City of Death (23 page)

The position looked uncomfortable, and from the way the dragon's body trembled, it didn't seem like she could keep it up for much longer. This was one more score to settle with Roland and Badik as well as the vizier.

“How do we get Bayang out?” Leech wondered.

“Could you shrink some more?” Kles asked the dragon.

The dragon was shaking with fatigue now. “There's a second spell on this cage that keeps me from working magic. They must have shrunk me to this size while I was out and then put me in here.”

Koko closed the door and braced a chair underneath the doorknob. “Well, you better come up with something fast.”

Scirye bent over so she could peer up at the underside of the cage. The bars arched from a ring at the top down to a wider ring at the bottom. The cage's floor was screwed on to the lower ring. “I bet we can loosen the base.”

“No, don't touch the cage,” Bayang said, worried.

“We've come too far and done too much just to leave you here.” When Scirye set the tip of the dagger against the first screw, she felt a shock.
Bayang put up with a lot worse,
she told herself, and trying to ignore the pain, began to turn the screw counterclockwise.

Her hands were aching by the time the first screw dropped out. “Let me do the next one,” Leech said, taking out his dagger.

There were four screws in all, and Scirye spelled Leech with the third one. Though it was slower, she used her left hand this time.

When the third screw fell away from the cage, there was a slight gap between its base and the bottom ring. Scirye began to massage her hands, feeling the ache leave quickly.

Licking his lips, Leech began to work on the last screw, but he had no more given it several turns when Koko called softly from the doorway. “Someone's coming.” From the hallway, they could hear the guards' booted feet thudding on the floor.

“I've had enough of this,” Leech said. Sheathing his knife, he grabbed the cage with one hand and the base with the other. He cried out with shock and began to shake.

“Are you mad?” Kles asked anxiously. “Let go.”

“Yes, get away while you can,” Bayang urged.

“Not without you,” Leech said. Gritting his teeth, he pulled at the base. Crying out as metal screeched and the gap widened.

“That'll do,” Bayang said. Letting go of the perch, she thumped against the bottom of the cage, writhing in agony at the contact. And yet her claws didn't stop scrabbling toward the gap until she slithered through.

Scirye was ready with outstretched hands, catching the dragon neatly. Gently, she cradled her pain-wracked friend against her stomach.

Bayang looked over at Leech and then up at her. The dragon was more concerned by her friends' injuries than her own. “Are … are you all right?” she asked.

“My hands are just a little sore,” Scirye said.

Leech was flexing his fingers. “Same here.”

“Then set me down on the floor,” Bayang said as she sat up on Scirye's palms.

“But you're hurt,” Scirye protested.

The dragon flinched when she tried to shrug. “What's a few more aches and pains if it can keep my friends alive?”

When Scirye had obeyed Bayang, the dragon began to move her paws in the magical gestures, but it was without her usual grace and speed. And she was panting by the time she began to shimmer at the finish of the spell. The iridescent cloud swelled.

“Out of the way,” Koko said as he backed up hastily. Running to Leech, Scirye helped him get on all fours so he could scramble away in a half-run, half-crawl.

The next moment, the cloud solidified into about ten feet of very solid dragon. “Ah, that's better,” she declared as she knocked tables and chairs over with loud crashes. “Koko, get the axes.”

The badger fetched the sacred weapons, and after everyone had climbed onto her back, they all crouched low as the dragon slithered through a hole she had made in the wall.

As they slipped out into the cold night air, the door crashed open behind them. “Shoot, shoot,” one of the guards shouted.

Bullets spanged the dirt behind them as Bayang began to gallop toward the lake.

 

42

Scirye

As Bayang limped along a path past the shrubs and toward the lake, M
ā
ka and Tute raced toward them across the empty flower beds. M
ā
ka's gaudy robe was torn and muddy and the lynx's ear was notched by a cut. “So you're still alive,” Tute called. The lynx seemed genuinely surprised.

“I'm glad I can say the same thing about you,” Scirye said, giving the sorceress a hug. “So your spells worked?”

