Kal Moonheart Trilogy: Dragon Killer, Roll the Bones & Sirensbane (16 page)

BOOK: Kal Moonheart Trilogy: Dragon Killer, Roll the Bones & Sirensbane
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She wrapped herself up in the sail that lay folded up next to the mast at the bottom of the boat. The heat was still almost too much to bear, she had no idea where the hell this ride was taking her, and she could hardly get any oxygen to her lungs—but at least she hadn’t been boiled alive yet.

When the pressure lifted, Kal threw back the damp sail. The boat had left the mountain and was passing through a deep and narrow canyon in the rock. The sides of the canyon were shaking, splitting and shifting, and the space between them was just ten feet wide; if the sloop wasn’t scraping along the left wall of the canyon, then it was scraping along the right. Still, she was still moving in the right direction as the water surged forward, pushed out of the mountain by a tide of lava. But when Kal glanced back, she saw that the lava was hot on her heels, rising ten feet above her, filling the canyon from side to side …

Kal closed her eyes.
I almost made it!

Ten seconds later she opened them again. She was still alive. What was once a wave of red molten death was now a solid grey cliff of billowy undulating rock. The lava had cooled and hardened, apparently satisfied with chasing her out of the caves. The sloop was free to slip easily out of the canyon and into the sea, where the current caught it and dragged it parallel to the coast. The mangroves and mountain came into view, and Kal was presented with a vista that was both silent and still; under a hot sun and a clear blue sky was a beautiful tropical scene that belied the turmoil taking place underground. Kal could just about make out the tiny shapes of the goblin workers spilling down the slopes, along with a handful of Darklaw’s soldiers. But as she watched, bursts of orange flame began flowering over the mountainside, starting at the base and spreading upwards.

Then with an ear-splitting
boom
, the top of the volcano exploded.

 

* * *

 

‘And did Mister Darklaw die in the volcano?’

Kal nodded and kissed the forehead of her child.

‘Yes, Darling. Bad Mister Darklaw died instantly when the mountain fell on top of him. It was a quick and painless end. He didn’t suffer. He didn’t feel a thing.’

 

* * *

 

Kal struggled to get the sloop under sail as soon as possible. Behind her a three-hundred-foot fountain of lava spewed from the top of the volcano. Rivers of the stuff were running down into the swamp, sending up toxic clouds of greenish steam. Fist-sized projectiles were falling out of the sky and splashing all around the boat. Kal yelled as one hit her on the shoulder while she was concentrating on slotting the mainmast into its socket. She picked it up; it was a lightweight black rock that was pockmarked with air bubbles. She kicked it overboard.

More and more rocks were raining down on Kal when she finally caught some wind and started to move clear of the eruption. Tiny pieces of sharp volcanic glass were now showering her as well, forcing her into the cover of the sloop’s small cabin. But taking one last look back, she saw that she was not out of danger yet …

A great black winged shape was gliding above the lava flows and heading in her direction. So that was Darklaw’s escape plan, to ride to safety in his flying machine! As Kal watched, the wood and canvas dragon was hit by a barrage of hot rocks that ripped through its wings and set them on fire.
Ha!
Darklaw didn’t have Kal’s luck when it came to making an exit.

Her laugh stuck in her throat. The flaming dragon was falling out of the sky sure enough, but it was closing in on her position, getting closer and closer every second. The same wind that was filling the sails of the sloop was also bringing her enemy directly to her. She could now see Darklaw at the controls of the dragon, desperately working the levers that pulled the ropes that moved the wings. For one heart-stopping moment it looked as if he was intent on smashing the great machine into the boat, but then at the last moment Darklaw yanked the controls back and the dragon sailed overhead, missing the top of the sloop’s mast by only a couple of inches.

Kal watched the winged-contraption as it finally smacked down onto the water, ceasing to be a life-like monster, and becoming instead just a sinking mass of wood and material. She almost didn’t register the
thunk
as something heavy fell from the passing dragon and hit the deck behind her.

She threw herself to the deck just in time as Darklaw’s bastard sword sliced through the air above her head. As the giant advanced on her in a rage, Kal reached up and pushed the boom that held the mainsail in position; it swung around and knocked the sword out of Darklaw’s hand and sent it to the bottom of the sea. Kal scrabbled up on top of the roof of the cabin and tried to put the mainmast between herself and her foe. She had no weapon; she must have lost her second dagger during her escape. Darklaw didn’t let up his attack; he jumped up onto the cabin roof and advanced on Kal with his arms outstretched.

