Dragonforge_ A Novel Of The Dragon Age Part 18

"I know," she sighed.

"As long as we're on the subject of enemies, however," Hex said, "is your friend the true Bitterwood? Is he the man that killed my brother and father?"

"Yes," she said.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I worried you'd kill him when we met him."

"Would he not deserve it?"

"No," said Jandra. "You yourself said your father deserved his fate. Bitterwood has given me his vow he won't harm you. I don't want you seeking revenge against him."

"Unlike my father, I haven't a vengeful bone in my body," said Hex. "Endless cycles of revenge poison all our cultures, both dragon and human. I do, however, have a strong sense of self-preservation. If your friend so much at looks at me with evil intentions, I won't suffer the least remorse when I bite his head off. However, I will promise not to swallow."

Hex's words sounded loud to her in the relative quiet of the mine shaft. By now, Trisky was several hundred feet ahead of them. Could the Bitterwoods hear their conversation?

Bitterwood, astride the long-wyrm behind his long dead son, listened closely to the whispered voices behind him. Were the sun-dragon's words a ruse? Perhaps Hex was attempting to lull him into lowering his defenses. He sensed that this dragon was craftier than others he'd tangled with over the years. long-wyrm behind his long dead son, listened closely to the whispered voices behind him. Were the sun-dragon's words a ruse? Perhaps Hex was attempting to lull him into lowering his defenses. He sensed that this dragon was craftier than others he'd tangled with over the years.

Bitterwood welcomed this threat so near his back. He'd grown used to the life of the hunt. He'd become accustomed to the daily risk; the knowledge that the next dragon he faced might be the one to spot him at the last second and lunge, faster than he could react. What did it mean that he only felt alive when he faced such danger? When he'd killed Bodiel, he could have put an arrow into his brain on the first shot. Instead, he'd targeted his arrows into non-lethal spots, crippling the giant dragon, leaving him struggling in the mud, slowly bleeding to death. He'd taken his time, savoring Bodiel's anguish. Was he courting death by indulging in such sadism? Was he, in truth, as much a monster as his prey?

The close presence of a potentially hostile dragon gave Bitterwood a welcome distraction from the obvious question of why his son was alive, in service of the G.o.ddess, and dwelling beneath the earth.

Adam, perhaps growing tired of waiting for questions that never came, began to answer them.

"I was too young to remember, of course, but I'm told I was discovered by Hezekiah. He found me in the well in Christdale and gave me to the angel Gabriel, who brought me here to the G.o.ddess."

Bitterwood's guts twisted at the mention of Hezekiah. "Hezekiah disdained the G.o.ddess. And Gabriel isn't a.s.sociated with the G.o.ddess myth at all. You've gotten your religions confused. Gabriel is the Biblical angel who informs Zechariah that his son will be John the Baptist."

"The Bible is a false doc.u.ment. Hezekiah is a false prophet. The G.o.ddess created him to play the role of deceiver; she said Eden wouldn't be paradise without a serpent."

Bitterwood saw no point in arguing his son's fractured theology. Adam's tone was that of a true believer. Had Adam inherited this gullibility from him? He'd been deceived by Hezekiah. Adam was correct, at least, in calling Hezekiah a false prophet.

Adam continued, "The G.o.ddess told me you were still alive. She said that the fabled Bitterwood that dragons feared so greatly was, in truth, my father. I asked permission to find you. She said I wasn't ready. Now I see that she planned to guide you here all along."

"No one guided me here," said Bitterwood. "No supernatural force, at least."

Adam turned around to face his father. "You've been somewhat argumentative since we met. Have I in some way offended you?"

Bitterwood swallowed. It was impossible to look at his son without seeing the echoes of Recanna. He glanced away as he said, "You've committed no offense. All the sin is mine. I'm sorry."

"There's no sin," said Adam. "You've nothing to apologize for. You didn't know I survived."

"No. I didn't search the village. Hezekiah told me if I didn't repent he would kill me. I fled from Christdale in grief and fear. The only emotion that gave me strength was my hatred. A more loving or courageous man would have stayed to search the ruins and bury the dead. I would have found you had I been a better man."

