Hush (Dragon Apocalypse) (32 page)

I once more had lips, with which I smiled.
I was alive!

Only, as I sat up, I understood that I’d merely returned to my previous phantom existence, with the illusion of life, at least. I glanced down at my spectral body, nothing but dry bones when last I’d gazed upon it, and found my limbs now sheathed with muscles. My legs still glowed with internal heat, faint flames shimmering as they cooled into a new sheath of skin.

I was briefly distracted from my rebirth by a whirlwind of activity around me. The ogress and her children were grabbing their belongings and tripping over themselves as they fled the hut. The raging bonfire that my wooden body had unleashed had thrown sparks onto the sealskins that lined the room. The oily hides now burned with ferocious energy. The icy chamber transformed into a furnace as the last ogre child slipped out the door.

“Abstemious Merchant,” Greatshadow roared from smoke that whirled up through the small chimney hole. “This was not your true body I’ve devoured!”

“Not my original body, no, but I’d gotten comfortable in it, more or less,” I said.

“I’ve breathed life once more into your spiritual body,” said Greatshadow. “I demand your physical flesh in exchange.”

“I promise to dig up my corpse the first chance I get, though it’s probably pretty ripe by now.”

“I don’t want your old shell,” said Greatshadow.

“What else do I have to offer?”

“Your daughter. Her form will contain enough of your physical essence to satisfy me. You must give her freely.”

I raised my fist to him. “Over my dead body!”

“Don’t be so ungrateful,” said Greatshadow. “I’ve given the aid you sought. You now owe me.”

“I’m not going to let you kill my daughter!”

Greatshadow chuckled. “She would be of no use to me dead.”

“Then what –”

“The Isle of Fire is my domain. I require that your daughter dwell there as she is raised.”

I ground my teeth together. What game was the dragon playing at? Did he know that’s what Infidel and I had already wanted for our daughter?

“That’s all you ask? That she grow up on the Isle of Fire?”

Greatshadow nodded.

“Have you... have you heard us speak of this?” I asked, thinking of the lanterns aboard the
Freewind
. “It’s said that you watch mankind through every flame.”

“Every candle, every lantern... and every dung-filled hearth in these frozen wastes. From cook-fires on the cliffs surrounding this bay, I watched as a ship from the Silver Isles arrived this summer. I’ve caught whispers as an alliance was formed between King Brightmoon’s men, Tarpok, and Hush’s chosen prophet, Purity. I was witness as the sky above the village tore open and Purity returned in her new body, carrying the Jagged Heart.”

“Purity’s planning to kill Glorious,” I said.

Greatshadow chuckled. “Indeed. But Purity is merely a pawn in a much larger game. There are forces at work that wish to destroy all primal dragons. It is no coincidence that the plot against Glorious follows on the heels of the attempt to slay me. Nor is Glorious the only target.”

“King Brightmoon and the Church of the Book are behind all of this,” I said.

Greatshadow’s chuckle turned into a guffaw. “The primal dragons need fear no mortal king. Were it my will, I could burn his kingdom to bare stone. The king is a mere puppet dancing on the strings of the true threat.”

I held my tongue. I couldn’t help but think of the Black Swan. She’d openly admitted to working behind the scenes to manipulate world events. Could she be the puppet master? As curious as I was to learn of the greater plot, I pushed aside my questions to focus on my most urgent desire.

“Infidel,” I said. “You’ve got to help me find her. We came here to stop the plot against Glorious. I’ve seen you create avatars to enforce your will in Commonground. Can you create an avatar from the fuel at hand to help us fight Purity?”

“If I were to openly meddle outside my recognized domain, other dragons would take notice. For now, you alone must aid your spouse. Have faith. Infidel has proven capable of protecting the world from those who seek to alter the balance of power.”