‘Stop! Please!’ Kal cried, almost in tears. She was exhausted and in no fit state to fight anyone, let alone the muscled beast that stood before her.

Darklaw was unheeding and implacable, though, his features twisting in anger and hatred. He wrapped both of his huge hands around Kal’s throat and lifted her off the deck by her neck. ‘Die!’ he roared. ‘Just die!’

Kal could feel the gold and silver necklace that Darklaw had given her pressing into her neck beneath his grip. His yellow eyes bore into hers as if he was determined to bear witness to her final moments. Kal knew that she had taken her last ever breath; she couldn’t move her tongue, swallow or even force her lips to speak.

But she could still
think
. And moments before her body gave up the will to live, she remembered …

She brought her right knee up and into Darklaw’s side, opening up the wound that Rafe had made with the Blade of Banos. Darklaw screamed in pain as the stitches split. He dropped to his knees, but still he didn’t loosen his grip on Kal’s neck. However, when she felt her feet hit the deck again, Kal put her hands on Darklaw’s wrists, returned his intense stare, then pushed with her thigh muscles and twisted her body to the side. It was enough—together they fell from the deck of the boat and into the hot sea.

They found themselves suspended in a silent blue world, locked together and sinking slowly to the sand below. A torrent of thick blood gushed from Darklaw’s side and hung in the water like a dark ribbon, but if he knew that he was finished then he was determined to take Kal down with him: his hands remained clamped to her neck. She sensed movement in the water around them, but her oxygen-starved brain was shutting down and her field of vision was shrinking to a narrow tunnel, down which Darklaw’s yellow eyes glared back at her. The only thing keeping her conscious was the sharp pain of the links of the necklace as they bit into her neck.

Kal’s hands had lost their grip on Darklaw’s wrists. Her fingers were turning numb and her arms felt like they belonged to someone else. With one final supreme force of will, she concentrated on flexing her triceps and pivoting her arms at her shoulders. She reached back behind her neck, fingers fumbling at the clasp of the necklace.

When it came undone, it slipped from around her neck, and so did Darklaw’s grasp. His body was sinking suddenly away from her. The last thing that Kal saw before the darkness took her was Darklaw’s expression of furious anger turn to one of desperate terror as the circling sharpfins closed in on his bleeding body. Then he was lost amid the feeding frenzy as several dozen of the razor-toothed predators fought for their share of his flesh.

The ribbon of blood soon turned into a heavy all-enveloping cloud.

 

* * *

 

When Kal came to, she was lying on her back on the deck of the
Swordfish
. She felt someone’s lips on hers, and when she opened her eyes she saw her friend Lula smiling back at her. Dead Leg, the captain, was standing over her, too, a broad grin on his face.

‘Kal!’ a voice shouted from just off to one side. ‘You’re alive!’

Lula helped Kal sit up, and she turned to see another familiar face. ‘Ben!’ she gasped, coughing up seawater at the same time. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I left the city a few days after you did,’ he explained. ‘The Senate was looking for someone to take on the job of governor temporarily and, well, I fancied a holiday and the chance to keep an eye on my gold mine … so here I am!’

Kal laughed and gave Ben a wet hug. Far out to sea she could see a haze of smoke hanging over the island.

‘So?’ Ben asked as Kal rested her tired head on his shoulder. ‘Can I go and get my gold back now? Did you kill the dragon?’

‘Yeah,’ Kal sighed. ‘I got him.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

V.ix

 

Smoke and Mirrors

 

 

 

The Dragon roared and advanced on Kal; she could hear its feet thumping on the ground as it stomped towards her. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to block out the pain of the flames that ate at her back. What else could she do? She had attempted to roll out the fire, but the dragon’s flammable, sticky secretion was not just all over her body, but all over the leaves and branches on the ground, too.

The plan that she and Ben had spent most of the day working on had failed in an instant. The dragon had a better trick up its sleeve than Kal did. It had prepared its own trap and sprung it with a spark struck from its scales, and with one breath had ended Kal’s wild hopes of ever killing it.