"You couldn't know," said Adam. "And if Hezekiah told you he would kill you, he would have. While he wore the clothes of a human, he was, in truth, an angel like Gabriel. No human could have stood against him."

"Hezekiah was no angel," said Bitterwood. "It took me years to learn the truth, but he was nothing but a machine. I don't understand his workings, but he was no angel."

"Wasn't he?" asked Adam. "Perhaps angels are machines built by a mind beyond the understanding of men?"

Bitterwood could see no way to argue this point. He was distracted, anyway, by a change in the atmosphere. The rotten-egg stench of the mine was slowly giving way to fresher air. He could smell the faint hint of flowers carried by an underlying brine-tainted breeze.

In addition to the change of scent, the tunnel ahead no longer stretched into dark infinity. A bright square showed the tunnel was leading toward a daylit sky. Twenty minutes later, they came to a ledge awash in warm sunlight.

Hex drew up on the ledge next to Trisky. A valley stretched before them, long and green, untouched by the early winter they had left behind on the surface. A placid lake, its waters deep and blue, filled much of the valley. The odor told Bitterwood the waters were salt.w.a.ter, not fresh. In its center sat an island speckled with flowers of every color. Thick forests covered the island, the tree branches sagging with fruit. In the center rose the marble pillars of a temple. Bitterwood recognized the structure instantly; it resembled the temple that had stood in his home village, only on a much larger, grander scale.

Jandra studied the valley, feeling dizzy as her enhanced senses struggled to catalogue the scents, colors, and sounds before her. The songs of countless exotic birds filled her mind with images-parrot, canary, gull--though the birds were only specks of color in the distance. The walls of the valley were sheer rock covered with vines, stretching so high that it seemed as if the sky was merely a painting resting upon them. valley, feeling dizzy as her enhanced senses struggled to catalogue the scents, colors, and sounds before her. The songs of countless exotic birds filled her mind with images-parrot, canary, gull--though the birds were only specks of color in the distance. The walls of the valley were sheer rock covered with vines, stretching so high that it seemed as if the sky was merely a painting resting upon them.

"Daylight!" said Hex, sounding joyous. "I thought we'd never leave that cursed tunnel!" Jandra dug her fingers into his neck fringe as he suddenly bounded toward the edge of the cliff.

"Wait!" shouted Adam. "It's dangerous to fly here!"

"It's dangerous to fly anywhere," Hex answered, as he leapt into s.p.a.ce and soared toward the blue above. "Every dragon lives with the knowledge that his next flight could be the one where gravity wins!"

Hex said the words with such defiant joy that Jandra felt joyous herself. Hex seemed utterly fearless as he climbed upward. Jandra clenched her legs tighter around his neck as he spiraled toward the upper reaches of the stone walls and the open sky beyond. The hairs on her neck rose as her eyes began to pick apart the sky racing toward them. Suddenly she realized that the expanse above was mere illusion.

"Watch out!" she shouted, thrusting her right hand forward, willing the blue sky to vanish. As she willed it, the sky obeyed, parting in a wave, revealing the valley to be capped by the same stone as the tunnel, a solid ceiling now mere yards away. Hex twisted in the air, nearly dislodging Jandra. She fought to maintain her hold, grateful for her improved strength and reflexes. Hex had pulled his head back in time to avoid a collision, but there was a terrible jolt as his tail smacked into the stone. He fell toward the water, seemingly in complete surrender to gravity.

Then, Hex's wings caught the air and their descent quickly halted. Hex soared over the lake in a long circle, turning back toward the cliff they'd leapt from. The bright sunlit room was growing dim. The sky continued to ripple like water into which a heavy object had been dropped, the waves growing in violence. In places the sky was ripping, with large fragments of blue sloughing away in sheets. A snow of silver dust filled the air as the sky crumbed, revealing that they were still completely encased beneath rock. A moment later, only a few shards of blue sky still stubbornly persisted, carrying on as if unaware that the illusion was now pointless.

