Dragonseed (56 page)

“Don’t panic!” he shouted, praying he could be heard above the din. “Don’t panic! Grab the injured and carry them! Everyone into the foundry!”

With its sturdy brick walls, the foundry could withstand anything the dragons cared to throw at them.

Ragnar looked down at Anza, sprawled at his feet. “See the evil you have brought upon us with your blasphemy! The Lord strikes down all unbelievers!”

At that moment, a big white square of ceramic-glazed steel slammed into the back of the prophet’s shaggy skull, bouncing off. The prophet’s eyes narrowed as he remained on his feet. The sink clanged on the hard-packed earth behind him.

The look of perpetual rage on the prophet’s face vanished as his brow and jaw went slack. His eyes rolled up into his head and he dropped to his knees, falling forward over Anza’s legs. Anza kicked herself free and sprang to her feet, clutching her limp left arm with her right hand.

Panic spread through the crowd like a wave, even though the initial volley from the catapult was spent. The skies were empty for the moment.

Burke fired his shotgun into the air. “Listen to me!” he screamed so loudly he was certain he tore something in his throat.

Stonewall leapt over Ragnar to stand on the lip of the well. He shouted with a voice that rivaled the fallen prophet in both volume and authority: “Pay attention!” To Burke’s great relief, it worked. The crowd turned their eyes toward Stonewall.

“You heard the man,” said the giant. “Everyone into the foundry. Carry the wounded. No one gets left behind.”

Anza looked up. “Fadder!” she shouted.

More shrapnel was darkening the sky.

“Take cover!” Burke barked out, though there was precious little cover to be had in the middle of the town square. The men nearest the foundry peeled off, vanishing into its shadowy reaches. Jeremiah flew toward the foundry and Poocher darted after him. Vance shot skyward, and Thorny hopped down and pressed himself against the wall of the well. Stonewall held up his shield like a giant umbrella.

Anza grabbed her fallen sword with her good arm and leapt into the air, her wings unfolding, as the second volley smashed into the crowd. Sparks flew as a large rusty bolt ricocheted from Anza’s wings. She flashed toward Stonewall and pressed herself against him, pushing him over a few inches. Stonewall let out a loud grunt as a fist-sized chunk of scrap banged off his shield.

Men dove into any doorway available. Anguished howls of pain rose from those struck by the falling metal.

Luck alone spared Burke. “The foundry! The foundry! You’ll be safe in the foundry!”

More men began to run for its darkened interior.

Stonewall looked up as the rain of metal died off. “What about the defenders on the walls?” Almost simultaneously, Vance, fifty yards above, shouted, “The earth-dragons are charging the gates!”

“Get the men off the walls,” said Burke. “Let the dragons in.”

“Come down from the walls!” Stonewall shouted. “Everyone into the foundry!”

“You too, Vance,” said Burke. “Get down here.”

“Someone has to go stop those catapults,” said Vance.

“You won’t stop them with a bow and arrows,” said Burke. He glanced at Anza. “Despite what you’re thinking, you won’t stop them with a sword.”

She grimaced.

Joab leaned over Ragnar’s form. “He’s still breathing!”

“Get him into the foundry. We only have a minute before the next volley.”

“Seconds,” Vance shouted down. “Here it comes!”

Burke didn’t look at the sky. Instead, he shouted, “Take cover!” aand he, too, darted for the foundry. As he zoomed toward it, he saw that the normally shadowy interior was bright as day. He remembered that the visor he wore allowed him to see in darkness.

He hovered above the crowed huddled into the foundry. “You men in back!” he shouted. “Get into the store room and bring out every gun you can. I know some of you have been trained in how to use them. I’m sorry more of you haven’t. If we live through this, I promise that every single one of you will be given a gun and taught to use it.”

“I’ve already got a gun!” a man shouted.

“Me too,” echoed at least a dozen others.

Burke nodded.

Vance and Anza drew up beside him in the air.

“I could… break… a cat-uh-polt,” she said, sounding out her words carefully as she held up her sword.

“I have no doubt you could do real damage to one if you got up close,” said Burke. “But you’re not getting up close. You and Vance are going wipe out the catapults from the air. Thorny, too.”

