Dragonseed_ A Novel Of Dragon Age Part 9

Anza danced across the net. Jandra flinched as Anza's sword slashed out at her, again and again. Seconds later, the net fell away. Anza turned to free Shay.

Bitterwood dropped from the high window into the room. He looked at Jandra as Lizard climbed back onto her shoulder. "Is that an earth-dragon child? He can't come with us."

"He can and he will," said Jandra.

Bitterwood opened his mouth, but Jandra cut him off. "You always lose these arguments, so let's skip over the banter and get out of here."

Bitterwood glowered at her and nodded.

Shay shook free of the cut ropes that draped him as Anza stepped back. His voice was trembling as he walked toward the man who'd just saved them. "Did... did you... did you really set fire to the Grand Library?"

"Of course," Bitterwood answered in a matter-of-fact tone, as if Shay had asked something trivial.

"Monster!" Shay swung out his lanky right arm in a furious arc, planting his balled up fist directly into the teeth of the dragon-slayer.

Bitterwood's head snapped sideways, but he wasn't knocked off balance. He calmly wiped his lips with the back of his hand as he stared at Shay. Shay was trembling with rage, his fists clenched, raising his arms to strike again.

Bitterwood kneed Shay in the groin. Shay doubled over and Bitterwood brought both of his fists down onto the back of Shay's skull. The former slave slammed down onto the net, completely still.

Bitterwood looked down and spit. His saliva was pink with blood as it splashed onto Shay's neck. "He looks familiar," he said. "Did I save his life somewhere?"

"You can ask him after he wakes up," said Jandra, rushing over to her wardrobe and swinging its doors open. "Since you knocked him out, you'll be carrying him."

"Like h.e.l.l I will," said Bitterwood. Jandra gave him a stern glance. Bitterwood shook his head in disgust as he leaned down and grabbed Shay's collar.

CHAPTER NINE:.

A TORCH TO VANQUISH THE NIGHT.

SHAY COUGHED HIMSELF awake; smoke scoured his lungs. At least, he felt like he was awake, though the evidence of his eyes argued that he was trapped within a nightmare. He was a hundred feet in the air on the exterior of a stone tower, slung over a white saddle on the back of a fifty foot long, copper-colored serpent. He should be falling-the beast he rode was moving along the vertical wall of the tower, racing across it as easily as if it were flat ground, gripping the walls with dozens of sharp-clawed legs. Fortunately, the saddle felt as if it were coated with glue-his stomach was held firmly against it in defiance of gravity. awake; smoke scoured his lungs. At least, he felt like he was awake, though the evidence of his eyes argued that he was trapped within a nightmare. He was a hundred feet in the air on the exterior of a stone tower, slung over a white saddle on the back of a fifty foot long, copper-colored serpent. He should be falling-the beast he rode was moving along the vertical wall of the tower, racing across it as easily as if it were flat ground, gripping the walls with dozens of sharp-clawed legs. Fortunately, the saddle felt as if it were coated with glue-his stomach was held firmly against it in defiance of gravity.

Craning his neck and squinting to see through the haze of smoke, he found that the copper serpent was studded with riders both familiar and strange. Jandra sat on the saddle in front of him with Lizard standing on her shoulder, hissing loudly as he shook his small fist at the flock of sky-dragons wheeling toward them. Behind him Anza crouched upon a white saddle, her fingers bristling with throwing knives. He felt a sense of vertigo... given the angle at which she was perched, she should be falling. Behind her, near the tail of the beast, a black and white pig wore a silver visor that hid his eyes. It sat upon the saddle serenely, oblivious to the swaying, lurching gait of the serpent as it undulated across the tower. Beyond the pig sat a little blonde girl, perhaps ten years old, thin even by Shay's scarecrowish standard. She, too, wore a metal visor that hid her eyes.

At the beast's head Bitterwood stood in his saddle, his bow drawn, firing arrow after arrow into the swarm of dragons that dove toward them. Shay stared at the legendary dragon-slayer. He was a good deal shorter than Shay, and not particularly heroic in his stance or gestures. He looked like one of the field slaves at middle age, weathered, wizened, and worn out. The deep wrinkles around his eyes twitched as they flickered from target to target. His hands moved with inhuman speed back and forth from quiver to bow. The bowstring sang with a musical rhythm, humming for a few seconds until an arrow was placed against it once more, zuum, zuum, zuum, zuum. zuum, zuum, zuum, zuum. The arrows, he noted, had the same bright green leaves fletching them as the arrows that had killed the slavecatchers by the river. The arrows, he noted, had the same bright green leaves fletching them as the arrows that had killed the slavecatchers by the river.