Jandra let some of the silver dust settle on her outstretched hand. They were part of a Light-Emitting Nanite System-a LENS-something she herself knew how to use to create images from light. But, the sky had covered miles... Who could possibly have the concentration to maintain such an illusion?

Hex alighted next to the long-wyrm. It coiled backward, skittish at his approach.

"Steady," said Adam, stroking Trisky's neck.

"What witchcraft is this?" Bitterwood said as he stared wide-eyed at the shattered sky.

"This is no witchcraft," Adam said. "The G.o.ddess transformed this cavern into the paradise you see. Have no fear. The sky will repair itself."

Jandra had a hundred questions about the G.o.ddess. Before she could ask even one, however, there was an angry shout from the island, loud enough to be heard even though it was miles away.

"My sky! Who broke my sky?"

A woman emerged onto the stone steps of the temple. Jandra again found her eyes confused by the strange perspectives of the cavern. Either the island and the temple were much smaller than she'd judged, or the woman was at least twelve feet tall. The trees around the marble columns must have been half the height Jandra had a.s.sumed. The woman looked toward the cliff where Jandra stood. She walked toward them, growing with each step. After two steps, the trees were no higher than her waist. After four steps, they were at her knees. Then, she had left the trees entirely and walked across the lake, her body now hundreds of feet high, her eyes at the level of the cliff where they stood. The lake water dented beneath the woman's footsteps, yet the waters held her.

"The G.o.ddess, I presume," said Hex, his body tensing as if preparing to fight.

Jandra suspected Hex had good reason to antic.i.p.ate combat. The G.o.ddess didn't look happy. Her face was mostly human, but her eyes glowed like twin bonfires. Her skin was the color of new spring gra.s.s, with her lips a darker, mossy shade. Her hair was a tangle of kudzu, the locks draping down her shoulders to cover the nipples of her otherwise bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Whether the draping was due to modesty or chance was debatable, however, for there was no such cover for the lower parts of her body. Her pubic mound was a tangle of thick, dark ivy. Her broad feminine hips rested upon shapely legs, long and artful.

Jandra was used only to her own, girlish proportions. The G.o.ddess was of a more womanly shape, heavy-breasted and lushly curved. She walked with a hip-swaying gate that Jandra found slightly obscene. As the G.o.ddess drew near, the heat radiating from the fury of her eyes caused Hex to step backwards. Jandra raised an arm to protect her face. Beside them, Trisky lowered herself to her belly and Adam dove to the ground, pressing his face to the stone in either fear or reverence. Bitterwood had drawn his sword and was crouched low beside the great-wyrm.

"A sun-dragon?" the G.o.ddess said, sounding both puzzled and pleasantly surprised. Her voice was powerful yet not overwhelming and, save for its volume, not that different from the voice of a woman of normal size. The flames in the green woman's eyes faded, revealing orbs of a more human structure, albeit still over a yard across. The irises were made of brilliant turquoise. Within the dark circles at the core, stars twinkled in the void.

"I haven't seen one of your kind in my little kingdom in centuries," the G.o.ddess said, focusing on Hex and ignoring Jandra. "I've taken precautions to keep you away, in fact. How curious that you overcame your fears to come here."

Hex stepped forward, drawing up into the normal two-legged stance of the sun-dragons. Jandra leapt from his back, not wanting to weigh him down if he was about to do something risky. Hex inhaled, puffing out his chest in a manner that reminded her of Albekizan, and announced, "My name is Hexilizan. I have no fears to overcome; I'm of royal blood. Courage is my birthright."

"Aren't you the bold one?" asked the G.o.ddess. "Boldness can be dangerous here, dragon. You've discovered that things aren't always as they seem. I'm curious... How did you break my sky? Mere collision shouldn't have caused such chaos."

"I don't know," said Hex. "I was flying when it parted of its own will."

Jandra stepped around him, facing the G.o.ddess, raising her hand in a shy wave.

"Actually," she said, "It was my will. I, um, sensed what it was made of at the last second. I didn't mean to cause so much damage. I just lost control."

