Authors: Daniel Arenson
"Where
are the damn ruins?" Amity said. As the sun dipped below the
horizon, she leaped off Cade's back and shifted into a red dragon.
She glided at his side. "I don't see anything."
"That's
because it's night," Cade said.
She
growled and lit with sky with dragonfire. "It's day now."
He
jabbed her with his tail. "Stop that! Your fire can be seen for
miles."
Amity
snorted. "So? Nothing here for miles. Nothing but damn mountains
and damn snow and a damn kid who thinks he's a warrior." She
slapped him right back with her own tail. "We're supposed to
find Draco Murus, ancient ruins. They could be anywhere here."
"Not
anywhere. I saw them on a map. They lie on a northwestern peak, just
before the land slopes down to the plains that lead to Terius Sea."
Cade stared down, squinting. The last glow of sunlight was fading in
the west. "Hard to even tell mountain apart from valley in the
darkness." He sighed. "We'll camp until dawn."
They
flew down and found a valley in the shadows, and they slept in dragon
forms, curled up into warm balls. They awoke at dawn covered in snow,
and they flew again, searching the mountains for hours, for many
leagues, finding nothing but the stone and ice.
Finally
at noon, where the mountains sloped down toward the snowy plains of
the north, they saw the ruins upon the mountaintop.
"It's
just a pile of rocks!" said Amity. She was riding on his back
again.
"What
did you think 'ruins' means, Amity?"
"Don't
get smart, kid. I expected something more . . . grand. Marble columns
soaring skyward, gargoyles the size of dragons, snowy statues . . .
maybe a few holes in the roof due to age. This is nothing
but
a hole."
Cade
stared down at the snowy remains of Draco Murus. "There's . . .
still an archway," he said, trying to sound hopeful.
"Half
an archway. And nothing else."
"Maybe
all the grand palaces are buried in the snow."
"And
maybe," said Amity, "Fidelity chose this place because the
last book she read had been written five thousand years ago. It's bad
enough that girl chose a place halfway across the empire, she had to
choose a dump."
Cade
sighed and began gliding downward. "I don't care how ravaged it
is. I just wanted to find the others here, but I don't see them
anywhere. Let's land and take a closer look."
They
landed on the snowy mountaintop. The broken archway rose above
them--two old, chipped columns, the arch between them fallen. The
keystone peeked from the snow; the rest was buried. Judging by the
height of the columns, Draco Murus had once been a massive fortress,
hundreds of feet tall, a place to rival even the Cured Temple in the
capital of Nova Vita. When Cade dug through the snow with his claws,
however, he found nothing but fallen bricks.
"Maybe
we're just the first ones here," Cade said. "We're fast
after all, as you said." He tried to keep his spirits up. "Maybe
the others will arrive soon."
Amity
grunted, blasting out smoke. The red dragon walked around the
mountaintop, flicking away snow with her tail. "And maybe
they're dead."
"They're
not--"
"How
do you know?" she demanded, and suddenly her eyes were damp.
"You don't know anything, boy. You don't! You just . . . just
cling to stupid hope, and--" She lowered her head. "Those
damn bonedrakes, Cade. And those damn firedrakes, and damn paladins,
and those damn ships, and all those damn dead people." She
trembled, scales chinking. "And now we're here, and they're not
here, and I'm scared, and I don't know what happened to Korvin."
She beat her wings, soared into the sky, and cried out. "Korvin,
you bastard! Where are you? Where are you?"
"Amity!"
Cade cried from below. "Hush! It's not safe."
But
the red dragon kept crying out, hovering above the ruins. The beating
of her wings blasted snow into the air, and the sound of her voice
sent drifts sliding down the slopes. "Korvin! Korvin, do you
hear me?"
"Amity!"
Cade said again, struggling to stay standing as the snow slid all
around him. He was about to take flight when a great chunk of snow,
loosened by Amity's uproar, crashed down the mountainside, revealing
. . .
"A
staircase!" Cade said. "Amity, look, there's a staircase
going into the mountain!"
She
landed back on the mountaintop, and the two dragons stared together.
The stairs were rough, carved from stone. The snow covered all but
the first three steps. Cade began to dig, his claws tossing back snow
and revealing more steps that led down into shadows.
