearly overcome with terror—she did not want to die—but even in the midst of the fire, she knew it was the only way. Hurry! she thought to the others. Before I lose my courage! Oh, Windrush—Ar—Ed—!

As the ice vanished, she felt an instant of hope—then felt the molasses resistance of the spell, and heard Jarvorus' words:
Rent is coming!
And she knew there was no other hope. She heard the others calling out to each other, but her ears were pounding and she could scarcely make out a word. Jarvorus' shadowy animal shape was bounding through the barrier. It was shimmering, now shadow now flame now shadow. And its voice was whispering in her thoughts . . .

Bow your head . . . I will be quick . . .

The tears came even as she obeyed. She averted her eyes so that she would not have to see him strike. She felt another sudden movement, and a rustling presence ballooning into her mind, crying out urgently,
Jayyyyyyyllll, awwwwk, come with youuuu . . . !
She could do nothing to stop Ed's sudden flashing movement, joining himself to her, and she couldn't help weeping with joy . . . and with grief for Ar . . .

His voice rang through the net, a terrible cry:
Jael—NOOO!

She felt a moment of terrible doubt. Ed was wailing softly within her . . .

Jarvorus sprang, and she glimpsed a flash of shadow-fire: Jarvorus' fangs, as they plunged into her throat. The pain was instantaneous, a searing fire—and the realization that it was done—then a shock of ice, and a great wave of dizziness. After the first moment, she no longer felt pain, but only the dizziness of consciousness beginning to slip away.

There were voices calling to her, but failing . . . growing inaudible. The binding spell was dissolving, fading against the sky like stars against a dawn; the ship slung to her back was falling away, drifting free; the tortured and fractured net no longer surrounded her. She was drifting away . . . the pain was gone, but so were her friends . . . she cried out to them, but they were receding . . .

She thought dimly that there must be something more to it than this . . . some way to reach to her friends
Windrush!
some way to help
Ar!
some way to help,
some way not to die! . . .
but now she could no longer even see the cavern, it was not so much like rising, as she had always imagined it, but rather
expanding,
growing thinner, thinner . . . so this was what it was like to die, whispered a voice like a faint breath of wind.

There was a vague sense of mountains around her, and beneath her, and above her, and nowhere to go, nothing and no one to save her. . . .

The life-monitor alarms clamored in the net.

Ar watched Jarvorus strike—felt Jael's passing, like a flame through his heart. He screamed,
NOOO!
But it was too late. In his effort to free her, he had only opened the way to her death.

As the binding spell dissolved, she began to grow transparent in the net. Ar cried out, helpless to stop what was happening. She wavered and vanished from the net. For an instant, she seemed to take form again on the outside, adrift in the Flux; then she flickered like a ghost, and was gone.
Jael . . . Jael . . . Jael . . . !
When he finally managed to stop shouting her name, not just aloud, but in his mind, he knew that it was over. Had he heard her crying out to him at the end? He wasn't sure.

An internal indicator flared red in the net, warning of critical life-signs in rigger-station number two. Auto-resuscitation had switched on, but was cycling without effect. Ar cursed the alarm and shut it off. He couldn't get out of the net to go to her physical aid, even if he knew of anything he could do that the auto-unit couldn't. He was helpless.

He had no chance to think about it further. The tensions in the net were shifting drastically. Jael's side of the net fluttered and closed down, like a bubble collapsing. Ar's side expanded abruptly into the space; he gasped with the sudden power rushing into the net, and realized that he had been frozen in various vectors of movement, like a wrestler caught in mid-struggle, a dozen muscles pulling in different directions. With the sudden release of power, the ship began spinning and tumbling, and he had to act frantically to neutralize his control inputs and damp down the movements.

He had control of the ship again, at least—however damaged the net. The interference between his station and Jael's was now gone, along with Jael herself. He recognized the cause of his new freedom, and shuddered with grief, which rocked the ship yet again. He knew he had to control his thoughts, and discover what forces were acting upon the ship, and understand them.

He stretched his hands into the Flux and felt the air shaking violently. It was not just his internal struggle, then; the whole cavern was shaking, and Hodakai had contracted in his jar to a tiny, dark shadow. Ar could no longer see the false-iffling.
Ed, are you with me? Hodakai? Jarvorus? WHAT'S HAPPENING?

It was all he could do to keep the ship from careening sideways into the cavern walls. There seemed to be an earthquake shaking the mountain, and he had no idea how to protect himself and the ship. He didn't know how to get out of the cavern, and anyway, he was loath to leave the place where Jael had vanished. How could he be sure she was gone for good? How could he know she was . . . dead?

Enough!
he snapped aloud.
You have a ship to bring in—control your thoughts!
And his voice caught, because what did he care about bringing in the ship, if it meant leaving his friend behind?

STOP—THINKING—!
he shouted to himself, until his voice echoed from the walls of the cavern.

Against the din, he at last heard a small voice calling out to him:
Ar! Ar, friend of Jael! The realm trembles! The One has come, and given her life! The sorcery has been shaken! Can you feel it?

Who was that? Jarvorus? Ar scanned the area and finally saw the false-iffling, crouching low in its animal form. Its eyes were wild with fear and excitement.

Is this what you intended?
Ar shouted.

It has begun!
cried the false-iffling.
She has torn the sorcery! Even the Nail of Strength cannot undo it now. But the danger is not passed!

Flee!
cried another voice, quaking with fright.
Warn the people! Go home!
It was Hodakai, dashing violently from one side of his containment to the other.
Take word! Take warning! Go!

Ar stared at him. Take warning? To whom? How? But there was no waiting for an answer, because at that moment a tremendous crack appeared in the cavern walls, forward and back, and through the floor.
My sacred word,
Ar whispered. The cavern was splitting open like an eggshell, and through the opening he could see only a roiling darkness.
Hodakai, do you know what's happening—?

But he had no chance to finish, because he and his ship were suddenly falling. . . .

* * *

Hodakai watched in astonishment as the rigger-ship, a distorted silvery shadow with the ghostly shape of a Clendornan at its prow, tumbled through the crevasse that gaped open in his cavern. It vanished, twinkling, into the abyss. The realm was shaking and he feared for his own survival, oh yes—but somehow the thing that hurt the worst was watching the only rigger-ship that he had seen in half a lifetime vanish from sight. Where was it falling to? Back to the static realm? Or to somewhere else in the Flux? It hardly mattered. Ar and the ship were gone.

And so was Jael. He had seen her spirit gather and vanish like smoke, and whether her role was done now, he couldn't guess, but one thing he knew, and that was that Rent was going to be angry. Oh yes, he would be angry. And for once, Hodakai felt no ambivalence about it. He was thrilled—and terrified, yes, but ecstatic that they had subverted the Enemy's plan. Yes, the Enemy. His enemy. There was no going back on that now.

He wished that Windrush would come, so that he could tell the dragon what he had done. But of course that was impossible. The dragons were battling for their lives at this very moment, and the fact that he and Jael and the others had just double-crossed Tar-skel here didn't mean that the dragons were going to prevail. They were all still very much in danger.