The G.o.ddess narrowed her eyes. It was difficult to tell due to the scale of her gaze, but it seemed to Jandra that she was focusing on her helmet.

"That is an interesting toy, little one," the G.o.ddess said.

"Perhaps we should sit down and talk about toys," said Jandra.

"That could be amusing," said the G.o.ddess, the corners of her mouth pulling into what Jandra a.s.sumed was a smile. It was difficult to read facial expressions when that face was too wide to take in all at once. "Very well. Meet me at my temple."

After she spoke, her body broke apart, becoming a swarm of insects. Everyone coughed and covered their mouths as whirlwinds of iridescent green bottle-flies spun through the air for several minutes before dispersing.

Afterwards, Adam stood and guided Trisky as she rose. Everyone stared at him, as if expecting him to explain everything with one sentence.

"I told you," he said, with a knowing smile. "The G.o.ddess."

Chapter Sixteen:.

Merciful

Pet sat up, mildly disoriented. He blinked his eyes, feeling as if he'd moved back in time a year to his old life of comfort and privilege. He was in room with a vaulted ceiling and a stained gla.s.s window similar to the ones that had adorned Chakthalla's castle. He was sleeping on a large red silk cushion, the sort of cushions Chakthalla used to sleep upon with him curled up beside her. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes he remembered he was in Shandrazel's palace. As leader of the human diplomats, he had been granted these plush accommodations. mildly disoriented. He blinked his eyes, feeling as if he'd moved back in time a year to his old life of comfort and privilege. He was in room with a vaulted ceiling and a stained gla.s.s window similar to the ones that had adorned Chakthalla's castle. He was sleeping on a large red silk cushion, the sort of cushions Chakthalla used to sleep upon with him curled up beside her. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes he remembered he was in Shandrazel's palace. As leader of the human diplomats, he had been granted these plush accommodations.

It was just after dawn judging from the soft light coloring the high windows. He was freezing, naked upon the cushions without an inch of blanket. The thick wool covers were all pulled off to the side of the cushion and wrapped around the slender figure of a sleeping woman. Pet stared at her for a long moment. Who was she? How had she gotten here?

She had her back to him. Her long brown hair was tousled from the night's activities. Pet started to wake her, but his fingers stopped inches from her shoulders. He decided to let her sleep. He couldn't recall her name, but the memory of meeting her was beginning to resolve from his mental fog. After the fiasco of the previous day's talks, when the valkyries had stormed out, Pet had decided it was time to get out of the palace and run far, far away. He'd only made it as far as Richmond when he'd decided to fortify his resolve with an ale or two at the local tavern. A trio of musicians had been performing and the girl beside him had been their flute player. He recalled how she reminded him of Jandra in the color of her hair and the shape of her jaw. Yet, while Jandra was never impressed by anything Pet did or said, this girl had been quite enamored by Pet's claims that he was an advisor to Shandrazel. He vaguely remembered inviting her back to his room, deciding he could put off fleeing the talks at least one more day. His memory grew cloudier after that. In truth, he hadn't drunk enough to affect his memory, though it was possible she had-she'd accepted his generosity in buying rounds readily enough.

Pet suspected the real reason he couldn't remember the further details of their encounter was that he'd simply found it boring. His true pleasure in seduction came in the early stages, when women were attracted by his smile, his wit, and his fine breeding. The sun-dragons who found it fashionable to keep humans as pets engaged in selective breeding to exaggerate certain desired traits. Pet's lineage was that of a purebred, and he enjoyed being admired for his physical perfection.

Pet rose and went to the mirror. His body was a work of art; he knew that women enjoyed feasting upon him with their eyes, and more. It was the rare woman who could resist reaching out to touch his flowing golden locks, or feel his broad and well-formed shoulders. He was proud of his appearance, and took care with his diet and exercise to hone its finest details. His face possessed the same perfection. He paid attention to the smallest items that could detract from his appearance. He tried to maintain even numbers of eye lashes, for instance, and was ferocious in seeking and snipping any split ends in his hair. He possessed an array of fine brushes he used to clean and polish his teeth after every meal; he even washed his tongue three times daily to ensure the freshness of his breath.