“I’ll help her however I can,” I said. “But –”

Before I could get out my next word, a thunderous
CRACK
rang out from the ice dome above me. Half a second later, the whole dome collapsed and the flames all around me were instantly snuffed. I stood amid the wreckage unharmed, my phantom body glowing faint red beneath a coat of fine ash, as if I were metal pulled fresh from a forge. This glow slowly faded, restoring my ghostly shell to its ordinary translucence. Judging from the crowd of ogres that gathered to gawk at the fallen dome, I deduced I remained invisible. None even glanced at me as I waved my hand and said, “Awk!”

My status quo as a phantom wasn’t such a horrible thing. I was free to move about again, and proceeded to do so. The burnt-hair-and-dead-fish stink of burnt seal pelts was a good incentive to move on.

Goal one: Find Infidel.

I felt for the tug of her wedding band. Nothing.

I looked down at my ring finger. My braided ring was gone, consumed by the spiritual flames Greatshadow had used to restore me.

So instead I searched for the pull of the bone-handled knife, once as powerful as gravity. I couldn’t sense it. Of course, when it had been in the spirit world with me, it had never felt like anything other than an ordinary knife. It had only affected me when it had been a bridge across dimensions, a gate between life and not-life. What had happened to it when I’d left it in Infidel’s grasp? When her spirit had fused once more with her body, had the knife been pulled back into the material world? Or had it simply tumbled from her grasp, an immaterial thing, now lost forever on the artic wind?

I flew toward the temple. The ogres were busy chopping a trench in the ice around Slor Tonn. The whale was still alive; I could see his breath as great puffs of steam from his blow hole. His wound had been stitched up and sealed beneath a poultice of oily jelly with a vibrant green hue. The ogres jumped back as a slab of ice around Slor Tonn’s head snapped loose, sending tall fountains of water jetting up through the gaps around it. The whale flopped like a fish on a bank as the water washed over it, sending further cracks through the ice. With a powerful full-body thrash, the whale pulverized the weakened ice beneath it sufficiently to open a hole. Slor Tonn slid into the frigid waters below. I wondered if he’d regain the strength to fly.

I hovered before the cliff, studying it closely. There were at least a dozen possible entrances. The lowest and largest was a cave at the level of the bay; the ice continued inside for as far as I could see. It looked big enough to sail a boat into. I floated down, and found that the entrance was partially blocked by a mound of severed ogre heads, some little more than skulls, others looking freshly frozen. Their dead eyes stared at me with looks of indignation. Far beyond them, I saw faint lights. I decided to begin my investigation here.

Within the chamber, I found a medium-sized schooner lifted from the frozen waters and supported by what can only be described as a dry dock of ice. The ship appeared to be in good condition. Closer inspection showed that the ship was the
Relentless
; having spent my adult years in conversation with sailors from around the world, I knew that this ship belonged to King Brightmoon’s Judgment Fleet. The king had empowered these ships to serve as floating courts. They enforced the law at sea, with their captains serving as judge, jury, and executioner. The judge-captains kept a commission from the ships they seized to pay for their expenses; the rest was sent to the king. Even minor infractions were enough to justify seizing a ship, cargo and crew, which could only be released after payment of substantial fines.

In Commonground, it was noted that most people who functioned under a similar business model were labeled pirates and hung from gallows in civilized ports, where the judges were revered as champions of the law. Of course, a judge would face a fate far less dignified than hanging if he dared sail into Commonground. Everywhere you look in this world, there’s symmetry.

I hadn’t come here looking for symmetry, but for my wife. Unfortunately, I felt no connection pulling me. A score of corridors led off from this frozen underground bay. Which to follow?

As I contemplated my next move, I spotted a light from a tunnel near the
Relentless
. Shadows danced out over the frosted wooden surface of the ship, and a robed man emerged from the hall. I guessed from his drab garb that he was a friar of the Church of the Book. Unlike the monks I’d been raised among, who rarely strayed from the grounds of their cloister, friars were nomadic holy men, traveling the world. I use the term ‘holy men’ loosely; while they were respected members of the church, they lacked the direct connection to the One True Book demonstrated by Truthspeakers, and, unlike monks, they took no vows of meekness. Most of the assassins who’d shown up in Commonground looking for Infidel had been friars.