Something heavy pressed down on her back. At least for a brief moment the pain let up as the flames that were ravaging her body were extinguished. Kal braced herself for the bite of the dragon’s jaws, but instead she heard a sharp voice at her ear—

‘Get up, Mooney. You’re no good to me dead!’

It was Ben. He had returned, soaking wet, from the river and flopped down on top of her. As the dragon bounded closer, they both rose and stumbled through the burning debris towards the heart of the willow grove. As they ran down the tunnel of twisted roots and branches, Kal tore away her smouldering, smoking clothes.

She could sense the dragon hot on their heels. The tunnel was just wide enough to allow its head in, and the dragon’s neck was just long enough for it to reach all the way down. Its advance down the tunnel was heralded by the sharp cracking of twigs and branches.

Kal and Ben made it to the open space that was the god Mena’s sanctuary, at the very centre of what was now the dragon’s nest. The domed ceiling of knotted willows was obscured by a haze of smoke that was filtering in from the nest’s burning extremities. Ben ran across the earthy bowl in the hope that the dragon wouldn’t be able to stretch as far as the other side, but Kal flung herself down in the very centre of the depression and turned to face her enemy.

It came at her relentlessly; its giant head emerged from the tunnel, and when it opened its jaws they filled almost the entire sacred space under the willows. The dragon's teeth were glistening like oiled swords, and its breath was hot and sweet. Kal sprawled in the dirt before it, half-naked and defenceless, a perfect offering to the creature that most men believed to be spawned from the dragon god himself.

But not Kal. To her, the dragon was simply a dangerous animal that needed to be put down.

But first it needed to be
snared
 …

Her hands felt around beneath her and found the end of a rope of slender entwined branches. She heaved on it and the rope lifted out of the dirt where it had been partially buried. The other end of the rope was knotted around a peg that had been hammered into a knothole in a trunk at the edge of the grove. As Kal gritted her teeth and yanked the rope as hard as she could, the peg popped free.

It had been securing another rope, one that held in place the thickest and longest of all the willow roots. It had taken all of Kal and Ben’s strength to bend it back on itself, and now that it was released, it whipped through the smoke-filled air and slammed into the back of the dragon’s neck with enough force to pin its head to the ground. If the dragon had been any smaller, then the blow would surely have broken its vertebrae, or even severed its head.

But if the dragon had been any smaller, then Kal wouldn’t have needed to turn the willow root into a
guillotine
 …

The entire length of the foot-thick root was bristling with glittering shards from the broken mirror that Kal had jammed into splits in the wood. The jagged glass hit the dragon from behind, sliding beneath the overlapping scales and cutting deep into its flesh. The animal screeched in pain and surprise, its small brain unable to comprehend where the attack had come from. Instinctively, it tried to pull back and retreat from danger.

Except it couldn’t move. Kal had ensured that the ends of the branches and roots that made up the entrance tunnel had been rearranged so that they all pointed inwards. The dragon had been able to slide in easily enough, but when it tried to pull out, the scales of its neck were caught in a hundred places. It was trapped.

Kal felt focused and determined as she reached for the final item that she had half-buried in the earth: a twenty inch-long shard of glass, the largest one that had fallen from the mirror when she had smashed it. The dragon was stunned and confused, and made no move to bite her as she stepped forward and moved slowly around its jaws to stand just to the left of its head. The creature watched her approach, somehow conveying a stricken and terrified expression with one unblinking orange eye.

‘I’m sorry,’ Kal told the dragon. ‘But this isn’t your time any more. You need to go now … go back into stories and legend.’

She gripped the deadly shard with both hands and speared the dragon’s eyeball, pushing the point deeper and deeper into its skull with all her strength until she found the brain.

The dragon died quietly, but not cleanly. Blood, gelatinous eyeball fluids and brain juices all sprayed out and washed all over Kal, painting her red, yellow and black from head to toe. She remained calm and still as the torrent bathed her, while in her head a strange transformation was taking place. For the first time in days, as she stood over the dragon’s body, she was experiencing a profound feeling, one she had last felt when she lay in the forest meadow with Deros, just before her life was upturned. Now—as then—she felt careless, safe and free, with her whole future ahead of her.

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