Dragonforge (55 page)

Jandra sighed. This was more than she could think about at the moment, and didn’t seem to address the immediate crisis at hand. “There’s no reason dragons and men can’t share this world. We’re intelligent beings. We can talk this out. Let Pet come back with me.”

Pet nodded in agreement. “Let me take my best shot.”

Burke sat quietly, looking past Pet and Jandra toward the fireplace in the next room. He looked tired.

“Go,” he said at last. “I guess it can’t hurt to hear what the big lizard has to say.”

As they left
the house, Pet lingered until Jandra had stepped into the street. Then he turned and fixed his eyes on Shanna. He’d worked many years on the ability to communicate his innermost desires to women with a single glance. Unspoken words passed between them. He held his hand open, as if to catch something.

Shanna understood. She moved to the table where she’d placed her belt. She loosened the sheath that held her poisoned dagger. She tossed the sheathed weapon toward Pet, who snatched it from the air, then spun smoothly on his heel to follow Jandra. He stuffed the dagger into the back of his pants, beneath his filthy cloak. Jandra wouldn’t be the only one this night in command of an unseen power.

Chapter Thirty-Two:

That Strange Land to Which We Must Journey

Jandra and Pet
walked through the snow-covered night in uncomfortable silence. She found it difficult to look at him; his once fine face was now ruined. She knew she could heal him; he must also know this. But he hadn’t asked her to restore his looks. Somehow, in this most serious of times, it struck her as an insufferably trivial subject to bring up.

A driving wind cut down from the north. Pale patches of moonlight dappled the ground as the sky churned. Countless gaps in the breaking clouds opened and just as quickly closed.

In the end, it was Pet who spoke first. “I don’t think you look all that much like Ragnar.”

He said the words in an almost comforting tone, as if he sensed that the matter was weighing heavy upon her.

“I don’t either, but it’s not impossible that he’s my brother,” she said. “I guess I could use my powers to learn the truth. Compare our cells and find out how closely they match. But what if it’s true? What then?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I used to dream of having a human family. I saw the way that Ruth and Eve were so close. I envied the intimate bond they had as sisters. The way they knew that they were bound by blood to the best friend they would ever have. So what if Ragnar is my brother? I can’t possibly feel that same connection. It’s pretty obvious he loathes me. If I want the companionship of an irrational, dragon-hating fanatic, I can go hang out with Bitterwood.”

Pet laughed. “Killing Albekizan didn’t mellow him?”

“Did you know he eats the tongues of dragons?” Jandra asked. “I mean, he was preaching to me about how I shouldn’t trust sun-dragons because they eat people, and then he cuts out Blasphet’s tongue and eats it for dinner!”

“Wait, Blasphet? He killed Blasphet?”

“Oh, right. There’s a lot to fill you in on. And, just looking at your face, I’m guessing you have a lot to tell me.”

Pet cut her a glance that wasn’t exactly angry, but it let her know she’d crossed a line. He said, “If Ragnar is your brother, at least you can find out your family history. You don’t even know your family name. You might still have cousins out there, aunts and uncles and grandparents. You never know.”

“How about you, Pet?” Jandra asked. “You’ve never mentioned your family.”

He shrugged. “I’m a thoroughbred. I know my lineage. I know who sired me, and the mother I came out of. I know I have five half-brothers, six half-sisters, and two full-blood sisters. But dragon favorites don’t really have family lives. I went to live with Chakthalla when I was five. She thought young humans were cute, in the same way you might think a puppy is cute.”

“Oh,” said Jandra. She’d known this, of course. Many dragons over the years had assumed she was Vendevorex’s pet. She’d never really understood before how Pet and she shared such a common experience of being raised by dragons rather than humans.

“I’m not the most introspective person in the world,” Pet said. “But looking back, when I think about all the women I seduced, I feel really bad. I used my finely bred looks and Chakthalla’s wealth to earn the affection of tavern wenches.”

“From the way you bragged about it, I thought you saw that as sort of a privilege.”

“That was an element of it,” said Pet. “On a deeper level, I was seducing women because it made me feel human. I craved human companionship. Chakthalla would never have allowed me true love, or life-long mating. As long as I was still her faithful pet and could breed with other pets, she didn’t care about my trysts. All my little conquests were a substitute for a love I could never experience.”