M
ā
ka blushed. “No, but my club did the trick.”

Bayang swung her head around at a loud splash and stared at the roiling surface of the lake. “What's going on?”

“It's Nandi,” Scirye said.

The dragon scratched her cheek with a rasping sound of claw on scale. “Who or what is Nandi?”

Suddenly the makara burst out of the lake, wagging its head from side to side, but Nandi was still wrapped around it like a silvery scarf.

“Nandi's the guy acting like a blindfold,” Koko said.

“He's Upach's brother,” Scirye explained. “Prince Tarkhun's great-aunt, Princess Catisa, sent him and the butterflies to help us. He started fighting the makara so we could rescue you. He must not be strong enough to kill it, but he can confuse it.”

“Princess? Butterflies?” Bayang asked and then raised a paw. “Never mind. You better tell me later. But this is going to be some story.”

Bullets pinged against the path's flagstones from the mansion. “First, I'll get you all to safety,” Bayang said. “Then I'll help this Nandi.” Bayang tried to gallop, but her stiff legs only managed a shambling trot.

Shots sent dirt spurting up from the flower bed next to them. A squad of guardsmen were aiming their rifles at them.

“I'll distract these pests,” Kles said, wheeling around.

“No, Kles, it's too dangerous,” Scirye called.

“I can't let them shoot you,” he said as he flew back toward the guards on the path.

She consoled herself with the fact that though his fur and feathers were ruffled, they weren't puffed out, which meant he wasn't lost in his battle rage. “Then don't be a hero. Leave as soon as we're safe.”

She felt a lump in her throat as her friend dove toward the guards' heads, disrupting their aim.
Was there ever a braver griffin?
she wondered to herself. Unable to shoot the griffin when he was right among them, two of the frustrated guards swung their rifles like clubs. Kles dodged their blows as he clawed at faces, bit hands, struck stunning blows with his wings, and created havoc wherever he could.

All she could do now was face forward as Bayang swung her wings over them protectively and surged into the lake.

 

43

Bayang

The lake was cold, but Bayang was used to the chilly depths of the sea, so the waters seemed like a warm bath that eased some of her aches away. She was free now and back with her hatchlings and she would never lose them again, and that determination refreshed her spirit just as the lake renewed her body.

She thought again of Leech's face as he tried to rip the bottom from the cage. He had been in such pain that she felt guilty for thinking that Lee No Cha had woken up. Lee would never have sacrificed himself for a dragon that way.

Churning up the lake's surface, the makara was shaking its head back and forth like a metronome with Nandi's silvery body wrapped around its head like a thin scarf. From the island, she could see the guards running onto the bridge, followed by the vizier. “Hurry, set up the machine gun,” the vizier ordered shrilly.

Bayang's heart sank when she saw a pair of guards lift up a long weapon, resting the bipod near the gun muzzle on the bridge balustrade.

“Time to play submarine,” Koko urged.

Before Bayang could submerge, though, the vizier began shouting, “Go way!”

She twisted her head around on her long neck to see him waving his arms frantically at the makara bearing down toward him.

The monster shook its head in frustration, and Bayang saw that Nandi's misty tendrils were pulling at the makara's nostrils just as a bull was led by a ring through its nose.

Waves rose higher and higher before the makara's body like an ocean linger plowing forward relentlessly.

“Never mind the trespassers for now. Everyone shoot at the makara!” the vizier cried.

The guards turned their rifles on the beast and soon the machine gun was chattering away, sending a rain of bullets at the makara. Mist spurted up where they entered Nandi and then sprayed up again as the ricochets from the makara's hide exited again through the ifrit.

The makara shook and shuddered from the hail of bullets, but goaded by Nandi, the monster churned on. Scirye couldn't see blood, but the bullets must have stung like insect bites because the monster was bellowing in rage.

Just before the makara reached the bridge, the cloudy ifrit shot skyward, leaving the furious beast to crash into the center of the bridge. Mortar crumbled and heavy stones flew about like toy blocks. As the bridge fell apart beneath them, men cried out in fear as they plunged into the icy water.

