Authors: Daniel Arenson
Finally
Domi glided down toward a
sambuk
ship—a long sturdy vessel with two
masts, massive lateen sails, and an ornately carved hull. She landed on the
deck, and once Gemini had climbed off her leg, she shifted back into human form
and faced him.
"Are
you all right?" Her voice was soft, and she reached out to touch his hair.
He
shoved her hand away. "Don't pat me like I'm your dog! Of course I'm all
right. I'm the lord of this host. Those brutes attempted to overthrow me."
He pointed a shaky finger ahead at the fleet, not sure where the ship of
mutinous warriors sailed but knowing it was out there somewhere, that the
brutes still mocked him. This whole damn fleet was full of traitors.
Domi
sighed. "Gemini, things are different now. Amity rules our assault."
She pointed upward. The Red Queen was still circling above the fleet, calling
out for war. "Amity is leading us now."
Gemini
sneered. "That red-arsed baboon of a reptile? She's nothing! Just a
barbarian harlot." He grabbed Domi's arms and snarled at her. "I'm
the heir to the Cured Temple. Me! I'm the son of the Deus family. Me! Not some
. . . some unwashed weredragon from the islands."
Anger
kindled in Domi's eyes. "Release me. You're making a fool of yourself."
"
I'm
making a fool of myself?" He brayed laughter. "You're the one
following this horde of miscreants. Domi!" His eyes dampened, and his
voice shook. "Domi, we were meant to do this together. To fight Beatrix
together, side by side. To take over the Temple and . . . and be together
again. Me in the Temple, you in Requiem, a king and a queen. Allies. Friends."
A tear streamed down his cheek. "In love. But now all that might be lost.
Spirit, Domi, you hear Amity. She wants to crush the Temple—my birthright! To
destroy it!" He trembled. "What would become of me then?"
Domi
stared at him, her eyes cold, her face hard. "Nothing," she
whispered. "You will become nothing."
Rage
exploded through Gemini. Pure, all-consuming rage, hotter than dragonfire,
louder than the roars of beasts. He howled and swung his arm, and he backhanded
Domi so hard she crashed down onto the deck. Her blood splattered.
Gemini
stood over her, hands trembling. His eyes widened, and he felt the blood drain
from his face.
"I'm
sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Domi, I didn't mean to . . . I didn't
. . ."
A
howl sounded behind him, and Gemini turned to see Cade running across the deck
toward him.
The
boy, face red with rage, leaped onto Gemini and swung his fists.
One
fist slammed into Gemini's cheek, knocking his head back. He crashed to the
ground, Cade's fists driving down again and again. Blood filled Gemini's mouth,
and panic flooded him.
"Get
off me!" Gemini shouted and kicked.
His
knee drove into Cade's belly, knocking the air out of the boy. Gemini growled,
bloodlust consuming him, shoved Cade off, and landed his own punch. He laughed,
blood in his mouth, as he turned the tide, pummeling the boy.
"I'll
teach you a lesson, rat!" Gemini shouted, laughing, blood dripping down
his chin. He was taller and heavier than Cade, and he punched again, hitting
the boy's chin.
Lying
beneath him, Cade shifted.
The
boy grew in size, scales hardening across him. Gemini screamed and fell back onto
the wooden deck. The golden dragon stood up and snarled down at him, blasting
smoke.
"Coward,"
Gemini said and spat onto the reptile. "Too weak to face me as a man?"
He rose to his feet, marched to the balustrade, grabbed a sword from a rack,
and pointed the blade at Cade. "I can slay dragons. I'm going to cut you
down, boy." He raised his sword, prepared to swing the blade.
"Enough!"
The
voice rose from above. Beating wings blasted Gemini's hair. Across the deck,
warriors stared up, gasped, and knelt. Gemini looked up and sneered.
Amity,
the Red Queen of the Horde, came flying down toward him. The red dragon was
larger than Cade's reptilian form, and fire blazed in her maw. Her wings
billowed the sails. The red dragon landed on the deck and shifted into human
form. She stood before Gemini as a woman—tall and tanned, clad in armor, her
limbs long and lithe. Her yellow hair was just long enough to fall across her
ears, and her eyes blazed with rage.
Gemini
sneered at the woman. "Do you know who I am? Kneel!" He pointed at
the deck. "Kneel, reptilian whore, before your true master. I am Gemini
Deus, and you will kneel before me!"
Amity
glanced aside at Domi and Cade; the boy had resumed human form and now stood by
the redheaded traitor. Gemini would burn them both later.