Jandra felt an unexpected sympathy well up within her at these words.

“Perhaps you should try introspection more often,” she said. “It suits you.”

“Until now, when I’ve looked inside myself, I’ve found nothing there,” he said. “I was so empty, Jandra. But, fighting at Dragon Forge, I feel as if something has filled me. The human bond I could never find sleeping with the village women—I feel it, at last, with my fellow men. I would gladly give my life to save anyone in that fortress.”

“Even Ragnar?”

“Especially Ragnar,” said Pet. “He’s the will that drives our army. And Burke… Burke is the brains.”

“And what are you?”

“I’m just a soldier,” said Pet. “And it suits me.”

“Well, now you’re an ambassador,” she said. “Let’s hope you’re up to that role as well.”

Pet said nothing as the clouds above continued to roil.

Invisibly, Jandra led
Pet toward Shandrazel’s tent. There were angry shouts coming from inside. Was that Hex’s voice?

Jandra pushed aside the tent flap. The interior of the vast room was cold, but still a welcome sanctuary from the winter wind. As she dropped her invisibility, the two sun-dragons at the center of the room looked toward her. Shandrazel looked unhappy.

“Have I interrupted something?” she asked.

“Nothing important,” said Hex.

“It’s nothing important only because my brother believes that nothing is important,” said Shandrazel. “He advocates letting the world spin into chaos. He’s willing to enumerate the faults of the world, but unwilling to do a thing to fix them.”

Hex calmly said, “I’ve long maintained that anyone who thinks they have the right to fix the world is doomed to failure by their own arrogance.”

Shandrazel dismissively waved his fore-talon, as if trying to clear the air of such a preposterous utterance. “This discussion has ended. I see you’ve brought back a fellow human, Jandra. Do you plan to introduce our unexpected guest?”

Pet pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing his face.

Shandrazel’s eyes widened.

“I need no introduction, sire,” Pet said.

“How… how did you get here?” Shandrazel asked. “Are you fighting for the rebels?”

“I am,” said Pet.

“I knew you weren’t at the talks seeking genuine peace,” Shandrazel said. “All along, you were—”

“No,” Pet interrupted. “No, when I was at the talks, no man in that room had more faith in your promises than I did. I believed your fine words, Shandrazel. I believed your philosophical arguments, and I trusted that you had nothing but the best interests of mankind at heart.”

“I still do!” Shandrazel said. “I will still be the king who brings an end to kings. I will be the dragon who brings an end to human slavery and inequality.”

“You say that while commanding an army where the menial labor is performed by slaves.”

“I would have no need of an army if you humans hadn’t launched a war!” Shandrazel snapped, spittle spraying from his jaws. “The nearby river runs red with the blood of dragons you’ve slaughtered. How can there be peace in the aftermath of such an atrocity? There can be no peace until there is justice. You humans have left me with no choice but to crush your rebellion, and return Dragon Forge to the earth-dragons.”

In contrast to Shandrazel’s temper, Pet sounded very calm. “If the earth-dragons need a new city to build a new foundry, let them have the Free City. It was designed by dragons. It should house dragons.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Shandrazel said, his voice trembling. “Dragon Forge is the historic home of the earth-dragons. They won’t—”

“I’m told that Dragon Forge was built by men long ago,” said Pet. “If it’s history that drives your decisions, then you will support mankind’s claim to the town.”

Shandrazel narrowed his eyes. “You’ve stolen the city by violence.”

“Yes,” said Pet. “And dragons rule this world by force. We can argue endlessly about which act of violence spawned which act of revenge. Back in the palace, however, you said something profound. You told me that history had ended. You declared the dawn of a new age. Do you still believe those words?”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you must declare an end to history, a stopping point for old grudges, let it be today. Take your armies home and allow Dragon Forge to remain in human hands. Show us that history has ended, and that you’re willing to open a new age of peace. Show us that your fine words actually mean something.”

Jandra held her breath as she watched Shandrazel’s eyes. She couldn’t begin to fathom the thoughts racing through them. Hex, meanwhile, was standing nearby with his wings folded to his side, with a look of something approaching amusement.