Shay tried to rise, if "rise" had any true meaning in this strange sideways world he'd woke in. As he moved, his center of gravity began to spin. He felt the ground below calling to him. He grabbed at the beast's scales, overlapping thin disks, metallic in their chill. He found himself slipping.

"Don't struggle," the blonde girl called out. "The saddle will hold you if you let it."

Shay struggled. His legs were now dangling straight down.

He was looking toward Anza, who rolled her eyes. She hurled her throwing knives heavenward and a sky-dragon suddenly tilted and fell, its wings limp. Anza pulled her long sword from the scabbard over her back. She raised it over her head, and swung the flat of the blade at Shay.

Thunder cracked somewhere near the base of his skull and the world went dark once more.

SHAY WOKE TO the slightly sweet stink of manure and hay. He was flat on his back on a large bale of straw, his head pounding with each heart beat. He raised his hand to discover a knot the size of walnut on the back of his scalp. He sat up, trying to remember where and why he'd gotten the injury. He was in a barn, with horses in stalls staring at him lazily. It was distantly familiar; he knew he'd been here before. This barn was attached to an inn on the edge of Richmond. It was where they had left their horses before going to the Dragon Palace. the slightly sweet stink of manure and hay. He was flat on his back on a large bale of straw, his head pounding with each heart beat. He raised his hand to discover a knot the size of walnut on the back of his scalp. He sat up, trying to remember where and why he'd gotten the injury. He was in a barn, with horses in stalls staring at him lazily. It was distantly familiar; he knew he'd been here before. This barn was attached to an inn on the edge of Richmond. It was where they had left their horses before going to the Dragon Palace.

He rose on trembling legs. There were voices outside, familiar ones. He stumbled toward the barn door. It hurt to walk. He remembered Bitterwood's ungentlemanly a.s.sault. Kicking someone in the b.a.l.l.s wasn't behavior he would have expected from a legendary champion of humanity.

Shay pushed the barn door open and his eyes were instantly drawn toward the horizon. Flames shot into the air in a huge inferno that reached to the stars themselves. The Grand Library, housing a thousand years of history and literature, was now the world's largest bonfire. He dropped to his knees in the barnyard muck, feeling ill. Not more than ten feet away, sitting on the edge of a rain barrel, Jandra watched the flames as well. Squatting on the ground before her was the old man, Bitterwood.

Jandra was now wearing a calf-length coat that fit as if it had been tailored for her. The fabric was pale blue, the same color as a sky-dragon's wings. Shay had gotten used to seeing Jandra in the shapeless, drab, earth-dragon coat. She looked smaller now, yet at the same time more powerful, more like a sorceress than a refugee. She shook her head as she watched the flames. "Bant, it's not that I don't appreciate the rescue, but this was a pretty horrible thing to do."

"It got you out of the palace with minimal danger," said Bitterwood.

"Since when do you worry about danger? I'm amazed you let Chapelion live. You're normally not so merciful."

"Mercy had nothing to do with it," said Bitterwood. "I came here to save you, not kill Chapelion."

"You had him in your sights," she said.

"He wasn't the biggest threat. You were trapped by a net, surrounded by armed earth-dragons. I'm not positive I could have kept you alive if a battle had broken out."

"The one thing I'm not clear on is how, exactly, you knew I needed saving?"

"You understand it better than I, no doubt. Zeeky still hears whispers from the crystal ball the G.o.ddess gave her. The ghosts inside can see the future. They told Zeeky to save you. I wasn't in favor of dropping everything to chase you across the countryside, but I don't fare any better arguing with her than I do with you."

"Hmm," said Jandra. "Jazz said that if you were trapped in unders.p.a.ce, you could see the past and future with equal clarity. I know Zeeky's crystal ball contains a tiny sliver of unders.p.a.ce. Jazz said she kept her best secrets to herself... Unders.p.a.ce was one of those secrets. I have only a rough understanding of the science behind it. Apparently there are more dimensions to the world than the three we normally perceive. Alas, the practical science of traveling through these extra dimensions wasn't shared with me." In the distance, there was a horrible rumble. Sparks shot into the air like fireworks as a huge section of the upper tower crumbled and collapsed inward. "Shay's going to have a fit when he hears about this," Jandra said.

