Dragon School_Dire Quest Page 6

  Nothing but the basics. Training has increased in preparation for the war. Their instructors scold them for not learning their lessons. The Sentries are difficult to tame and master. Tonight’s student is nursing electric burns down his left leg from standing too close to one.

  Nothing that could help us. I’d been using oil left over from my meals to try to oil my quarterstaff, but so far it was still jammed into my crutch.

  More days passed. I passed the time playing cards with Raolcan – a difficult thing to manage, but he hid the cards behind his back and slipped them one at a time to me wedged under a talon – and reading the Ibrenicus Prophecies. There was nothing in them about me, and yet I was certain there must be some key to our release, if only I could find it. But where the prophecies had been so obvious in the past, they were now as opaque as the stone walls around us.

  I put down the book on the ninth day and sighed. I’d better braid my hair. It was growing longer now. You could barely tell it had ever been singed. I wasn’t going to find anything more in the book today. I should be copying one of my own, but I liked Talsan’s. I even liked his little note in the back.

  “If you find this book it means I’m dead. I probably died bravely. Even if I didn’t, I hope you’ll take my advice: Things are rarely what they seem. Don’t give up hope.”

  It was such an optimistic sentiment for someone who was certain he’d already be dead if anyone was reading it. I wished I was still that optimistic. I felt lethargic after so many days with nothing to do.

  A clinking sound from the door sent me to my feet in a hurry. I tucked the book away and settled my crutch in time to see an official looking man with a narrow mustache and the wide shoulder flares of the guards. He had multiple cords hanging from his helmet with dozens of knots in each of them. He must be important. None of the guards had more than two.

  He smiled before he spoke, and I shivered. That was not the smile of a kind man.

  “You appealed your case. You have asked to see Prince Rakturan, the Dark Prince. This is true?”

  “Yes,” I managed, despite the weakness in my knees and the dryness of my mouth.

  “Then you shall share his fate.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  At least they were letting Raolcan fly on his own. Not that it was much comfort when we were surrounded on every side and above and below by about thirty Sentries. The riders on them were almost as drone-like as the Sentries, keeping their hands on the reigns at all times and their eyes on their target. The man who had given the order rode on the lead Sentry, but he didn’t bother to look back or acknowledge us in any way.

  I spread my palms across Raolcan’s skin, as if I could absorb comfort through the pores. After a while, I bent over and pressed my cheek to his neck as well. Wherever they were taking us couldn’t be good, and no one knew where we were. I just held my friend, afraid it would be the last time.

  His mental silence was the worst part of it all. Silence from Raolcan was never a good thing. It meant he had no clever plan to get us out of it, no advice to keep me sane, no hope to keep my spirits up. And my spirits were spiralling downward like a wounded dragon.

  I’m a little out of my element.

  It must burn him to admit it.

  It might take some work for me to develop a plan.

  That was like hopeless despair coming from anyone else.

  I wonder if these worm-eaters have a gooey middle when you squish them.

  That was a bit more like it.

  We flew north from the Kashran, away from the city and over a small range of hills. I grew tired as the sun raged over me, almost drifting off to sleep. A feeling of stunned surprise through my link to Raolcan forced me upright again.

  I swallowed. We were high in the air – high enough that I couldn’t hear the sounds of the conflict below us or see the grisly details. Did that make it better or worse? Black smoke rolled out of a line of angry red across the ground as a mass of moving black ants – no, people so far beneath us that they looked like ants – charged into another mass. Scattered across the ground tiny figures lay alone or piled in horrible berms across the landscape. I watched as a volley of tiny arrows filled the air beneath us, flattening a line of soldiers. A charge of horses and riders - like a spear through mud – plunged through one group, leaving the remains scattered like autumn leaves. Were there rivers here? I thought I saw one in the lowest part of the field, red with the blood of the fallen.

  I’d never seen a war before, even from so far away. I’d seen skirmishes, but not battles like these. Not battles involving thousands of men and women. The city we left behind and the Kashran had felt so normal and unaffected, but here, just a few hours of flying away, a thousand stories were ending. They were the stories of fathers beloved to their children, of hopeful young farmers who loved to watch things grow, of someone who thought a uniform might make a man of him and someone else who had chosen to die for something he thought was worth dying for. I bet that if someone had told me those stories I’d be fascinated by every one of them.

  Stories shouldn’t end all at once like someone had taken a huge set of shears and cut them off. Stories should begin like that – bursting from one point like stars rolling across the galaxy – but they shouldn’t end like that.

  Crying over the deaths of the enemy?

  But they didn’t feel like my enemy when they were so far below that I couldn’t hear their cries.

  They would kill you if you were down there.

  What were they fighting about? That was the question.

  It seems it’s a civil war. One side fights for the Crescent Prince – the leader of those who have us captive. I think they are winning.

  And what did that mean for us?

  I’m not sure. We’re not stopping here.

  We didn’t stop until long after my tears dried up. Raolcan saw our destination first.

  I wish I’d thought of something sooner.

  There was nothing to think of. If we’d tried to escape sooner, he would have died a slow death at the end of a Sentry’s tentacles.