Thorny shook his head. “I can’t fly again, Burke. I’m just not built for it.” He reached behind his back and pulled the silver disk free.

“Give it to Stonewall,” Burke said.

Stonewall was just entering the open door of the foundry. He carried two fallen men over his shoulders, and was helping a third man limp along on a bleeding leg.

“These are the same sorts of wings Shay used,” said Stonewall, eying the disk he was offered. “Is he with you?”

“He had business elsewhere,” said Burke. “You’re now drafted to the air team.”

“I don’t—”

“You’ll figure it out. The wings respond to thought. You seem good at thinking.”

Stonewall placed the men he carried onto the ground. Thorny handed him the silver disk.

“Get the doors closed,” Burke snapped as metal once again rained down onto the streets outside. He felt sick at all the bodies left behind. Aside from the dead and dying, the square was now empty.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled as a loud
WHOOM
! rang from the northern gate.

“Battering ram,” said Stonewall.

“Hammer,” said Burke, remembering the beast that had broken the bridge.

Jeremiah moved among the wounded men and offered them the dragonseeds. Burke could think of no rational reason he should be afraid of the seeds, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if this was all part of some greater scheme of Blasphet’s. It was a bad moment to be having doubts.

Guns were handed out from the door in the back of the room that ran to the warehouse. Below him, the men gazed up with hopeful eyes.

“Gentlemen,” he said, as a second
WHOOM
! rose from the northern gate, “Let’s go over the plan.”

“There’s a plan?” asked Vance.

Burke allowed himself a small grin. “There’s always a plan.”

SAWFACE STRUCK THE
northern gate a second time, with a shout that would have made an ox-dog flee with its tail between its legs. He didn’t like to have to hit things a second time. It made him angry.

The gate tore from its hinges and fell, raising a cloud of dust.

The earth-dragons at his back let up a loud cheer.

“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Sawface jumped onto the fallen gate and charged.

He ran down the central avenue toward the well. The footfalls of the army he led sounded like thunder. It enraged him that there were no living humans visible, only hundreds of freshly slain bodies still bleeding in the dust.

“GRRRRRRREEEAAAA!” he cried out, as he smashed his hammer down onto the stone lip of the well. The wall shattered, sending shards of stone heavenward. He swung around and banged the shattered wall with his thick tail and watched as a long section of it tumbled into the black pit of the well. The collapse of the well brought him no satisfaction. He needed blood! He needed to see the fear in a man’s eyes in the second before he crushed his skull!

On the second floor of the foundry, a window swung open. A short man with a wispy mustache fired an arrow that whistled toward Sawface. It landed at the exact tip of his boney snout, quivering between his nostrils.

Sawface tore the arrow free and charged the foundry. He slammed his hammer into the brick wall. Cracks ran up the mortar to the window where the man stood.

“Idiot,” the man called down. “Too dumb to use the door.”

“RRRRRAAAAAAAAUUUUUHHHH!” screamed Sawface. The mammal dared taunt him! He spun around and looked into the eyes of the earth-dragon immediately behind him. The soldier was half his size, heavily armored in plates of thick steel. He snatched the soldier by the arm and said, “BRING HIM TO ME!”

He threw the soldier with all his strength at the window.

The man who taunted him turned pale and jumped back into the room.

The earth-dragon smashed into the wall a foot below the window with a loud crash, then dropped back to the earth at Sawface’s feet. Blood poured from his mouth.

“EEERRRRRRAAAAAAAAGGAA!” Sawface screamed as he spun back to face the soldiers behind him. As one, they all jumped back a full yard. They stared at him with wide eyes.

“GAAAAAHHRRRR!” he cried out as he barreled toward them. The soldiers parted, and then quickly closed in behind him as he ran around the side of the foundry toward the great central doors. He swung his hammer with every fiber of rage he could muster. The double doors flew apart in a spray of splinters.

He leapt into the darkness beyond, halting for the briefest second as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. He was hungry to find a target as quickly as possible. Behind him, he heard the clatter and clang of his Wasters as they, too, paused at the door.

Before him was a wall of men, at least a hundred, crouched down on their knees, pointing rods of iron at him.

Behind them were a hundred more men standing, also pointing iron rods. He recognized these pieces of metal. They were the bang sticks that had killed so many of his brothers at the battle near the river.

