Dragons Reborn (26 page)

Cade
stared down at the Templer ships sailing south. He stared up at the firedrakes,
salvanae, and griffins still fighting above. He stared at the Horde's sinking fleet,
and his heart seemed to sink just as low, and fear washed over him, as cold and
suffocating as the sea's embrace.

 
 
AMITY

"Burn the
ships!" Amity shouted. "Horde, fight! Fight them! Griffins, to me!
Salvanae, fight, burn the firedrakes!" She flew through the inferno,
burnt, cut, screaming. "Vir Requis, rally here! Requiem, burn the ships!"

Amity
couldn't even see the other dragons. Korvin had been flying at her side only
moments ago, but he had vanished. Amity called out to him. She called out to
Domi, to Roen, even to that snot-nosed boy Cade. They had vanished into the
darkness and the fire. Amity flew, dodging cannonballs, roaring as arrows
scraped against her. She soared, flying between firedrakes, holding them back
with her dragonfire. She dived toward the black sea, coughing from the smoke
that rose from her ships. Most of those ships were gone now, buried under the
sea. Most of her warriors, valiant men and women of the Horde, had burned and
drowned in the water. Most of her dreams of conquest, of triumph, of a mighty
flight into the Cured Temple, burned with the devastation of her forces.

No.

Amity
trembled. She could barely beat her wings. She could summon no more fire to
breathe, only sparks and smoke.

This
wasn't supposed to happen. She beat her wings, flying through the smoke,
seeking the others, calling out for them, calling for the ships, for her warriors,
for a shred of hope.

We were supposed to sail toward the beaches of the Commonwealth, to
sweep across their land, to conquer the north.

Now
all her army, all she had fought for, the hosts she had tamed Behemoth for,
slain Shafel for, bled and killed for, all burned and screamed and drowned
under the waves. The sun set across the battle, and the sun set upon her hope.

"Amity!"
The roar rose from below, hoarse and rumbling. "Amity, we must return to
the coast!"

She
looked down. Her vision was hazy. Smoke, tears, and flying scraps of burning sails
hid her world. It felt like flying underwater. Through the murkiness he rose, a
great charcoal dragon: Korvin.

"This
wasn't meant to happen . . .," Amity whispered as the gray dragon rose to
hover before her. "Korvin, this wasn't meant to—"

Howls
rose above, and heat bathed Amity as three firedrakes came diving toward her.
She tried to roar fire, but only sparks left her jaws; she was too weak,
drained of her flames. She soared, lashed her claws, and whipped her tail.
Korvin fought at her side, biting into the enemies, sending them crashing down.

"Amity,
we must return to Terra!" he shouted. "Hundreds of Templer ships
broke through, and the Horde's women and children are on the beaches."

Amity
yowled and spun back north. "We must fly to the Commonwealth—to Requiem,
Korvin! To Requiem!" She dived down, roaring for whatever warriors of the
Horde remained alive. "Fly with me, Horde! Sail forth! Charge ahead! To
the north, to the north!"

Korvin
grabbed her tail, growling. "Amity, the women and children! They'll die
without us!"

Her
eyes stung. "And what of the women and children in Requiem?" Tears
flowed down her scaled cheeks. "What of the babies Mercy is murdering
because they're born with dragon magic? What of them, Korvin?"

"We
can no longer save them!" he shouted, lashing his tail at a swooping
firedrake. "Not like this, not this night! Amity!" He tried to grab
her. "You are Queen of the Horde. You must protect your women and
children."

"I
must protect Requiem!" she roared, tears in her eyes.

She
charged through the battle, cutting through smoke, fire, raining blood. She
flew across ships of her army, trying to save them, to steer than onward to the
north. She flew among griffins and salvanae caught in a sky of firedrakes. She
flew over the dark water, over thousands of drowning people, and she was there
again, a child again, flying over the sea, trying to save her parents, watching
them fall dead into the water, watching them vanish, watching her life shatter,
fleeing, weeping, screaming, vanishing into long shadows that engulfed her for
years.

Where
are you, Mother?
cried a voice deep inside her.
Father, where are you?