  That might actually be a better option...

  What could he see? And then, slowly, I began to make out the details. There was a huge tear in the ground, like a dragon the size of a country had run his claw across the ground. Alongside the rent in the earth, someone had carved a symbol the size of a city - an arrow within the center of a spiral, strange letters inscribed along both the spiral and the arrow. And at the center of the spiral was a tower with a broken top.

  I shivered, but what worried me more was the dust-cloud creatures slowly seeping out of one end of the tear – Ifrits. Hundreds of them. They pooled around the spiral – as if they couldn’t enter it – and filled the empty plains surrounding the tower. Whoever owned this tower had an Ifrit army. Even if they hadn’t already been winning that massive battle, they’d be winning now.

  My fingers clenched and unclenched, worrying at the edge of the saddle. I had the horrifying sensation that I was watching the minutes of my life bleed away, hour by hour, minute by minute and that there was only a handful of them left. Because since we arrived on the Dark Continent, everything that happened to us had slowly mired us deeper and deeper into a pit from which there was no escape. I wracked my brain for a prophecy, but nothing came to me. There were no wise words now from Raolcan. It was as if wisdom had been silenced and hope had shut her mouth.

  Why? Why now of all times, when I needed them most?

  We descended, aiming for the base of the tower and as we grew closer a thrum filled the air, as if there were voices chanting.

  It’s the Ifrits. They can’t really speak, but they can make a wordless chant.

  My joints felt too stiff to move, as if they were trying to make me stronger from the inside out.

  This is what the Dusk Covenant wants to do to the Dominion. This is why we are here.

  True. But now that we were here, what were we going to do? I wasn’t Savette. I didn’t have the
power to destroy a thousand Ifrits and take on an army. I couldn’t even free us. What was I going to do?

  There must be some weakness we can find ...

  The buzz of the Sentries electricity joined with the thrum of the Ifrits as we landed. The leader of the Sentries turned to me with a wicked glint in his eyes.

  “Welcome to Za’cazar, the Edge of the World. We’re going to see how long it takes for you to slip right off the edge.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  This was the part where you fought for your life. I knew that, but before I could even grab my crutch strong arms had my hands pinned behind my back. I felt Raolcan buck beneath me and felt the flash-back from a gout of fire and then he fell limp.

  I was dragged from my saddle with rough haste, my bad leg bumping and smashing against Raolcan, the guards and then the ground. It was too fast for me to scream, too fast for me to react. Helpless, I was pulled across the rocks, twisting as much as I could to try to catch a glimpse of Raolcan’s face. Why was he so still? Ow! There were riderless sentries all around him, wrapping themselves across his tail, back and neck. Tiny little zaps of electricity shot out from their slender nearly-translucent tentacles as they wrapped hair-like around him.

  Raolcan! Raolcan!

  Amel ... His mental voice faded away.

  No, no, no, no! But they were still clustered around him. He probably wasn’t dead. Didn’t he say it took a long time for them to kill a victim?

  We should have fought this before. Why did I ever trust their justice systems or appeals? The Katran had lulled me. It had just felt too much like home.

  A crowd of people was gathered along the lip of that gaping crack – the Edge of the World – and the grip on my arms tightened as hands reached out to touch me as I was dragged by.

  “Don’t touch the prisoner. She won’t be bringing anyone good luck. Not with what Prince Lakshentan is going to do to her.”

  What was he going to do to me?

  There was a platform up ahead. It rose high into the air and was broad enough to fit a hundred people. They were proving it right now as they filled the space, leaning onto the railings to get enough room to breathe. A tall pole towered in the center of the platform with an arm reaching out from it and over the edge of the cliff. From the end of the arm, a rope hung, a wide, wicker basket hanging from the end of it.

  The guards shoved their way through the crowd and the smell of sweat and dust met my nose as I was pushed into the opening behind me. The guards had no qualms about smacking, kicking or outright beating anyone in their path, but with the press of bodies, it was impossible for those in their path to move out of the way in time. The way that guard in the lead was setting into the crowd looked like he was cutting grass with a long knife.

  I couldn’t walk on my own. They’d left my crutch with Roalcan. I leaned heavily against the guards, feeling the silence in my mind like a knife in the heart. He was gone. If not dead – don’t let him be dead! – then still not able to help. I was used to relying on him as the other half of our team.

  Was that a hangman’s gallows up ahead? Did they hang Rakturan? They seemed to really like hangings around here. I tried not to dwell on the thought as they pushed me up the stairs to the platform and shoved me to my knees on the ground. How long did Raolcan have before those Sentries killed him?

  I looked up when a pair of black boots with silver toes stepped in front of me. A man in majestic attire with a pointed beard and attractive laugh lines around his mouth was sneering down at me.

  “This enemy appealed to Prince Rakturan,” he said loud enough for the crowd to hear. “And you all know what high regard we hold him in.”

  There was laughter from the crowd. That was never a good thing. Crowds were vicious horrifying creatures with minds of their own. A single person might be a good sort who would help you out if you needed it and never think of taking advantage of you. A crowd – even one made up of that sort of people – was a creature that survived off of fear and blood. Slip just a little bit and it would spring on you and tear you to shreds.