The
Red Queen turned her gaze back toward him. "I know you, Gemini Deus. I
know you well. Domi thought to wrap you in the robes of a High Priest, to create
a little puppet ruler and pull your strings. But we'll have no more need for
your services. And you will be the one to kneel before me. You will kneel now,
as you asked me to kneel, and you will pledge your loyalty to me. Do this and
live. Refuse and you will die."
Gemini
growled. The rage flowed across him. He raised his sword. "How dare you,
woman?" He spat at Amity's feet. "How dare you, harlot? You're
nothing but a barbarian, a brute not worthy of polishing my boots. When I'm
High Priest, I'll have you shoveling dung in the capital, I—"
Before
Gemini could complete his sentence, Amity leaped forward, knocked aside his
sword with her own blade, and drove her fist into his face.
His
legs turned to jelly.
He
collapsed onto the deck, reeling.
Cade
had fought like a wild dog, but Amity pummeled Gemini with the intensity and
heartless efficiency of a blacksmith beating steel. Her knees pinned him down,
and her punches rained, and he screamed.
He
felt himself shatter.
She
grabbed him, tugging him to his feet, leaving a deck stained with blood. She
shoved him against the balustrade and placed her sword against his neck. She
sneered at him over the blade, a wild beast, still in human form but no less
monstrous than a dragon.
"Now
you die, Gemini Deus, Paladin of the Temple."
"Domi!"
Gemini cried, slumped against the balustrade, blood in his mouth. "Domi,
please!" He reached out to her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please."
He wept. "I'm sorry. Please don't let me die. Please."
As
the blade shoved against his neck, he stared at Domi through her tears. She
stood on the deck, wrapped in Cade's arms. She gazed at him with those huge
eyes, peering through her strands of wild hair. And he saw the pity in those
eyes. He saw the love for him.
"I
love you," Gemini whispered. "I'm sorry."
He
took a deep, shuddering breath, ready for Amity to drive her blade forward, to
end his life. He would die looking at Domi, at the most beautiful thing he'd
ever seen, at the woman he loved. He could think of no better way to die.
Amity
nodded once and took a deep breath.
"Wait."
Domi stepped forward. "Wait, Amity." The young woman stared at
Gemini. "Spare his life."
Amity
turned toward her, still keeping her blade against Gemini's neck. "Do you
pity this dog?"
"I
do," Domi whispered. "I loved him once. Let him kneel before you. Let
him serve you."
Amity
snorted. "He's a son of the enemy. He must die."
"He's
a son of the enemy," Domi agreed, "which is why he must live. He's
worth more to us alive. Let him be our prisoner if not our servant. Let us
bring him alive to the Temple so that Beatrix might see that we've captured her
son." She looked back at Gemini. "Let him cling to whatever remains
of his life. He saved me, Amity. He saved my life once. Let me save his."
Amity
stared at Gemini for a moment longer, then at Domi. She seemed to be
considering. Finally she grunted, stepped back, and sheathed her blade.
Gemini
fell to his knees, trembling. Droplets of blood dripped from his nose to splash
against the deck.
"Thank
you," he whispered. He reached out to Domi. "Thank you. I—"
"Lift
him up!" Amity shouted to a group of sailors. "Tie him onto the mast.
He tried to slay the Red Queen. He will be punished. Tie him up and beat him!
Ten lashes of the whip, then toss him into the brig."
Gemini
gasped. "No! I . . . I'm kneeling! I serve you! I . . . I serve you, Red
Queen, please!" His voice was hoarse. "Please!"
But
Amity was already walking away, and the sailors stepped forth. They grabbed Gemini.
They twisted his arms behind his back. He struggled but he was too weak to
resist.
"Domi,
please!" he cried.
They
tied him to the mast, and Domi wept and covered her eyes, and they beat him.
They lashed their whips, again and again, tearing into his back, ignoring his
screams, ignoring his tears, his pleading. When they finally untied him, he
collapsed onto the deck, and they dragged him, and darkness fell upon Gemini,
darkness greater than the night, greater than the dungeons of the Temple,
greater than the loss of Domi's love. He knew nothing but shadows and pain.
CADE
He was flying
high above the Horde's fleet, a golden dragon in the wind, when Cade saw the
white ships rise from the northern horizon.
He
frowned.
"Ships?"
Cade
soared higher, and he saw them more clearly now—hundreds of masts rising from
the horizon, a great armada, its sails white.
He
glanced below him. The fleet of the Horde sailed there, the ships small from this
height. When Cade glanced behind him, he could just make out the coast of
Terra, a faded line on the horizon. He stared back ahead.
