Dragons Reborn (8 page)

We
wanted to find an army. Now our army, like this crown, shatters.

 
 
FIDELITY

The dragons
flew over the dark city of Nova Vita, a hundred firedrakes flying in pursuit.

Fidelity's
heart pounded, and pain drove across her body. A crossbow's quarrel dug through
her back, wind whistled through a hole in her wing, and several of her scales
had fallen in the battle, revealing bleeding flesh. The city streamed beneath
her, the firedrakes screeched behind, and her lifeblood dripped away, but
Fidelity laughed.

Cade
was free.

Her
sister flew with her once again.

"Domi,
can you keep flying?" Fidelity cried, tears in her eyes.

Her
sister flew beside her. Her scales of many colors shone in the firelight, red
and orange and yellow, though many were cracked or torn off, and she bled from the
wounds. Yet the fiery dragon stared at Fidelity fiercely, and she nodded.

"Save
your breath and fly!" Domi said. She narrowed her eyes and beat her wings
with more fervor.

They
flew onward, Fidelity leading the way across the city. When she glanced over
her shoulder, she saw the hundred firedrakes pursuing, and more kept rising
from the bowels of the Cured Temple, which now shone several miles away. At the
rear, Julian and Roen twisted backward, blasted out twin pillars of fire, then
turned forward and flew onward. A hundred jets of flame blasted in answer, most
too weak to reach them, but a few shrieked between the fleeing dragons. Cade
screamed as fire licked his tail, and Fidelity grimaced as sparks landed on her
wings. They kept flying.

"Requiem
rises!" Fidelity cried as she flew. "Hear me, people of Nova Vita. I
am a free dragon! Requiem is reborn!"

Though
wounded and bleeding, Cade grinned as he flew beside her, and he cried out to
the night. "Rise against the Temple! Remember Requiem! Remember Requiem!"

The
time for subtlety was over. The time for smuggling books in shadows had ended.
Now they roared their cry together, five dragons in the open sky.

"Remember
Requiem! Remember Requiem!"

As
they flew, hope began to rise in Fidelity. The firedrakes would not catch them.
Cade was free from his prison, and Domi was free from the gilded cage she had
surrendered herself to, no less a prison than one of bars and chains. Julian
and Roen flew with her again—the wisest man she knew and the man she loved.
And the most secret, forbidden of words now rang across the city—a cry of
hope, of rededication, of memory.

"Remember
Requiem!"

Before
her rose the city walls, and beyond them the open night—darkness, wilderness,
hope for escape, for life.

Fidelity
was only seconds away from the walls when new fire blazed.

Her
hope crashed.

Twenty
firedrakes rose from the walls, blasting flame her way. She reared in the sky.
The hundred firedrakes behind her shrieked with new vigor and stormed forth,
trapping the dragons between them and the new foes.

"Soar!"
Fidelity cried, beating her wings and shooting up toward the stars.

The
other dragons curved their flight upward. Jets of flame blasted beneath them.
One pillar of fire crashed into Roen, and the green dragon roared but kept ascending,
his scales charred and cracking with the heat. Another fiery pillar rose by
Fidelity, and she veered, knocking into Cade.

"Break
past them!" she cried. "To the wilderness, fly!"

She
could see nothing but fire, their flashing claws, their biting teeth. Beyond
them lay the open night; the dragons could vanish there into shadow. Yet the
firedrakes flew everywhere, forming a noose, shrieking, blasting flames.
Paladins rode on their backs, and arrows flew. One arrow tore through Fidelity's
wing, and she bellowed in pain. Another arrow slammed into her horn and lodged
there.

"Break
through!" She sneered and charged. "Requiem, with me!"

Fidelity
screamed as she slammed into one firedrake. She lashed her claws. She bit at
its scales. She swiped her tail, driving its spikes against the creature. The
firedrake bucked in the sky, screeching, and she bit out its throat. It tumbled
down, but an instant later three more beasts slammed into Fidelity. Their claws
tore at her scales. Their riders' arrows slammed into Fidelity, most shattering
against her scaly hide, but one drove through and cut deep.

Fidelity
lost her magic.

She
tumbled through the sky toward the city, a human again.

"Fidelity!"
Cade cried.

