DragonFire (29 page)

But there were other voices.
“I do not follow Paladin. I care nothing for Wulder. I stand alone.”

The positive voices trailed away. Kale could hear their affirmations as a backdrop to the few who protested with loud cries.

Each naysayer shouted,
“I stand alone.”

Kale’s throat hurt with the agony of finding words to persuade this stubborn faction of the dragon populace.

You stand alone. Do you know how alone that really is?

She sent out a picture of one dragon. Kale sobbed. She couldn’t control the image as she wanted. The main figure switched between a lone dragon and a lone marione. No, it was an o’rant. No, a tumanhofer.

Kale squeezed her eyes shut. She must project the picture. She tried again. One dragon—the image broke—one kimen. Did it really matter?

Look!
She cried. In her mental picture, black and evil creatures swarmed the ground, rushing over the lone figure. When the horde had passed, the figure lay as a pile of bones.

A long moment of silence passed, and then, the voices returned, loud and confident.
“I have a brother. I have a friend. My neighbor stands with me.”

Two! You think two can stand?

“I’ll watch his back. He’ll watch mine.”

See with your heart what your mind won’t.

Again the mixed-up image left Kale frustrated. She could not hold the picture of two dragons overcome by the wicked stampeding beasts. The evil devoured a flickering array of the high races as well as the dragons. Always two figures in the scene and never a survivor.

But Kale’s assignment was to speak to the dragons, and she wanted them to see themselves in this peril. She didn’t think they would fight for anyone but themselves.

Again the awed silence pulsed through a moment. Kale felt the petulant dragons throw off their dread, denying the possibility. Abruptly her mind filled with voices, but this time an edge of desperation crept into the words the dragons forced to sound assured.
“We can fly. We can hide. We can run. There are many of us. We must flee. But there are many of us. We must hide.”

This time Kale didn’t bother to try to hold the central figures to that of dragons. She worked to make the image clear as a black mass chased down, pulled out of cracks, and smothered anyone who tried to withstand or flee the attack.

“You’ve done it, Kale.” Her father’s voice drew her back from a very cold place. She lay in his lap. One of his arms cradled her. One hand stroked her face. “You’ve reached the dragons, Kale. And you did more. Every citizen of Amara who has had any allegiance to Wulder also heard your plea. Each saw the images you sent as if you put that person in the picture.”

He squeezed her to his chest and kissed her forehead. “You’ve done more than I imagined you could.”

She felt droplets splash on her cheeks.

Her father wiped away his tears from her face. “You must rest.”

“I’m all right.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, just tired.”

“Try to summon Gymn, or Metta, or Ardeo. Summon just one of your dragons.”

He waited.

“I can’t.” She struggled to sit up. Her body did not cooperate. She returned to a limp rag-doll state in her father’s lap. “Help me.”

“I can’t call the dragons for you.”

“Then help me sit.”

With her father’s aid, she brought her head up and rested her back against his chest.

Her muscles refused to hold her. She started to slide to one side. Her father repositioned her in a more stable spot with his arm around her.

She blinked back tears. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re exhausted, but you’re young. Soon, physically, you will be as strong as ever.”

“Physically?”

“You’ve exhausted your talent, Kale, and I don’t know if that will return.”

         
45
         

W
HO
I
S
THE
E
NEMY
?

Kale wore a belt that would help keep her in the saddle. She thought it unnecessary, but Sir Kemry insisted. She looked down from Alton’s back to her father’s worried face. “I’m all right.”

He smiled and winked. Then, patting Alton on his shoulder, he said, “Take her to her mother, friend. And remember she can’t hear you.”

Kale forced a brave smile on her face as the dragon spread his wings and jumped into flight. But as soon as no one could see, she let it slip. Of course she could hear the dragon’s wings beat against the air, but she couldn’t hear him mindspeak.

All six of her minor dragons were with her, but she couldn’t communicate with any of them, either. Gymn traveled in a sling under her tunic so that he would be next to her heart. She knew he was giving her more healing, but not the speedy recovery that used to come when her talent cooperated with his. The rest of the dragons tucked themselves into their pocket-dens. The eggs rested in the scarf wrapped around her waist.

Her father’s plan met with Kale’s wholehearted approval. He would organize the dragons. She would return to her mother. Kale didn’t have any talent to help her locate Lady Allerion, so she and Alton would have to set down often to ask for news and directions. That might prove to be dangerous, but Kale tried not to worry.

Father said I would be as strong as ever physically. All the training I’ve done to fight didn’t rely on my talent. I can still defend myself.