Shandrazel let out his breath slowly. He said, “Pet, you’re a fugitive. With a single shout, I can summon my guards and have you bound in chains once more.”

“This is a fine threat to direct at a man who’s come to talk,” said Hex. “I can tell you learned diplomacy from our father.”

“No,” said Shandrazel. “Father would have already killed this man. Pet, you may freely leave here. Tell your fellow men in the city that there will be no further negotiations. Your position is unacceptable. Dragon Forge must be liberated. Humans took the fort in a single night. I will give you a single night to flee. Come the dawn, we shall retake Dragon Forge and slay everyone we find within its walls. Reinforcements have arrived through the day. You humans no longer enjoy the element of surprise. You shall fall.”

“You’ll let us abandon the fort?” Pet asked. “You wouldn’t hunt us down?”

“No,” said Shandrazel. “Anyone who flees and leaves behind their weapons will be spared.”

“But if we take weapons?”

“There’s no corner of my kingdom where you can hide.”

“So, it’s a kingdom again? Not a Commonwealth?”

“I misspoke,” said Shandrazel. “Our old patterns of thought die hard, I fear.”

Pet scratched his beard, as if he was thinking over Shandrazel’s offer.

He looked toward Jandra. His shoulders sagged. His eyes looked mournful as he said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Pet answered her by swinging his fist toward her. Her enhanced eyes tracked his hand as it approached her face. The knuckles were cracked, and caked with red clay. She recalled the first time he’d stroked her cheek with his soft and gentle fingers, back when they'd first met, at Chakthalla’s castle.

Then stars exploded throughout the room as the force of the blow knocked her from her feet.

She landed on the carpet, blood filling her mouth, unable to form a coherent thought. Her vision seemed softened by a veil as her head flopped toward a flurry of motion. A giant red blur lanced toward the brown-gray blob that was Pet. The red blur snapped its jaws around the human shape. Pet cried out in unintelligible agony.

Her vision cleared slightly as she tried to rise, but couldn’t. Pet had a black blade in his hand, and was lifting it again and again and driving it deep into Shandrazel’s snout. Shandrazel whipped his head and Pet went flying through the air, crashing into one of the tent poles with a back-snapping crunch. The light flickered as the lanterns that hung from the tent poles danced wildly.

A large red shape loomed over her, blotting out everything else in the room. Hex. She felt a sense of relief as the warrior-philosopher slipped his fore-talon under her back and lifted her. He rolled her over and pinned her hips to the ground beneath the tremendous weight of his hind-talons.

“What?” she mumbled through bloodied lips, not understanding what was happening.

She felt as if daggers were being driven into her neck as Hex dug his claws beneath the genie that clung there. With a jerk, he snatched the device away with a violence that tore away chunks of her hair and ripped her gown from neck to hip. The pain was unreal. The metal pulled from contact with her spine felt like her soul being ripped from her body.

Then, the weight of Hex’s hind-talons lifted.

She rolled over, still groggy, still confused by what was happening. Had Pet actually punched her? She sat up, feeling her teeth loose on the left side of her jaw. It certainly seemed as if it had really happened. She coughed and a stream of blood trickled down her throat. She wiped pink spittle from her chin.

She stared up from the red smear to see Shandrazel collapsed on the scarlet carpets, staring at her with cloudy, pain-filled eyes. Blood poured from stab wounds in his snout. A black dagger still jutted from just behind his nostrils. She crawled toward him and pulled the dagger free. Shandrazel shuddered with pain. The blade still dripped with venom.

She placed her fingers on his snout, intending to heal him. Only… She suddenly felt deaf, blind, and numb. She could see him clearly; she could hear his dying gasps, she could feel his hot blood trickling across her fingers. Still, something was wrong.

She felt the chill air touching her naked spine. She reached to touch the back of her neck and found nothing there but a sore patch from where her hair was missing.

She turned, and saw Hex standing behind her with the genie in his claws. She’d never seen it in this configuration. It looked like a long, thin, silver ribbon with a three-fingered claw at the top that had cradled the back of her skull.