As
she fell, she saw her comrades fighting above, only four dragons, countless
firedrakes surrounding them. The city roofs rushed up to meet her.

Remember
Requiem.

She
clenched her jaw, summoned every last bit of strength inside her, and shifted
back into a dragon. She soared again.

Firedrakes
swooped and slammed into her. More rose from the roofs around her. She blasted
out flame.

"Fly
into darkness, Requiem!" she cried. "Break through! With me! Rally
with me!"

They
swooped, blowing out flames in a ring, to join her flight. Fidelity roared her
flames.

"Drive
your fire forward!" she shouted. "Join your flames and break through!"

She
blasted more fire. Their pillars joined with hers. The five fiery streams wove
together, forming a gushing river of heat and sound and light. Firedrakes fled
before it. The raging inferno carved open a path in the night. Ahead Fidelity
saw the shadows, the open landscape, a chance to live. She flew there. The
others flew with her.

They
shot across the walls and over the fields.

We
made it,
Fidelity thought, tears in her eyes . . . and then the great beast
swooped.

Mercy
Deus had hovered above the battle, surveying it from the cold heights. Now the
paladin swooped upon her great firedrakes, and her flames rained down. Ten
other firedrakes flew with her, forming a wall of scales and fire.

"Slay
them all!" the paladin cried. "Slay the weredragons!"

The
firedrakes all blew fire, their jets weaving together in a gushing river, a
raging inferno greater than Vir Requis fire, brighter than the sun, a flame to
burn the world.

Fidelity
reared in the sky, blinded by the light, screaming in pain.

A
shadow flew forth.

"Fly,
lassie!" the shadow cried, charging into the light. "Lead them on.
Fly!"

"Julian!"
she shouted.

The
old silver dragon charged forth . . . into the woven jets of firedrake flames.

The
dragon screamed as he burned.

Plowing
onward, Julian beat his burning wings, laughed and screamed, and scattered the flames
back onto the firedrakes. The old dragon blasted forth his own fire, a great
fountain, and the firedrakes screamed and their riders burned.

"Father!"
Roen cried.

"Julian!"
Tears filled Fidelity's eyes. She couldn't even see the silver dragon anymore,
only a burning phoenix, a beast of flame, laughing, holding back the enemy.

"Fly!"
his voice echoed . . . and was gone.

Tears
in her eyes, Fidelity flew.

"Follow
me!" she shouted. "Domi, Cade! Fly! Roen!"

They
flew past the burning firedrakes and into the open night. They streamed across
the fields. When Fidelity looked over her shoulder, she saw the great blaze of
firedrakes . . . and she saw a small, burning man plummet through the sky like
a comet. Before Julian could hit the city rooftops, three firedrakes caught
him, bit deep, and tore him apart. Limbs scattered. Fidelity's eyes watered and
she looked away.

"Father!"
Roen cried, voice torn in agony.

Fidelity
forced herself to fly near the green dragon, to glare at him, to swipe him with
her tail. "Silence! Fly silently, Roen. No fire. No sound. Fly!"

Roen's
eyes were red and damp, but he obeyed. They all swallowed their flames. They
soared higher and glided on the wind. Behind them, the firedrakes pursued,
blasting out flame, seeking them in the night.

Five
dragons had fought over the city. Four flew into the darkness, burnt, grieving.
They had cried out, bled, killed for Requiem. As they flew in shadows, they
left a light of Requiem behind, forever gone.

 
 
ROEN

My father is
gone.

They
flew through the night, four dragons where five had once flown. They flew
through despair, bleeding, burnt, grieving. Roen could barely breathe, barely
keep his wings flapping. The pain of his wounds blazed across him, and the pain
inside him twisted his belly, clutched his heart, burned his throat and eyes.
The sky itself seemed to shatter.

My
father is gone.

If
not for the firedrakes that still scanned the sky, he would have roared in
agony. If not for Fidelity, whom he had to protect, he would have turned in the
sky, charged back toward the enemy, and blasted his fire, burning them and
dying, joining his father in the afterlife.

Father
. . . Oh stars, Father.

The
others flew beside him in the darkness: Fidelity, a slim blue dragon; Cade, a
young golden dragon, his scales cracked and burnt; and Domi, just as battered
and charred, her scales a mosaic of red, orange, and yellow in every shade.

