"That's the spirit!" shouted Zorasta. "And, as of now, it's our plan. Split up by your flock colors. Green flock, clear the northern rooms, yellow take the south, white the east, black to the west. If you have armor and a spear, take the lead. No more than three from each flock can enter a room at a time. Always leave someone at a window to pull you out if you succumb to the fumes. If you're unarmed, get down to the beach and get water into anything that will hold it. The torches are the real danger. Douse them, and we'll make short work of this enemy."
The white, black, and yellow flocks spun away in tight knots to perform their duties. Arifiel was a lifelong member of the green flock, the same flock as Zorasta.
Arifiel cast her gaze back toward the central tower. By now, they were a quarter mile away, but she could still see the light of the human's torch in the window-only now it had been joined by two others. How many valkyries still were sleeping, unaware of the danger?
Zorasta apparently had the same thought.
"Our first priority must be to take the central bell tower and awaken sleeping valkyries" she shouted. "Who was on guard there?"
"I was," said Arifiel.
"You abandoned your post?"
"I succumbed to the fumes and fell from the window," said Arifiel. "The rush of wind revived me."
"Then do your duty and get back in there!" Zorasta barked. She eyed two armed valkyries who circled near. "You and you! Aid her! Go!"
Arifiel felt fully recovered. She set her path toward the open windows of the tower, building speed. She could see she faced three human teenage girls-no true threat for a valkyrie. The space between her and her target narrowed. She attempted not to be distracted by the movements in the windows below, as she watched guards land on windowsills and peer into the interiors. Suddenly, Arifiel realized that if she succeeded in her mission, she was going to be condemning every dragon inside to death.
She slowed her flight, allowing the two dragons who followed to pull beside her.
"We can't ring the alarm!" she shouted.
"What?" the one to her right shouted back.
"If we ring the bell, the grates will close and seal the doors and windows. The Nest is designed to prevent an invasion from the outside. If the grates fall, we'll turn the fortress into a prison."
"By the bones!" the valkyrie to the left cried out. "I hadn't thought of this!"
As one, the three of them pulled up, allowing their paths to carry them over the top of the bell tower.
"We still need to get inside," the valkyrie beside her shouted. "I don't know why the humans would ring the bell, but we should make sure they don't. And, who knows? Perhaps some other valkyrie might sound the alarm by instinct, just as we nearly did."
"Agreed!" shouted Arifiel. "Follow me!"
Again they wheeled in a tight formation, darting back toward the open windows. Only now, to her horror, two of the three torches had fallen to the floor. There was a single sky-dragon standing below the bell rope, facing a lone human girl. The other two humans lay on the ground, gutted. With dazzling speed, the sky-dragon leapt up and kicked out with her sharp hind-talons, cutting a vicious slash across the throat of the remaining girl. She collapsed in agony, her torch and sword clattering on the floor.
They were now only a few dozen yards away from the open window. A shout rose in Arifiel's throat.
"Don't!"
But it was too late. The sky-dragon had already reached for the bell rope. Arifiel's shout was drowned by the peal of the magnificent iron bell. Arifiel whirled to the left of the tower, avoiding the window, as the night filled with the rumble of a thousand gears and chains kicking into motion. In half a moment, the fortress would be sealed, leaving all the dragons inside to the mercies of the Sisters of the Serpent.
She glanced back over her shoulder, to see if she could identify this lone valkyrie who had just unwittingly doomed her sisters. Her heart sank as a familiar face looked out the window toward her.
Sparrow.
The brute rewiring of Jandra's brain had reached the peak of pain several minutes after the initial jolt, leaving her with the worst headache of her life, a skull-ripper that left her too weak to stand. Colorful explosions of light danced across her vision. Jandra had been unable to think during this time. She'd simply collapsed to her back and closed her eyes as she waited out the worst of it.
Jazz had been mostly quiet for the last few hours. Occasionally, Jandra thought she'd gone, but then she'd catch a whiff of cigarette smoke or hear a scratching sound a few feet away. Jandra willed one eye open. Jazz had produced a pad of paper and a pencil from somewhere, and crafted a granite park bench out of moon dust. She sat on the bench, making sketches as she studied Jandra. The stars above burned with unearthly clarity.
"You hang out with some very rude friends," Jazz said, aware that Jandra was awake.
Jandra licked her lips. "Wh-what have you done to them?"
"I'm just holding them for now. They seemed to have some pent-up aggression. A rather violent need to break things."
"They can't be happy that you've kidnapped me," Jandra said.
"There are more important goals in life than making people happy," said Jazz. "You feeling any better?"
"No."
"Really? Your nanites should be getting the swelling under control by now and boosting your endorphins to offset the pain. If you're feeling bad it might be because you want to feel bad."
"Why would I want to feel bad?"
"Low self-esteem. You were probably feeling pretty powerful before you met me."
"My self-esteem is fine, thank you," Jandra said. Self-esteem? It wasn't a concept that had been in her vocabulary before now. Her knowledge of it came from Jazz's brain blast. In addition to understanding the idea of self-esteem, she now knew what ice cream was, had a clear mental picture of an airplane, knew that penguins only lived in the southern hemisphere, and remembered that the first man on the moon had been Neil Armstrong on July 20, 1969. The new information in her brain seemed useless and trivial, devoid of the proper connections. It was like the loose pages from a million random books had been shoved into her head in no particular order. She suddenly knew how to make a coconut mojito despite not being certain what, exactly, a coconut was.
Jazz sketched her some more, then held the drawing up for Jandra to see.
"Like it?"' she asked.
Jandra tilted her head. Surprisingly, the motion didn't cause her wrenching pain. The explosions of color had died off. The crisp white paper Jazz held showed a pencil sketch of Jandra as she lay in the moon dust, one arm over her head, one upon her breast, her hair spreading out in a dark yet radiant halo. She'd been sketched with her eyes closed. Her face looked peaceful; her lips seemed a little too full in the sketch, however.
"You'll forgive me if I'm not enthusiastic about being your model."
"I know. I probably seem like a monster to you. But I'm not a monster. I'm just a human being like you. I get lonely. I have worshippers, but not much in the way of friends. I think, with a few modifications, you and I can get along fine."
"You mean modifications to me, I presume," said Jandra, sitting up. She realized as she did so that Jazz was right. The worst of the pain was gone. There was only a the memory of the pain still haunting her, causing her to move slowly and carefully as she stood up and wiped the dust from her clothing.
"You have more to gain from being changed than I do," said Jazz. "And, you've a lot to gain from being my friend. I've been sorting through your memories as you rested."
"You've been… you can read my mind?"
"Something like that. As my nanites mapped your brain connections they sent me back your existing data. You're a confused little girl. You've been raised by a talking lizard who didn't train you on how to handle human emotions. You're like Tarzan of the thirty-second century."