Yet, staring into the reflection of his brilliant blue eyes, Pet wondered if all his outer perfection had left him tarnished on the inside. He'd witnessed purebred dogs. The prettier the breed, the crazier they tended to be. Had breeding him for physical perfection left him with a damaged personality? He frequently seduced women he didn't truly desire. He only wanted Jandra, he suspected, because she didn't want him. Was this perverse? To impress her, he'd repeatedly risked his life. This couldn't be healthy. And as irrational as his behavior was around Jandra, his actions around dragons were becoming outright insane. Why had he yelled at Shadrazel over the whole bow thing? What did he care if men had bows? Perhaps his long years of subservience to sun-dragons had left him with a pent-up need to yell at one?

Or perhaps he could only summon pa.s.sion when he was pretending to be someone else. He embraced the role of Bitterwood because the man was a hero. Pet was only, well, a pet. He was the exact philosophical opposite of a hero. If he were honest with the other humans at the talks, he would tell them what he truly believed: Humans would have better lives if they just worked harder to make dragons happy. Treat a dragon with flattery and obedience, as he had Chakthalla, and you would be rewarded with a life of ease.

Would he dare march into the Peace Hall and speak the truth to his fellow men?

He sighed, shaking his head. If the truth ever came out of him, they'd lynch him. Better to be praised for a lie than hung for the truth.

Feeling he'd had his fill of introspection for the day, he dressed himself quietly and crept from the room, careful not to wake his guest.

As Pet entered the Peace Hall for the third day of talks he noticed that the room seemed empty. None of the dozen sun-dragon representatives had arrived yet. Shandrazel, Charkon, and Androkom were huddled together in conference. A few of Pet's fellow humans were gathered across the room, murmuring among themselves, looking worried. Only a handful of the biologian representatives were present, and there was no sign that the valkyries had returned. the Peace Hall for the third day of talks he noticed that the room seemed empty. None of the dozen sun-dragon representatives had arrived yet. Shandrazel, Charkon, and Androkom were huddled together in conference. A few of Pet's fellow humans were gathered across the room, murmuring among themselves, looking worried. Only a handful of the biologian representatives were present, and there was no sign that the valkyries had returned.

Pet bypa.s.sed the humans and walked straight to Shandrazel. The giant dragon looked agitated. Before Pet reached the throne pedestal, a trio of earth-dragon guards stepped into his path, blocking him. They barked out, "Halt!"

Pet stopped, confused. "Are you new or something? I'm supposed to be here."

"No humans are to approach the king!" one of the guards snarled, lowering his spear until the point was aimed at Pet's neck. "Any closer and we'll run you through!"

Fortunately, the commotion caught Shandrazel's attention. "Lower your weapons!" he commanded. "I gave no such order!"

"I did," Androkom said. The high biologian was less than half Shandrazel's size, but somehow this morning he looked more composed and in charge than the young king. "I felt it would be a logical precaution."

"A precaution against what?" Pet asked as the guards lowered their spears.

"It may be nothing," said Shandrazel. "But, during the night-"

"During the night all of the sun-dragon representatives vanished," Androkom said.

"What do you mean, vanished?" said Pet. The word "vanished" had taken on subtle shades of meaning ever since he met Jandra. Just because something couldn't be seen didn't mean it wasn't there anymore.

"No messages were left," said Shandrazel. "And there were no signs of struggle. I've sent out members of the aerial guard to try to-"

"We believe it was the work of Blasphet," said Androkom, sounding impatient. "And there are signs of struggle; there are seven dead earth-dragon guards."

"I meant we've found no signs that any of the sun-dragons were harmed," Shandrazel said.

"The guards died from puncture wounds crusted with black poison," said Androkom.

"The sisters attacked again?" Pet asked. "Why didn't anyone hear them? They were sort of loud last time."

"No one heard anything," said Shandrazel. "We still have more questions than answers."