Dragonforge (8 page)

Behind him, he heard the splashes of the first woman climbing from the pool.

“Ladies,” he said, raising his hands, backing away, turning in a slow circle. No matter which direction he looked, there was always one just out of sight. “I’m sure we can talk this out.”

The women responded with laughter, spitting blood.

Jandra could hear
her killer in the outer hall. More guards had come in response to the commotion. One by one, their armored bodies crashed heavily to the ground.

If only she could have known the poison they were using, perhaps it wasn’t too late to command the microscopic machinery that swam in her blood to form an antidote. At the thought, a single molecule came into focus before her, enormously magnified. The years Vendevorex forced her to study chemistry proved useful. She recognized the molecule as an organic alkaloid. The long chain of atoms was coiled like a serpent about to strike. The poison was made of dozens of carbon and hydrogen atoms, tangled together with a few oxygen and nitrogen atoms. Just two nitrogens, in fact. The molecule would be easy to break at these points. In her mind’s eye, one of the tiny machines that swam in her bloodstream darted forward and snapped the molecule in two with its infinitesimal claws. She imagined the action being repeated through her body.

An instant later her heart beat. It was a feeble flutter, faint at first, but it grew stronger. Air gushed back into her lungs. The fingers of her left hand wriggled. Her right hand, which had taken the knife thrust, remained limp and useless. She sat up, woozy, and found herself staring at Ledax’s lifeless body.

Or was it lifeless? Was he paralyzed as she had been, slowly suffocating? She saw the puncture wound in his shoulder. She jammed two fingers into the hole. It was as if her fingertips were covered by a million tiny eyes. She found the same poison in his blood, which now lay stagnant inside him. She willed the microscopic machinery within her to leach from her pores to attack the poison inside Ledax. Nothing happened as the seconds ticked by. Her own blood had been full of the devices necessary to fight the poison. The earth-dragon lacked this advantage. She knew she should give up, abandon him, and go in search of the assassin. Yet, there was a look in the earth-dragon’s desperate eyes that told her that some spark of life still burned within him. Her heart leapt as those eyes blinked. Ledax gasped as his lungs stirred back to life.

Confident that her devices were working to save Ledax, Jandra struggled to her feet. Her dizziness was fading but her right hand was still limp. She studied the wound. Her eyes focused on such fine detail she felt as if she was examining her hand under a magnifying lens. She could see how each side of the puncture wound fit together, skin cell to skin cell, nerve to nerve, with each torn blood vessel having a perfect mate across the gap. Willing the matched cells to reconnect, the wound closed over in less than a minute, leaving a ragged scar. She wriggled her tingling fingers. She liked this new helmet!

With a killer in the castle, there was no time to dwell on her new-found powers. She chased down the hall, listening for any clue. She found the still bodies of two earth-dragon guards as she turned a corner. There was perhaps still time to save them, but if she tarried, how many more dragons would the assassin reach? Clenching her fists, she made the bitter determination that it was a higher priority to stop the assassin than to heal the dying. She ran faster, her strength fully restored, all traces of the poison gone.

She raced around one more corner and found the assassin surrounded by the bodies of three more guards. It looked as if one had gotten in a blow, for the tattooed girl was bleeding profusely from a gash across her ribs. As Jandra ran toward her the girl looked up, her eyes still full of the same dark hatred. Yet now something new flashed within them: confusion.

“Ah ough ah ill ooo,” the girl grumbled.

“You thought you killed me?” Jandra asked, drawing up short, her eyes focused on the deadly blade. Jandra no longer feared the poison, but she wasn’t anxious to be stabbed again. It was time to attempt a feat she’d witnessed Vendevorex perform many times. She dipped her fingers into the pouch of silver powder that hung at her side, then flicked her fingers toward the girl. She waited several seconds as she and the girl circled each other, their eyes locked. The girl seemed wary, as if she were facing a ghost.

The microscopic dust settled over the dagger. Vendevorex had been able to command the particles to instantly decay matter. Jandra reached out with her mind, willing the dagger to crumble to rust.

The dagger glowed with an internal fire, then began to crack and crumble. The fire didn’t stop at the dagger, however. The girl dropped the weapon and wailed, shaking her hand as if it were in terrible pain. As she shook, the skin of her hand unraveled, the flesh falling away in damp nuggets until she was waving fingers of bone.