He
returned to human form and began to climb downstairs. A moment later,
Amity followed.
They
found themselves in a dark, clammy cellar. Snow covered the floor and
frost coated the rough brick walls. A few discarded glass bottles,
the ash from pipes, and chicken bones lay in the corner, looking far
newer than these ancient ruins.
Cade
knelt by the trash. "Were the others here and left?"
Amity
kicked a few chicken bones aside and lifted fallen dice she found in
the corner. "Templer stuff. Soldiers were here, perhaps guarding
the mountaintop in the summer before the snow drove them out."
She lifted one of the bottles, dusted it off, and found it half full.
She tugged out the cork with her teeth, sniffed, and grinned.
"Brandy. Cheap brandy, but I'm not picky. You like brandy, kid?"
"I
don't know. Never tried it."
Amity
sat down with a groan, leaned against the wall, and splayed out her
legs. "Sit down and try it. We might be waiting here for a
while."
He
sat down, wincing. He was still scraped and bruised from the battle
in the gorge, every movement hurt, and the cold wasn't helping. He
leaned against the wall beside Amity and stretched out his legs too,
a little embarrassed that they didn't reach as far as hers.
Amity
took a sip, sloshed the drink in her mouth, and swallowed. "I've
had worse. I'm more of a rye drinker myself--brandy's for girls and
fancy folk--but it beats drinking melted snow." She passed Cade
the bottle. "Drink."
He
took the bottle, sipped, and wrinkled his nose. "It's too sweet
and . . . vinegary." He coughed and felt his cheeks flush.
Amity
laughed and pinched one of those cheeks. "You're turning into a
lobster already. This doesn't bode well. We've still got half a
bottle to drink." She drank again. "I don't intend to leave
any for the others when they get here."
Cade
lowered his head. "If they get here. I'm scared, Amity. We faced
so many of those bonedrakes and we barely escaped. If not for
crushing them in the cave, they'd have slain us in open sky. Every
minute without the other Vir Requis arriving, I worry. Sometimes I
wonder if they even made it across the sea at all, or if Mercy slew
them over the water."
Amity
passed him the bottle, and he drank a second time. It seemed less
sweet now, and he was grateful for the haze it was already bringing
to his head.
"My
parents died over the water, you know." Amity took the bottle
back and drank deeply, then wiped her lips. "Firedrakes burned
them down. It's always the stars-damn water where this shite
happens."
Cade
turned to look at her. Amity stared at the opposite wall, not turning
toward him, and still held the bottle. Her blond hair was damp with
the snow, falling across her ears and forehead, almost long enough
now to reach her chin. Beneath the grime of their journey, her cheeks
were flushed pink--whether from the cold, brandy, or memories, Cade
did not know. She had let her cloak fall open, revealing the leather
armor beneath. That armor was now shredded, its rents revealing
scabbed skin.
"I'm
sorry, Amity," Cade said softly.
She
spat across the room, almost hitting the opposite wall, and passed
him the bottle. "We all got these stories. You do too. So do all
Vir Requis these days. I just hope we're not the last." She gave
him a crooked smile and raised an eyebrow. "I'd hate to be stuck
here with you forever, the last two of our race, forced to breed and
continue the legacy of Requiem."
Cade's
cheeks now heated up even before he drank again. He raised the bottle
to his lips and gulped brandy. Amity burst out laughing.
"You're
blushing!" she said and mussed his hair.
"It's
the cold." He passed her the bottle. "And the drink."
She
took it from him but did not drink. Instead she stared at him, head
lowered, smile crooked. She reached out and caressed one of those
blushing cheeks of his.
"You're
cute when you blush."
"You're
. . . cute when you're not . . . yelling. Which is rare."
Her
hand strayed down to rest on his thigh, and she leaned against him.
She drank again, then passed him the bottle, and he drank deeply.
"We
might be the last," she whispered into his ear. "The last
two Vir Requis, all the others gone, doomed to remain here forever,
two survivors, alone in the cold."
He
gulped. What cold? He felt hotter than dragonfire, especially his
thigh where her hand still rested. With her other hand, she turned
his head toward her.