This friar carried a bundle wrapped in a large sealskin. He looked quite agitated. While friars did share vows of poverty with monks and priests, this one was sporting a rather eye-catching bit of wealth; a signet ring on the middle finger of his right hand was inset with a facetted glorystone, casting a light bright as a lantern.

The friar headed up a set of gangplanks to the deck of the
Relentless
. His loud footsteps on the beams caused the door of the aftcastle to be thrown open. A large man in a heavy coat stepped out and said, “Be quiet, brother. The judge is already in bed.”

“Wake him at once,” the friar said, shaking the bundle of skins he carried. “He must see this.”

“There’s nothing in those pelts that can’t wait until tomorrow,” said the guard.

The friar dropped to his knees and whipped the seal skin forward, unfurling it like a blanket. Within was the Immaculate Attire, from boots to collar. A lump formed in my throat.

“Blade’s armor?” the guard asked, completely befuddled. “What’s
he
doing back here?”

“Blade wasn’t wearing it,” said the friar. “It was taken off a woman. A woman with platinum hair and silver eyes.”

The guard’s breath caught in his throat. He whispered, “The Infidel?”

“She fought Tarpok using Lord Tower’s Gloryhammer,” said the friar. “She survived being crushed by Slor Tonn, though she’s been injured. The ogresses are tending to her wounds.”

“What?” the guard exclaimed. “If she’s wounded, she should be finished off!”

“I know!” said the friar. “The ogresses say that her death would be wasteful. They say she’s more valuable to them alive.”

“Did you warn them of –”

“They have no respect for my words,” the friar snapped. “This alliance is madness! Judge Stern must intervene!”

Judge Stern? The judge who’d hanged his own mother? Sorrow’s father?

The guard shook his head, then said, “Wait here.”

I was disinclined to wait. I flew down the tunnel the friar had emerged from, hoping to find Infidel. Instead, ten yards in, the tunnel forked. On a whim, I chose the right branch. It forked again. Flying back, I chose the left branch. It led to a polished dome of ice where murals of whale hunts had been painted on the walls with frozen blood. A half-dozen corridors led from here.

With a thought, I was back at the ship. My best hope at finding Infidel was that Judge Stern would demand to see her. I’d follow him, and then what? If he tried to execute Infidel, how could I stop him?

Judge Stern emerged from the aftcastle a moment later, dressed in a thick woolen nightgown. He wasn’t a terribly imposing figure, of medium height and build, with a wrinkled face that sagged on his skull. His hair was thinning, but enough remained to pull back into a frazzled braid. He had bushy mutton chops and eyebrows so thick they looked like fuzzy gray caterpillars crawling on his liver-spotted brow.

“Tell me everything you know, Brother Will,” said Stern.

I learned nothing new from the testimony that followed.

“What became of the Gloryhammer?” the judge asked.

“The heathen Tarpok claimed it as his prize,” said Brother Will.

The judge grunted his disapproval. “A sacred relic of the church cannot remain in the hands of such a beast,” he said. “We’ll deal with that matter at another time. For now, we need the ogres to guide us across the Great Sea Above if we’re to complete our mission.”

This would have been a handy time for Brother Will to ask, “And what is our mission, exactly?” so that I could have learned what the hell they were planning. Alas, he had already been briefed.

“If the Gloryhammer and Immaculate Attire are here, then the quest to kill Greatshadow must have succeeded, since these assets were deployed there,” said Judge Stern. “The guiding hand of the Divine Author has brought these items to us on the eve of our final journey.”

“Or else the mission failed,” said Brother Will. “Could it be that the most sacred champions of the church have been slain by the Infidel, and she’s come here to stop us?”

Judge Stern scratched his stubbled chin with his neatly trimmed nails. He nodded slowly, drew a deep breath, then said, “At present, all we have is speculation. Perhaps it’s a lucky thing the woman was taken alive. I’m greatly interested in hearing her testimony. Brother Will, go inform the ogresses I shall visit the prisoner as soon as I’m dressed.”