And
one dragon was missing. An old, silver dragon, his eyes bright, his smile
ready.

Julian.
My father.

The sky would always be empty.

As
they glided in silence over the hills, Roen turned his head and looked back
north. The city was distant now. The Cured Temple was only a spark of light on
the horizon like a star fallen onto the earth. Yet other lights filled the sky,
a hundred or more. Firedrakes. Their jets of fire rose and vanished every few
seconds. Their shrieks tore across the sky. They flew everywhere, spreading
out, seeking them.

Fidelity
flew up beside Roen. She gazed at him with soft, damp eyes.

"Roen
. . . I'm sorry." She let her wing brush against him.

He
gritted his jaw, eyes stinging, not wanting to shed tears in front of her. He
whispered, "Hush. Follow. We'll hide in Old Hollow."

She
nodded, eyes gleaming, and kept flying close to him. Cade and Domi flew behind,
silent on the wind. The firedrakes' flames now blazed miles away, and the
grasslands gave way to the forests. As they glided lower, the pain grew
stronger, an iciness spreading through Roen's belly.

I
return home . . . without him.

The
moon was a sliver but the stars were bright, and while Fidelity squinted in the
darkness, unable to see, Roen's dragon eyes were sharp. He saw the crest of Old
Hollow rising ahead from the forest, the tallest tree for miles, the only home
Roen had ever known. He kept tapping Fidelity with his wing, guiding her
onward, as they glided down. Domi and Cade followed, and Roen directed them to
a small clearing where he had cut down several trees, creating a smooth surface
to land on. The four dragons alighted onto the grass and shifted into human
forms.

Crickets
chirped, the forest surrounded them in black walls, and the stars shone. Directly
above glowed Issari's Star, the eye of the Draco constellation. Roen stood
still, watching the sky as if waiting for Julian to come gliding down, to tell
them he's still alive, to laugh and embrace him. But no new dragon appeared,
and Roen lowered his head.

The
others stared at him silently. Fidelity was the only one who dared approach.
She held his hand and touched his cheek.

"Roen,
I'm so sorry."

He turned
away. "Come, we go. We can't stand under open sky. The firedrakes are
still searching for us."

As
if to confirm his words, the cries of the beasts rose in the distance, and Roen
spotted a shadow across the stars. The four Vir Requis, all in human forms,
left the clearing and walked through the dark forest.

"I
can't see anything," Fidelity whispered.

Roen
held her hand. "Let me guide you."

He
could barely see a thing either. Hardly any moonlight made it past the canopy,
not with the moon so thin. He walked with his free hand held before him, making
sure they didn't slam into any trees. If he hadn't known this forest so well,
hadn't walked this path so many times, he wouldn't have found his way. But soon
he found himself walking down a slope toward a towering shadow: Old Hollow.

The
ancient oak rose in the night, stretching its canopy toward the stars. It was
the largest tree in the forest, perhaps in all the Commonwealth, rising from
the ancient crater. As the Vir Requis walked toward the tree, their feet
crunched fallen leaves.

"You'll
find rest here," Roen said, voice hard, hoarse. "Food and drink and
bandages. Follow me. It'll be crowded inside but we'll all fit."

The
others stared at him, and he saw the pity in their eyes. Roen could not bear it.
The lump swelled in his throat. He turned away and climbed the oak, moving from
branch to branch, until he reached the hidden passageway that led into the
hollow trunk. He slid down into his home. He stared at the place: walls of
polished wood, a small table, only three stools, clay bowls, a pot of the stew
his father would make . . . his father who would never cook this stew again,
never fill this home with his laughter and life.

Fidelity
slid down first from the branches, and Domi and Cade followed. All were silent,
and Fidelity's eyes shone with tears. Roen could not bear to look at them.

I
should never have left this place. Oh stars, I should never have fought in this
war.
I did this for you, Fidelity, and now he's gone, now he's gone.

He squared
his jaw. There would be time for grief later. Shelves covered the walls, piled
high with items, and Roen rummaged around until he found the bottle of spirits
and the bundle of bandages. They spent a while bandaging their wounds and burn
marks. Arrows had pierced their dragon forms. On their human bodies, the wounds
were raw and ugly like the bites of wasps. Welts from the firedrake fire
covered them; some were large and swollen and would leave scars.