The
sea seemed to burn in the night, the sinking ships a thousand stars, blazing
with red fire. All was darkness and light, shadows and smoke, terror and
memory. Defeat. Grief. Death.

I
lived then,
Amity thought as she flew through the smoke.
I survived, a
frightened little girl, a girl grown into a vanquished queen.
She turned to
look south. Past smoke and light they were sailing: the ships of the Templers,
driving out from the ruin they had left on the water. And beyond the miles,
beyond the dark water and death, they waited: the women, children, and elders
of the Horde. Children—like the child she had been. Children whose parents
she, Amity, had led to death in fire and water. Children whose blood would be
on her hands.

She
wept.

Goodbye,
Requiem. I will not forget you. I will never stop fighting for you. But now I
must fight for them.

Amity
wheeled around in the sky, wings churning the black smoke, and flew south. She
flew over the blazing masts of the sinking ships, over the corpses of men and
beasts, caught between fire and shadow, until she reached Korvin. Until she
reached the other Vir Requis. They flew together, emerging from the inferno,
the ruin of their fleet. They flew south, back to the continent of Terra, back
to save whoever they could before the world burned in the light of the Cured
Temple.

 
 
GEMINI

He stood in the
brig, shouting and pounding against the door.

"Let
me out! Spirit, let me out!"

The
ship swayed madly around him. Gemini fell, banging his elbow, rose to his feet
again, then swayed and banged his head against the wall. The sounds of battle
sounded from above: roaring dragons, clanging swords, screaming men, crackling
fire. The Temple was attacking the Horde, and he was trapped here in the bowels
of a ship, a prisoner again. The lanterns swung madly on the walls, casting
dancing shadows. Gemini banged again at the wooden door.

"Let
me out!"

With
every movement, his back blazed with pain, and blood dripped from his wounds.
The weredragons had beaten him, then whipped him. He was weak, maybe dying. The
ship kept rocking, banging him against the walls and floor, tossing him around
like dice in a shaken cup. His wounds throbbed. His head spun as madly as the
ship, and every breath sawed through his throat.

"Domi!"
he shouted. "Domi, let me out!"

He
knew she couldn't hear him. Countless men and beasts were roaring above,
cannons blasted, wood creaked, a deafening din. Gemini could barely hear
himself scream. Domi must be flying high above the battle now, blasting out her
fire. Mercy would be flying there too; Gemini was sure of it. He had to get
out. He had to face his sister. He had to kill her himself, to take her place,
to rule both Horde and Temple.

"Anyone!"
he shouted hoarsely, pounding against the door again and again. "I am Lord
Gemini Deus! Let me out!"

For
an instant, the battle seemed almost quiet. The shouts from above faded. Only a
few distant griffins shrieked.

Then,
with roaring, blazing, all-consuming wrath and sound, the fists of a god
pounded against the ship.

Gemini
shouted and covered his ears.

Wood
cracked. A cannonball tore through the ceiling and slammed down behind him,
shattering the floor. Slats of wood rose like the fangs of some mechanical
beast. Water, cold and black, gushed into the brig.

Gemini
stared around with horror. The water rose around his ankles, then rose to his
knees. Streams of more water gushed in from the walls. No more men screamed
above upon the deck, only the roar of fire. The walls creaked, more water
gushed in, and the brig tilted madly. Gemini stumbled and banged against the
wall. Around him, he knew, the ship was sinking.

Fear,
cold and wet as the ocean, flooded Gemini.

I'm
going to drown. I'm going to die here.
He trembled as the water rose to his
waist.
I'll never get to kill Mercy. I'll never see Domi again.

He
thought of Domi's green eyes, her beautiful presence, an angel lying beside him
in his bed, draped in sunlight.

I
cannot lose you.

Gemini
took a deep, shuddering breath and slogged through the water. He slammed
against the door again and again. Water raced in, and more wood cracked, slats
slamming down and shattering. The water was so deep now Gemini was swimming,
his feet no longer touching the floor. He grabbed a slat of wood that thrust
out from the wall and tugged, screaming, tearing it aside. He grabbed another
slat. He pulled and widened the hole. More water raced in, mixed with blood.
The lamps in the brig shattered and fell into the water, plunging him into
darkness.