Shay realized they didn't know he was there. He pulled himself up from the muck, his fists clenched. "Y-you...," he growled as he stalked toward Bitterwood. "You... you... you!" you!"

"Unclench your fists, boy," said Bitterwood, his eyes narrowing into slits. "I let you off easy. Swing at me and you'll never eat solid food again."

Shay couldn't open his fists if he wanted to. He couldn't move at all-rage paralyzed him. His voice came out in a low, hissing whisper: "How could you?" "How could you?"

Bitterwood shrugged. "I'm good at hitting things. If I can knock the teeth out of a sun-dragon, I reckon I can do the same to a skinny house-slave."

Jandra smirked. "I think he meant how could you set the library on fire."

"Oh," said the dragon-slayer. "That was nothing. I just broke a lantern."

"RRRaaah!" Shay snarled as he threw his arms up in the air in his frustration, shaking his fists at the stars. He hopped up and down, releasing guttural growls, his anger stripping him of all coherent thought. Within the barns, a horse whinnied. Shay snarled as he threw his arms up in the air in his frustration, shaking his fists at the stars. He hopped up and down, releasing guttural growls, his anger stripping him of all coherent thought. Within the barns, a horse whinnied.

"Calm down, Shay," said Jandra. "You're spooking the horses."

Shay stopped moving. He concentrated on the breath flowing in ragged gushes across his lips. He opened and closed his trembling hands as he tried to gain control of his rage. He whispered, "Th-there ... there were over a m-million books in that Library. Do you have any idea what an evil evil thing you have done?" thing you have done?"

"Books have never done the world any good, boy," said Bitterwood. "At least, no good for humans. Dragons have spent a thousand years writing books that justify why they rule the world. Good riddance, I say."

Shay was certain that he was going to vomit in his anger. He dropped to his hands and knees, shuddering, feeling as if his heart was going to burst. "I'm cursed," he moaned. "It's the only explanation. Every book I'm near bursts into flame. I've nothing left to live for."

Bitterwood shook his head in disgust. Jandra hopped off the barrel and crouched next to Shay. She put her hand on his shoulder. "There's no such thing as a curse," she said. "We've just had a run of bad luck. It's a time of war. Things get burnt."

"But-"

"Listen," she said. "Burke was right. Books are more than paper and ink. The information inside them is essentially immortal. Not all the books in the library are lost. I have images of thousands of them inside my head, complete editions. If I can get my genie back, I can recreate them molecule by molecule, the paper, the ink, everything."

"I don't understand," Shay said.

"I'm not following you either," Bitterwood said.

"I mean when I had my genie, I possessed total recall. Any book I'd ever read was still stored in my brain. They're still there, I just don't know how to access them."

"No," said Bitterwood. "I mean, you said you needed to get your genie back. I know you had changed it so that it no longer looked like a helmet, and were wearing it beneath your clothes. Are you saying you've lost it?"

"I guess quite a bit's happened since we last saw each other. Hex and I went from the Nest to Dragon Forge to learn more about the rebellion and see if there was anything we could do to help."

"But... Hex was a sun-dragon," said Shay. "Why would he help the rebels?"

Jandra stood up and turned away. She had her back to them as she said, "I mean we came to help Shandrazel put down the rebellion." She tensed as she said this, as if expecting Bitterwood to pounce on her. Bitterwood didn't appear to be surprised by this revelation, however.

"Why would you side with the dragons?" asked Shay.

"I was raised by a dragon. I'm afraid my loyalties have always been divided. I don't think that humans have gotten a fair shake in this world, but I also know from personal experience that most dragons are good, reasonable beings."

"Dragons hold slaves and hunt men for sport. We have different definitions of what comprises good and reasonable," said Shay.

Jandra's shoulders sagged at these words.

"I'm surprised Hex would side with his brother," said Bitterwood. "His philosophies leaned toward anarchy."