Were
these more ships of the Horde, allies come to join them, sent here from another
garrison?
Cade
narrowed his eyes, beat his wings, and darted ahead. He shot across the sky,
leaving the Horde's fleet behind, moving closer toward the distant ships.
He
sucked in breath.
"Stars,"
he whispered.
The
distant vessels—hundreds sailed there—were brigantines, carracks, and caravels,
ships of the north. Their hulls were painted white, and their square sails
displayed golden tillvine blossoms. Above them flew hundreds of firedrakes,
riders upon them.
"The
Cured Temple's fleet." Cade could barely breathe. "Beatrix attacks."
He
spun around in the sky and flew as fast as he could, heading back toward the
Horde's ships.
"Enemy
ahead!" Cade shouted, voice roaring across the sky. "The Cured Temple
attacks! Enemy ships ahead!"
Across
the fleet of the Horde, sailors stared his way. Griffins, salvanae, and dragons
cried out, beat their wings, and soared higher.
Wings
thudded, and Amity rose to fly beside Cade. The red dragon gave the invading
fleet one glance, then roared out for all to hear, "Horde! Battle
formations! Horde, prepare for war!" Amity glanced at Cade and puffed a
spurt of flame his way. "With me, kid. We're going to kill some star-damn
Templers."
The
enemy fleet kept sailing closer, and Cade could hear their war drums now, their
horns wailing like dying men, and the distant buzz of priests and warriors
chanting for victory. Below Cade, the sailors in the Horde's crow's nests
spotted the enemy masts, and they cried out their warnings and blew their own
horns.
"Enemy
ships! Enemy ships!"
Griffins
took flight from decks and rose to fly to one side of the Horde's fleet, a
great cloud of fur and feathers and gleaming yellow beaks. Salvanae rose too,
uncoiling to form great serpents in the sky, as long as the ships, chinking and
gleaming and bugling out their cries. Upon the ships, archers nocked arrows,
gunners poured gunpowder into cannons, and warriors brandished their swords,
axes, spears, and hammers.
With
a flash of blue scales, Fidelity soared to fly by Cade. "What is it?"
she said, squinting toward the distance. In her dragon form, she didn't even
have one lens to see through. "I can't see! How many Temple ships?"
"All
of them, I think." Cade beat his wings. "Fly, Fidelity! Let's burn
the bastards."
The
two dragons flew, following Amity. The red dragon roared ahead, blasting out
fire, crying out for war. More wings thudded, and three more dragons soared to
join them: Korvin, a burly charcoal beast, his scales like iron plates; Roen, a
long green dragon, a creature like a fairy tale monster of moss and leaf, a
dragon of the deep woods, roaring for the burning of his forest; and Domi, a
wild dragon with scales in all the colors of flame, a creature that seemed
woven of fire itself. Together, six dragons—the last of their kind in the
world—stormed forth, forming the spearhead of their army, and roared out their
flame.
A
thousand firedrakes of the Cured Temple stormed toward them across the sea. A
thousand arrows and a thousand jets of flame flew their way.
Cade
roared and charged into the inferno.
The
sea roiled and the sky burned.
Cade
blasted out his dragonfire. The jet screamed through the air, loud as cannon
fire. Streams of flame crashed around him, and arrows clattered against his
scales, and he soared through the blaze.
"Fidelity,
with me!" he cried.
He
rose higher and saw the enemy firedrakes shooting his way, hundreds of them,
covering the sky, flying in groups of five, their formations a machine of
deadly precision. They stormed toward Cade, and on their backs, paladins fired
their arrows.
"I'm
here!" Fidelity cried, rising up toward him.
More
fire flowed their way, and the two dragons—gold and blue—shouted and swooped,
blasting down their dragonfire.
Their
twin jets of flame wreathed together, crackling, spewing out fountains of heat.
The dragonfire crashed into a flight of firedrakes below. The flames washed
over one paladin, melting his armor, melting the flesh beneath. The man
screamed and tumbled from the saddle, and Cade and Fidelity kept swooping. With
a roar, Cade landed on one firedrake and closed his jaws around the paladin in
the saddle. He bit deep, his fangs punching through steel plates, and whipped
his head backward, ripping the screaming man from the saddle. He tossed the
corpse aside and lashed his claws, digging them into the firedrake's
tenderspots, cutting deep into the flesh within, piercing the lungs, then
sending the firedrake falling. Cade reared in the sky, roaring, covered in
blood, blasting out fire.