The makara towered above the lake for a moment, stunned by its sudden freedom and the silence and then lunged forward, wanting to take out its revenge on the nearest target.

Unfortunately for the vizier, he happened to be the closest as he splashed desperately for his island.

He had just enough time to holler, “No, go away. I'm your master.”

But the great jaws closed around him, and his scream ended in a gurgle as the makara dove toward the depths of the lake, taking its latest victim along with it.

 

44

Scirye

The exhausted dragon's paws slid in the mud on the far shore, so she reared up out of the lake instead and threw herself onto the slope, crawling on her belly like a humble slug behind a clump of bushes.

Scirye and the others slid off the dragon's back. Though Bayang had tried to keep them dry, their legs were wet, but even though Scirye was shivering a little, she was more concerned for her friend. “You need to rest.”

Bayang sighed as she wriggled her shoulders. “There's an undersea volcano with these wonderful healing mud pits back at home. What I wouldn't give to soak in the ooze.”

Scirye felt a little twinge, remembering that poor Bayang could never go there again. In disobeying her orders to kill Leech, the dragon had become an outlaw in the eyes of her clan.

“The main thing is that you're alive,” Scirye said, hugging the dragon. “When this is over, we'll find you a whole health spa with mud baths and massages—though I'm not sure how you massage a dragon through her scales.”

“Try a sledgehammer,” Koko said. “And don't forget your other promise when we're finished. I finally get to eat everything I want.”

Despite everything, they were all feeling cheerful because they were together again. “Maybe not everything,” Scirye laughed, “or you'll burst.”

“But what a way to go,” Koko said.

Kles came skimming low over the bushes, fresh from his skirmish. Scirye held up her arm. “Welcome home.”

He brushed his head against her sleeve in answer as a silvery cloud descended next to them.

The dragon raised her head wearily. “How do you do? You must be Nandi.”

“And you must be Bayang.” The cloud rippled with amusement. “Do the children always get you into so much mischief?”

“They've gotten me into a lot worse than this,” Bayang chuckled.

“Yes, I heard about the volcano,” Nandi said and suddenly began to rise. “Can you fight, dragon? It looks like the vizier has reinforcements coming.”

Tilting back her head, Scirye saw five griffin riders dropping in a vee formation out of the sky. At the apex was a great white griffin that could only be Árkwi. And that meant the rider could only be her father, and mounted on the black griffin to his right would be her mother. Oko flew to her right while Wali and Kat formed the left side of the vee.

“Wait, Nandi,” Scirye said. “They're friends.”

Snow billowed upward from the griffins' great wings as they landed gracefully, but Scirye was already running through the spray of snowflakes.

Lord Tsirauñe kicked his feet free from the stirrups and jumped down beside her. “You certainly make life interesting, girl.
Oof!
” he said as Scirye wrapped her arms around him.

Scirye pressed her face into her father's leather riding coat. For the first time in many hours, she felt safe.

After a minute or so, she felt the rumble of her father's voice. “And who is this?” he asked.

Scirye turned to see Nandi floating politely behind her. He'd taken the form of a sphere. “Father, this is Nandi the ifrit who's been a big help to us. Princess Catisa sent him.”

“I thank you and your mistress then,” her father said with a bow.

With the same grace that she brought to everything, Lady Sudarshane swung her leg over her saddle and slid off Kwele to the ground. Her flying suit made her look more like a rough-and-tumble pirate than a diplomat. “I hope our daughter hasn't been making too much trouble for you?”

The globe of mist bent over almost double in Nandi's own version of a bow. “Judging from her character, it was probably no more than usual.”

Lord Tsirauñe folded his arms as he regarded Scirye. “You've scared us half to death, young lady.”

“I didn't mean to,” Scirye said in a small voice.

Her mother tapped Scirye on her nose. “Innocent intentions are no excuse. Most of the guard and the garrison have been turned out to hunt for you.”