"I'm afraid you're a better judge of his character than I was," said Jandra. "I visited Dragon Forge as Shandrazel's amba.s.sador. Pet accompanied me back to see Shandrazel, saying he was the one human who had a chance of peacefully negotiating a settlement between the warring sides. Unfortunately, he had a poisoned dagger hidden in his cloak. He murdered Shandrazel. Before I could neutralize the poison, Hex pounced on me and ripped my genie away, robbing me of my powers. I was left to watch both Shandrazel and Pet die, while Hex flew off with the most powerful weapon in the world."

"Hex is only alive because you made me promise not to kill him."

"I know," said Jandra.

"Hex is the only blood kin left of Albekizan," said Bitterwood.

"I know," Jandra said, biting her nails once more.

"Will you free me from my vow?"

Jandra wrung her hands. "Do what you have to do," she said. "But he may not have the genie. He's probably hidden it somewhere. If you find him... it... it's possible that..."

"I know how to bleed a dragon of his secrets," said Bitterwood.

"I... I don't think Hex is evil," she said, her voice trembling. "He... he thinks he's doing the right thing. He thinks he's making the world a better place."

Bitterwood looked toward the burning tower. "You'll sleep better after you give up that hope."

Shay rose up onto his knees. "Jandra, if you have books inside you, I'll do everything in my power to bring you back your genie."

"You have no power, boy," said Bitterwood. "Hex would eat you for supper."

Shay wished his shotgun were nearby. It hadn't been by his side when he woke up. He would gladly demonstrate this power for Bitterwood.

"I think we should go back to Jazz's underground kingdom," said Jandra.

"Why?" asked Bitterwood.

"Hex and I left in a hurry, since we wanted to get back to the Nest to help in the aftermath of Blasphet's atrocities. We didn't search her island. I might find another genie there."

"You wouldn't survive the journey," said Bitterwood. "That kingdom was held together by her will. Now that the G.o.ddess is dead, many of the beasts she cared for will be hungry."

"I can't believe they'd still be alive," said Jandra. "That whole ecosystem had to collapse once the artificial sunlight went out."

"I won't go with you," said Bitterwood. "I rescued you as a favor for Zeeky; I don't plan to make a career of it."

"So what will you do?"

Bitterwood pulled an arrow from his quiver. "The G.o.ddess gave me this bow and quiver. The quiver constantly refreshes itself, growing new arrows. The arrows are living things, twigs straight and true, with leaves for fletching and a thorn for a head. This bow, which is strung with a braid of the G.o.ddess's own hair, is the most perfectly balanced weapon I've ever used. It, too, constantly renews itself. When the bowstring frays in the heat of usage, it reweaves moments later. I've scuffed the bark of the bow and watched it heal itself. I don't know how long this magic will last, now that she's dead."

"It could last a long time," said Jandra. "Bio-nano is resilient stuff. As long as your quiver gets sunlight, it should function for years."

"How do plants grow with no water?" Shay asked. "Or no soil, for that matter."

"Orchids and other epiphytes don't need soil," said Jandra, "Bitterwood is probably supplying the quiver with all that it needs. The human body sheds moisture and nutrients, like dead skin cells. The quiver grabs those for fuel, I'm guessing. After you work for a while on the nano-scale, you get used to thinking of dust as a resource."

"Perhaps," said Bitterwood. "But I'm used to thinking of dust as the fate of all men. My days on this earth are numbered. Watching this endlessly renewing quiver has brought many things to mind. I think I died in that cave above Big Lick. You brought me back, Jandra."

"Oh," she said. "That. Your heart was only stopped for a minute or two. You were in a state of cardiac arrest, but you still had brain activity."

"If I were in a similar state now, you couldn't save me," said Bitterwood.

"Not without my powers, no," said Jandra.

"You asked me why I didn't kill Chapelion. Why I didn't simply leap into the fray and take on fifty dragons at once. The truth is, despite the fact that you've restored me to full health, I'm growing old, Jandra. Zeeky has no relatives, save for her missing brother, Jeremiah. If I die, who will care for her?"

"What are you saying, Bant?" asked Jandra.

"I'm saying that I'm giving up my life as a dragon hunter." Bitterwood looked up toward the sky, at the few stray stars visible through the smoke that veiled the night. "If I stumble across Hex, I'll kill him, but I'm not hunting him. I'm going back to the mountains to search for Jeremiah. Once I've found him, I want to return to the life I once lived as a farmer. I'd like to raise Zeeky and the boy in an environment as close to peace and stability as an old fool like myself can provide."

Jandra's jaw slackened. "You're retiring?"