She and Alton flew north, away from the Dormanscz Mountains and over Ordray. Far below, indistinct shapes moved in mobs. They swarmed a house or barn, then ranged the open spaces until they detected another target. Kale wanted to ask Alton to fly lower so she could investigate, but none of her efforts to mindspeak to the dragon resulted in anything other than frustration.

She knew that what she saw below were animals, but without a closer look she could not tell what type they were. From the way these creatures moved, she surmised that they were not ordinary wild beasts.

The agreement had been for Alton to set down outside the first town they came to. He didn’t. Kale felt certain that he had a reason, but it was a reason she had no way of understanding.

Alton picked up speed and soared to a higher elevation.

“Is something wrong?” Kale called out. But if he answered her with mindspeaking, she had no idea.

She craned her neck to scan the skies around them. Nothing in the air. She surveyed the land. Squinting at a dark smudge on the horizon before them, she realized she’d spotted a military camp.

“I bet it’s not ours.”

Alton veered to the north rather than fly directly over the encampment. The activity below stunned Kale. Troops of soldiers marched down every road. Ordinary citizens engaged in battles with swarms of strange, scrawny animals. From her position, Kale could not see that any of the farmers and villagers won against the onslaught.

She was so busy watching the tableau beneath her that she carelessly forgot to pay attention to her dragon’s body cues. Alton changed directions and flew faster. The sudden shift caught Kale off guard, and she was thankful for the belt that helped her keep from falling. She clenched her knees into the stirrups and fussed at herself.

You’ve lost your talent, not your brain. Pay attention. It doesn’t require wizardry to keep your seat on a dragon’s back.

She glanced around and saw two dark shapes in the sky.
That’s why you’ve changed directions, isn’t it, Alton? Dragons, and I’ll bet they’re fire dragons sent to kill.

She didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one.

The dragons behind became larger as they drew closer. Red scales glistened in the sun. She could see smoke curling from their nostrils. Her heart beat faster, and she willed Alton to find the strength to escape.

Alton had not lost hope. She marveled that he continued the steady beat of his wings. His long flight since dawn that morning prevented him from exerting more effort. He’d been in the air for hours. They could not speed ahead. But Kale recognized the wisdom of flying higher. The thinner air would not provide the necessary zoic to fuel the fire dragons’ flames. But the high altitude also meant Alton had more difficulty breathing.

Kale pulled one of her spears from its quiver. Most of her strength had returned before her father would allow her to make the journey. Healing had taken more than a week when, with Gymn, it should have taken less than a day. Her aim had always been good. And if the fire dragons passed beneath them, she had a good chance of striking her target.

The muscles along Alton’s shoulders quivered. Kale put her hand on his scales. If she shouted, he might hear. But would he understand? Different dragons had different capacities for understanding spoken language. Her own Celisse had lived with a farming family before coming to her. Celisse comprehended speech proficiently. Kale couldn’t encourage Alton with words, but maybe her touch would tell him she appreciated his efforts to save both their lives. She patted the purple scales and left her hand to rest on his shoulder until the fire dragons drew closer.

The enemy dragons bore no riders. Kale knew this was often the case. The dangerous beasts were pointed at their prey and told to hunt. Once the fire dragons brought their victims down, they often feasted on the flesh of the dead opponent. Of course, more civilized dragons thought this practice abominable, and the fire dragons who served Paladin held their cannibalistic cousins in disdain.

Kale waited until the distance and angle of her target lined up with what she knew would be her best chance. She heaved the spear and glowed a little with satisfaction, knowing she had made a good shot. She’d chosen the fire dragon’s weak spot under a shoulder blade, but the lance struck something first. The spear bounced off an invisible barrier two or three feet from the dragon’s flesh.

Kale gasped with outrage and drew out another javelin, determined to impale this flying beast. She aimed for a less deadly target and hurled the spear at a point exposed on the dragon’s side beneath its wing. Again, her weapon bounced off before reaching flesh.

Someone had put a protective shield around each of the dragons. Now that she realized it was there, Kale could see the markings of a wizard’s spell around the neck of her targeted dragon. The complex wizardry spoke of a seasoned expert. Probably Crim Cropper.

Her hopes soared. She could see the evidence of a spell. Her talent must be returning. Then she looked more closely and fought tears of disappointment. The markings were tattooed on the fire dragons. This would be so laborers in the wizard’s camp would know which dragons needed special care.

Alton dove between the fire dragons with such speed, Kale grabbed the horn of the saddle, clung with her knees, and prayed for safety.