  “So, we’ve agreed to honor her request. The Prince can decide what to do with her as she joins him in his fate. She and her traitorous friend.”

  I was knocked to the side as another prisoner was thrown into me. I pulled myself back to my knees and gaped in surprise. Renn Woelran had been thrown beside me, his cheeks and lower lip smashed and swollen. I didn’t want anyone else to have to suffer with me – not even a traitor like Woelran – but one maybe he’d have an idea to get us out of this fate.

  “The Crescent Prince has spoken.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  We were dragged forward and this time the crowd parted as the wicker cage was lowered into their midst from the rope on the end of the boom. It settled down in front of us, dust puffing up as it hit the ground and stirring in the sunbeams in front of me so that they sparkled like streams of gold. The guards opened the side of the basket and forced Renn in before giving me a rough shove inside. I landed hard, scraping my palms on the rough branches that were woven into the basket as I broke my fall.

  The interior was dimmer than the world outside, though the gaps in the weaving had been cleverly shaped so we could easily be seen within it and also see out in every direction, including below us.

  My belly lurched uncertainly as the rope was cranked upward and the basket lifted up from the ground. I flinched. The bottom of the basket sagged under our weight, like it had never been designed to hold people. The crowd cheered as the boom swung out over the pit below and slowly began to winch over the side. We dangled above the black shadow of the end in the world.

  The Crescent Prince’s voice rang out from the platform to resounding cheers all around him. “They will be lowered slowly, inch by inch until either they are taken by the Ifirits and forced to pay for their treason and espionage or until the rope breaks and they plunge to their deaths. Such a death is mercy. Be glad that I am a kind and merciful prince.”

  The cheers increased, and I pulled my knee up under my chin, arranging my other leg as best as I could and settling myself in the basket. Renn crouched on the other side of me and across from us a hooded figure sat cross-legged. The basket could have fit two more people sitting like that, but the woven roof was too close to stand. There was no sign of food or water. If we survived the Ifrits and the rope didn’t break, we’d die of dehydration before too long.

  “Let’s see who we have here,” Renn said, flipping the hood off the head of the other man.

  I didn’t gasp because I wasn’t surprised. It was clearly Rakturan, his face beaten and his clothes and hair matted with dried blood and dirt. He wore his blindfold, but no light shone through. If he still had access to his power he would never have been captured this way.

  “Rak?” I asked gently.

  “Is Savette with you?” his voice was a whisper between thick, cracked lips. How long had he been in this basket?

  “No. She sent me with a message. She’s still in the Dominion.”

  “Light’s mercy.”

  He slumped back against the basket, limp.

  “There’s a war.”

  It was clearly painful for him to talk, but he struggled through. “Started when I arrived. Word of my coming ignited everything. Like lightning through a dry forest. We battle the Crescent Prince. Failure will mean the everyone’s destruction.”

  “It’s the Ifrits, isn’t it? They’re pulling them up from this place to subdue the whole earth under their rule.”

  “Even the ones in the Dominion came from here.”

  “So, if they are stopped here, then they can’t get more to fight over there?”

  He nodded weakly.

  “But I saw Starie call them up.”

  “Already there, latent in the ground. They travel along magic streams beneath the ground – like veins of ore in the earth. But this place spawns them.”

  Then this place really was the key.

  “Why did they bring
us here?”

  He shook his head. Either he didn’t know or was too weak to say.

  “Your light?”

  “Gone. Gone with my last shred of hope.”

  What did that mean? Why had he lost his hope?

  “Baojang is shattered. My family. Our allies. Even those hidden. Gone. The last of us fight, but we have already lost. They will shred this world to ribbons and with it the last person alive who I love.”

  “Savette.”

  “Her life is my only hope now.” His breathing slowed as if he had fallen asleep.

  She wouldn’t be alive if it hadn’t been for the dark night when Shonan and I had given her back her light. I bit my lip. Above me, the rope creaked as I pulled the tiny leather-bound book from my pocket, flipping through it as I searched for some phrase or verse that might have meaning for us now.

  “You’re awfully dedicated to that book,” Renn said quietly.

  “Go eat feet.” It wasn’t a very kind answer, but I didn’t have Raolcan to say it for me. I didn’t even have his voice in my mind. There was no one here but me and a dying man and a traitor. There was no Hubric with wisdom, no Savette with power, no Shonan to show us the glory of Kings. There was only this little book and me, but I’d be embarrassed if my friends ever knew that I’d died without trying. I couldn’t let them down. Not now. Not when this place was the key to everything. There had to be something in the book.

  “Looking for answers?”

  “What’s it to you, traitor?” Nothing. I flipped through and nothing caught my eye. Nothing seemed to be about this. Maybe if I started from the beginning again.

  “It’s not actually true, you know. It’s just a book of things that might have been true at one time – sort of – at least for the people who lived through that. It kind of speaks about their experience and what they were feeling and thinking. You can’t think it’s true for here and now. It doesn’t have any answers for you.”