"I'm
not cold," he said. He could think of nothing better to say.
"Neither
am I," she whispered, leaned forward, and kissed his cheek.
Heat
exploded across Cade's body. What was Amity doing? What was
he
doing, sitting pressed against her, and why was he suddenly stroking
her hair? Why was he suddenly kissing her, and why was the bottle
rolling away from them, and why were her arms around his back, his
arms around her, their mouths locked together?
"I
want to make you forget all your pain," Amity said. "I want
to have one last night of warmth with you, Cade. The world might
freeze or burn tomorrow. If we're to end, let us end like this."
This
was wrong. He knew it was wrong.
"But
. . . Domi," he said. "Korvin. They--"
"They're
not married to us." Amity spoke between kisses. "We are
free souls, Cade! Two free adults, and you're an adult now too. Show
me what you know how to do." She nibbled his bottom lip,
grinning. "And let me teach you the rest."
Her
hands tugged at his clothes, and he shut his eyes, and he forgot
about everything but her.
Cade
had made love before--to Domi out in the field, and it had been a
gentle, beautiful, tender thing, a thing of grass and dawn and
softness. There was nothing gentle, tender, or soft about Amity. They
moved together like wild beasts. She growled, scratched her
fingernails down his back, bruised his body as they rolled, tangled
together, kissing, biting, scratching, forgetting, drowning their
pain in the heat and passion. And soon he forgot about the war. And
soon he forgot about Domi. All he knew was Amity's body against him,
sweeter and more intoxicating than the brandy.
Finally--it
felt like hours later--they lay side by side, naked under a cloak.
Amity gulped down the last of the brandy.
"Wish
I had a pipe," she said.
Cade
began to pull his clothes back on, and suddenly guilt filled
him--guilt greater than the cold, the lingering sweetness of Amity's
lovemaking, or the brandy still floating in his head. He loved Domi!
Didn't he? He had made love to her in the field last autumn, and now
. . . how could he have done this?
Yet
when he looked back at Amity, his blood heated again. His eyes
strayed down to her nakedness, and already he wanted to make love to
her again. Domi had been delicate, almost fragile, a pale little
doll, but Amity was wild and fiery and Cade gulped. What if they
were
the last? What if he could do that again and again with Amity, and--
A
distant shriek, coming from outside the cellar, interrupted his
thoughts.
Cade
froze.
"Bonedrakes,"
he whispered.
Amity
leaped to her feet, snarling, and tugged on her armor and cloak. She
made to leap toward the staircase and race outside.
"Wait!"
Cade whispered, holding her back. "Wait and hide. It might not
know we're here."
They
drew their swords--curved blades they had carried all the way from
Terra--and stood together in the cellar, facing the stairway. The
screech rose again from outside, curdling Cade's blood. Both he and
Amity grimaced. Tendrils of ice spread across the cellar's bricks.
The bonedrake was drawing nearer, blasting out cold even worse than
the winter.
It
screeched again. The sound shook the cellar. Chunks of ice fell down
the stairs. The walls creaked and a brick cracked. Cade covered his
ears, almost dropping his sword, and the screech rose again and
again, getting closer.
"It
can smell us," Amity muttered. "We fight it outside. You
with me Cade?"
He
nodded. "We race out and I'll shift. You ride me and try to stab
the glowing light in its chest."
They
took deep breaths and began to race up the stairs.
They
had only climbed five steps when the bonedrake thrust its skull down
the staircase. Lights blazed in its eye sockets and gullet.
"Back!"
Cade shouted, leaping downstairs and tugging Amity with him.
Light
gathered and beamed out from the bonedrake's jaws.
Cade
and Amity fell to the floor and rolled aside.
The
beam drove across the chamber and slammed into the opposite wall,
melting the bricks, digging a hole into the stone. Cade grimaced,
nearly deafened, nearly blind. He realized he had dropped his sword.
He pushed himself against the wall beside the staircase, unable to
stifle a scream as the light kept crashing into the chamber.
"Amity!"
he shouted over the shrieking light. "Amity, are you there?"
Her
cry rose from the other side of the beam. She too was pressed against
the wall. "I'm here! Wait till the light dies and charge at it!"