Gemini
gritted his teeth and shoved himself through the hole. The wooden slats scraped
against the wounds on his back, and he yowled, nearly passing out from the
pain. Water slammed down against him, filling his mouth, and he coughed, pulled
himself forward, dragged himself out of the brig. Blindly he swam, climbed,
tugged himself up the stairs, and finally shoved a hatch open and crawled onto
the deck.

The
gates of the Abyss seemed to have opened around him, spewing forth their evil.

A
thousand ships burned in the night, shattered, and sank around him, most of
them the vessels of the Horde. Countless men screamed in the water, burnt,
drowning. Thousands of corpses floated or sank. The skies were a reflection of
the terror below; griffins flew above, blazing. Salvanae roared, their scales
dangling loose, their wounds dripping. Countless firedrakes screamed above,
spewing flame, and in the distance, Gemini could make out the carracks of the
Cured Temple.

Mercy
is here somewhere.

"Sister!"
he shouted. "Mer—"

The
deck swayed beneath him, and he fell to his knees. He looked around him, and
his heart sank. His ship's deck had shattered in two, and wooden slats rose
like quills on a porcupine. A mast cracked and fell down beside him, shattering
more planks. Only a few scattered men still lived on the ship; Cade watched a
few leap into a rowboat and begin to row away, only for a firedrake to plunge
from the sky and burn them.

Gemini
stared around in terror. More cannonballs slammed into the sinking ship, and he
fell back down. The sky burned. The sea raged. A wave soared, demonic and
black, and crashed down onto him. He swallowed water and coughed, and when the
wave subsided, he realized that the deck was now fully submerged.

I'm
going to die here. I'm going to drown.
He panted.
I'm going to die, oh
Spirit, please don't let me die, please—

He
clenched his fists.

No.

He
growled and rose to his feet on the submerged deck. The water rose to his
knees.

No,
I'm going to live.
He shouted to the sky, arms tossed back.

"I
am Gemini Deus, and I'm going to live!" He laughed, the world spinning
around him. Burning scraps of human skin rained from the sky. "I'm going
to live! Do you hear me, Mercy? Do you hear me, Domi? You cannot kill me! No
one can kill me! I am Gemini and I will rule the Temple!"

The
deck gave a
crack
underwater. Bubbles shot up, the last air fleeing the
cabins below. The ship plunged down into the sea.

Laughing,
Gemini vanished under the water with it.

The
air fleeing the cabins roared up around him, millions of bubbles. He tried to
kick and swim but could not in the froth. He kept sinking, and the air ached in
his lungs. Men sank around him, heavy in their armor, kicking but finding no
way to swim in the roiling bubbles.

One
drowning man slammed against Gemini. He grabbed the man and shoved as
powerfully as he could, pushing himself sideways, out of the froth escaping the
sinking ship. He kicked, desperate for air, and rose in the water. Firelight
blazed above, and Gemini had to breathe, had to open his mouth, to fill his
lungs, even if it was seawater. Stars floated behind his eyes. He had to sink.
He had to breathe. He—

No.
I will live.

He
kicked madly.

He
breached the surface.

He
gulped down hot, smoky, beautiful air.

He
floated in the dark sea, the flames raging around him. Flotsam floated
everywhere, most of it burning. Corpses were sinking in their armor, and more
kept raining from the sky. Some ships listed and slowly sank; most were already
gone. The only ships that still floated were the warships of the Cured Temple,
white carracks and brigantines. They were distant, sailing away, leaving him
here.

"Domi!"
he shouted, but he could not see her. Above, the firedrakes were streaming
south, leaving the debris behind.

The
Templers had come here with ships and firedrakes and paladins, Gemini realized.
Better armed, better organized, better trained, they had shattered the pathetic
flotilla of the Horde, and now they moved on.

Leaving
me.

The
Temple's ships sailed away, growing more distant until they were only floating lights
in the darkness like fireflies. The firedrakes flew above them, their shrieks
only distant echoes, memories of their wrath. Gemini remained, bobbing in the
rising and falling water, as all around him scraps of wood blazed, the last few
masts sank into the dark depths, and men screamed as they slipped down, down,
down into darkness and silence, leaving him too.