Blood gushed from her wrist as Jandra watched in horror. The glow continued up her arm. Jandra reached out, trying to find all the particles with her mind, commanding them to stop. The girl fell to the floor, her right arm now nothing but bone. The flesh of her shoulder bubbled, but the girl had stopped screaming. Jandra finally brought the reaction under control, but it was too late. The girl was dead, with a good portion of her right rib cage exposed. Jandra turned away, sick to her stomach, as the girl’s blood pooled across the floor. She slumped against the wall, welcoming the coolness of the stone. The sound of the girl’s dying agony still echoed in her ears. Only, as she listened closer, she realized it wasn’t the girl’s death cry she was hearing. Another girl was screaming, several of them in fact. There was more than one assassin in the castle.

There would be time to feel sick later. Now, she clenched her fists and ran toward the noise.

Pet weighed his odds. He was confident he could deal with any given girl. It was just a question of how quickly the other two would move to attack when he acted. The two that Shandrazel had fought were wounded. The bitten girl grew paler with each step as her wounds trickled wet red ribbons across her breasts and belly. The other girl was limping after her collision with the column. So, the greatest threat was the girl he’d tripped. He tilted his head to see her movements from the corner of his eye. She was growing closer… closer… and then, she leapt.

Pet whirled, slapping the knife from his attacker’s hand. Before she could react he swung his fist in a roundhouse punch, catching her on the chin, putting his full weight into it. The blow numbed his arm. The girl spun backward, stumbling, her arms flopping limply. He was certain he’d knocked her out. Unfortunately, she stayed on her feet and turned around to face him, her eyes full of hatred. She stood next to one of the decorative marble columns and placed one hand on it to steady herself. She used her other hand to wipe the blood from her mouth. Pet’s eyes flickered over the bricks. Where had her knife flown to? If he turned his back on her…

Suddenly, a heavy flower pot dropped parallel to the marble column, crashing into the girl’s head, smashing into a hundred fragments. The girl toppled sideways, her legs twitching.

Pet looked up. Androkom perched atop the marble pillar, his eyes wide with fear. “Watch out!” he shouted.

Pet spun to find the limping assassin barely a yard away. Her blade cut the air as Pet jerked away, the tip missing his throat by inches. His feet carried him backward, trying to open some space between him and the girl. Unfortunately, the enormous towel he was wrapped in wound up under his feet and he tripped, falling to his back. The girl loomed over him, raising her blade high.

Then, suddenly, her blade was gone, along with most of her hand. She lowered the stump of her wrist, staring at the blood jetting out with each heartbeat. She grew white as Pet’s towel as her eyes fluttered up in her head. As she fell, Pet saw a familiar figure behind her.

“Jandra!” he yelled out. “There’s a third one! Be careful!”

“Where?” said Jandra, her eyes scanning the room.

“She’s behind that column,” Androkom yelled, pointing with his wing.

Jandra crept toward the marble pillar as Pet found his footing. He cinched the towel up higher as he, too, approached the column, his eyes alert for any movement.

Rounding the column at a respectful distance, Pet found the final assassin sitting with her back to the marble, her legs splayed before her, her arms hanging limply by her side. She was shivering, and her skin had taken on a bluish cast. She held the black dagger loosely in her right hand.

“Drop the knife,” Jandra said.

“She’s dying,” Pet said.

“I see that,” Jandra said, sounding annoyed. Then, to the girl once more, “I can save your life. Just put down the knife.”

The girl cocked her head toward Jandra, fixing her vacant, dying gaze upon her. A smile played briefly upon her lips. Her mouth moved as if she was saying something, but no sound came out, only a gush of fresh blood. With a final burst of strength, the girl raised her blade, grasped it with both hands, and plunged it into her left breast, burying it to the hilt.

Her head drooped as her arms fell to her side, a final sigh bubbling from her lips.

“These were servants of the Murder God!” Androkom shouted from his perch. “Suicide assassins! There could be a whole army of them!”

“Let’s hope there’s just the four,” Jandra said, running to Shandrazel. “How long since he was stabbed?”

“Only a few minutes,” said Pet. “Four assassins? I counted three.”