Above the twin rows was a man with wings.

“Now,” said the man.

Sawface heard the
SNICK
of two hundred pieces of flint striking steel in unison. He heard the
SSSSS
and saw the dancing sparks as ten-score flash-pans sizzled to life.

“Raaar?” he whispered.

THE THUNDEROUS REPORT
deafened Burke, but the visor protected him from the flash. He saw in crystal clarity the heavy iron head of Sawface’s hammer drop through the pink mist where the beast had just stood. The anvil-shaped metal bounced in curious silence next to the claw prints on the stone floor.

Beyond, a dozens of earth-dragons writhed in agony as their horrified companions looked on. The sky-wall team must have heard the guns go off—for that matter, the men on the moon must have heard the gun go off. But it was the sky-wall team that poured to the windows and roof and began to fire arrows into the dragons in the street. The arrows flew so rapidly they looked like flashes of light in Burke’s visor. Above the ringing in his ears, he began to faintly hear the familiar song of the bows—
zing zing zing zing zing!

The earth dragons screamed as a single chorus. Never before had Burke heard such music.

In thirty seconds, it was over. Not a single earth-dragon on the street outside the foundry was left alive.

“The sky-dragons will see this,” Burke shouted. “They’re free to use the catapults again. Bombers! Go!”

VULPINE LIFTED HIS
head as he heard a thunder similar to the one that accompanied the explosion at the bridge.

Sagen said, “Did the humans have a second war machine?”

“Possibly,” said Vulpine. “It sounds as if this one fared no better than the first.”

Seconds later, wisps of white smoke rose into the air near the foundry.

Odd.
With an explosion of this size, he would have expected black smoke.

He looked up at the sky-dragon spotters high overhead. All had their necks craned toward the city as they rode the wind. Suddenly, one broke off and dove toward them. It was a member of the aerial guard. The sky-dragon spread his wings fifty feet above the ground and parachuted to a halt on the red-clay earth by the catapult. “The earth-dragons have been massacred!”

“What?” said Vulpine, finding the dragon’s exaggeration amusing. “In the three minutes since they knocked open the gate?”

The dragon shook his head. “In the thirty seconds after they reached the foundry.”

“Are they in retreat?”

The sky-dragon sounded angry. “I mean, sir, that every last earth-dragon that followed Sawface has been killed.”

Vulpine’s voice caught in his throat. In the distance, he spotted the angels shooting into the air, straight up, one, two, three, four, five of them. They rose at an impossible speed until they vanished in the bright sky above.

Arifiel, who was with them at the command post, turned and said, “As of now, the valkyries are no longer part of this mission.”

“What?” asked Vulpine.

“Has age dulled your ears?” Arifiel asked. “An angel came to the defense of the Nest. I’m alive because that angel saved me after I’d been badly burned. I was uncomfortable this morning when I saw the angels. They look different from the one who saved me, but their wings are the same. Now, the angels have come to the defense of Dragon Forge.”

“And it’s your duty to fight them!” said Vulpine.

“No, sir,” said Arifiel. “A valkyrie’s first loyalty is to the Nest. The Nest survives due to angelic intervention. Now, they have chosen to defend Dragon Forge. I don’t know what their purpose is. But there are mysterious forces at work here, and I don’t intend to leave those forces angry at the Nest.”

“Arifiel!” said Sagen. “Such cowardice!”

“It’s not cowardice that guides my judgment,” said Arifiel. “It’s—”

She never finished her sentence.

Vulpine’s jaws closed around her throat quicker than she could react. He felt her swallow against his tongue. He whipped his head violently to the side, tearing away her windpipe.

She dropped to the ground, dying; bright red blood surged from the long rip in her pale blue throat. Vulpine spit away the bits of scaly hide that clung to his teeth.

“You’re now in command of the valkyries,” Vulpine said to Sagen.

Sagen looked pale as he stared at his father’s bloody mouth.

“What if she’s right?” Sagen asked. “What if there are forces at work here we don’t understand?”

Vulpine’s anger welled. “Of course there are forces here we don’t understand! Wars unfold in a great fog, and any dragon who thinks he can see the grand picture is a fool!” He shook his head. “As I have been a fool,” he whispered.