What is he doing? He’s going to land? Why? To save me. Oh, Alton, I’m so sorry I cannot fight with you. I’ve nothing to offer. Isn’t there some other way?

She knew there was not.

Alton’s surprise maneuver had worked for a moment. The fire dragons flew on in confusion and then turned back. Without a rider to help with strategy, the beasts had to rely on learned tactics that did not adapt well to an unusual ploy.

Kale watched the ground rise to greet them. Alton swooped in a precise curve and zoomed along the treetops until he came to a clearing. He plopped down in the small space.

Kale did not want to endanger her mount any further. She released the belt and slid off his back. He took off before she was clear, and she fell to the ground from the rush of powerful wings.

She got to her feet and watched him rise into the sky. She knew he could maneuver more easily without a rider. He could make more dramatic turns and lead those fire dragons on a merry chase, but still she felt deserted.

“My weapons!” She stamped her foot and twirled around. “Aargh! How could I have been so stupid?” She felt at her waist and found her dagger and fingered the lumps in the scarf. Her eggs were safe. She opened her cape and called for the little dragons to emerge. They came out and examined the immediate area.

Kale explored the hollows of her moonbeam cape. With each forgotten weapon she pulled from the deep pockets, she sighed her relief.

It’s been a long time since I’ve practiced with some of these, and some I have never used. But it’s good to have something to lay my hands on if attacked.

A growl from the woods stood the hair on the back of her neck on end. She rose to her feet with a knife in each hand. The minor dragons came back to guard her. Gymn and Metta landed on her shoulders, Dibl on her head. The others perched on a branch, ready to dive at an enemy.

Out of the bushes came a lone animal. Not wolf, not bear, not mountain cat, but somehow each of these in a twisted body. With teeth bared, the beast circled Kale. She flipped her right hand knife in the air, caught it by the pointed tip, and launched it at the animal’s neck. As the blade sank in, the creature screamed and lurched backward. Shaking its head, it swiped at the injury with a front paw, knocking the blade out. Blood spurted from the wound.

The animal charged. Kale dove toward the beast but to one side, hit the ground, rolled over the bloody knife, and came up in a fighting stance with both hands wielding a blade. The minor dragons harassed the wounded animal with their caustic spit. They aimed for its eyes and its wound.

The creature turned. Kale threw another knife. The blade struck its broad side and penetrated. Again the animal screamed but did not halt. It lowered its head and ran back at Kale.

She had only a second to pull another, longer-bladed knife from her arsenal. With one arm extended down and the other up, she waited to perform the ice-tong maneuver Regidor had taught her. She almost smiled, remembering her friend’s impatience with her clumsiness, and his determination for her to master the “simple technique.” But the snarl of the injured animal did not allow her to make light of the situation. Kale hoped she had the strength to drive both knives in from opposite directions.

The beast struck as Kale sidestepped. She closed her arms around it as if giving the beast a sudden embrace, only this embrace held the bite of two blades stabbing into its ribcage. The animal fell, taking Kale to the ground with it.

She lay with one arm pinned by its weight.

Is it dead? No breathing. I don’t feel it breathing.

The minor dragons roosted in the trees nearby.

They wouldn’t be resting if this brute wasn’t dead.

She pulled herself away from the body, shaking with the aftermath of exertion and fear. She made herself retrieve her weapons, clean the blades, and put them away. Without another look at the hideous beast, she started into the forest.

I must find my way out. I need to see what’s happening with Alton.

A few feet into the tangle of underbrush convinced her she needed more protection. She willed the transformation of her clothing and then realized nothing would happen. Her talent was gone. Instead of using wizardry, she delved into the hollows of her moonbeam cape, relying on someone else’s gifts and talents. She found leather gloves with extended cuffs like gauntlets.

This will do.

She put them on and forged through the thicket. Just above her the minor dragons flew, keeping watch. From farther above she heard the screeches of the fire dragons. They battled Alton above the treetops.

Only a small patch of sky was visible through the leafy branches. Alton passed with a deadly opponent right behind him. The fire dragon breathed out a blaze that caught the small, high branches in flames. The fire leapt to surrounding trees. Kale redoubled her efforts to push through the woods.

A crash of limbs breaking warned her that one of the flying dragons had fallen. She came upon the body after another twenty minutes of pushing and shoving through tangled bushes.

Alton’s only defenses against the fire dragons were claws, teeth, and his mighty tail. This dragon had received a blow to the head. His neck twisted as if broken. Kale hurried on.