“I killed one upstairs,” she said as she ran her hands over Shandrazel’s hide. “Where was he stabbed? I need to touch his blood.”

“He was struck in the jaw,” Androkom called out.

Jandra ran her hands along the line of his long, crocodilian jaw. “Found it!” she shouted as her fingers wriggled into the stab wound. “He’s still alive,” she said, seconds later. “I’ll need a moment to find all the poison.”

Pet stood over her, looking at himself reflected in her silver helmet. “This is a new look for you,” he said. “I liked the tiara more. But the skirt does show off your calves.”

“Can we discuss my wardrobe another time?”

Pet shrugged, then went back to check on the other two assassins. The girl who’d been hit by the flower pot was obviously dead, the top of her skull dented in. He moved to the second one, kneeling beside her. Blood no longer spurted from her wrist. He placed his fingers on her throat, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. She’d lost too much blood.

“Too bad we didn’t take one alive,” said Pet. “We could have found out what they’re here for.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Androkom said. “They’re here to free the Murder God! Damn Shandrazel! I told him to kill that monster.”

Shandrazel mumbled, his jaws barely moving, “I will… consider your counsel.”

There was a commotion in the hall, the heavy slapping sound of earth-dragons running at full speed, their weapons and armor clattering. Two of them burst into the courtyard, shouting, “Sire! Sire!”

Shandrazel raised his head slowly, an effort that seemed to require all his strength. Jandra, her fingers still in his wound, looked almost as if she moved his head like some oversized puppet.

“Hold still,” she grumbled.

“Sire,” the first guard said, skidding to a halt in front of Shandrazel. “Blasphet is no longer in his cell!”

“I knew it!” Androkom said, vindicated.

“We found these,” the second guard said as he reached Shandrazel. He held out his arm and opened his claw. In the palm sat several pale lumps of torn flesh. Pet stepped closer, then recoiled when his eyes finally solved the puzzle of what he was seeing. The dragon was holding severed human tongues.

“They cut out their own tongues so they couldn’t talk if they were captured,” Androkom said.

Pet looked back at pale pink lumps in morbid fascination. Many tongues had been in his mouth over the years. He doubted he could ever kiss anyone again without thinking of this. Then he realized that the silent tongues had one more bit of information to confess, as he counted them. “There’s one more assassin,” he said. “We’ve killed four, but there are five tongues.”

A large shadow fell over the room. Pet looked up to see a sun-dragon descending in the moonlight, his wings spread wide to catch the air as he glided toward the courtyard. Pet didn’t recognize this dragon, but he instantly recognized what the beast carried in his hind-talons. A human girl, nude, tattooed… the final assassin.

A foot from the brick, the dragon dropped the girl’s limp body. He spread his talons out to land. Once he was firmly on the ground, he placed a talon over the girl’s still form, trapping her.

“Hex!” Shandrazel shouted, excited.

“Hex?” Pet asked, looking at Jandra.

Jandra shrugged, not recognizing the name either.

“I heard you were king now,” Hex said. He nodded toward the woman he’d pinned. “Looks like our uncle has sent a gift for your coronation. I found her on the roof. I took her alive, in case you wanted to question her.”

“That’s useless,” Androkom said, his eyes darting about the courtyard, searching for more assassins in the shadows. “They’ve cut out their tongues.”

Jandra took her hand from Shandrazel’s throat and moved to the earth-dragon who held the tongues. She took one and walked toward Hex and his prisoner. She dropped to her knees and pried open the girl’s limp jaw. With a determined look on her face, she put her fingers into the girl’s mouth, exploring. A moment later, she shook her head.

“Not hers,” she said, tossing aside the tongue. “Hand me the next one. She’s going to be in for a surprise when she wakes up.”

Chapter Five:

Hex

Pet retrieved his
pants as Jandra stuffed the third tongue into the girl’s mouth. His clothes lay near the dagger he’d swatted away from the girl he’d thrown in the pool. After he pulled on his pants and boots, he carefully picked up the dagger. The blade was full of pores, black venom oozing slowly from them. He shook the weapon gently and heard fluid sloshing in the handle. Up close, the poison stank, an odor somewhere between sour milk and boiled cabbage.