The sky above the sun-dragons was now thick with billowing clouds of gray smoke. Only the faintest hint of the moon peeked through the veil. Graxen flew wide of the combat, holding his breath against the stench as he rose through the dark cloud. Finally, he emerged into bright moonlight, far above the conflict below. He looked down to see the glow of the flame jets faintly visible through the clouds. He mentally mapped the flashes, calculating the speed and direction of each sun-dragon. When the moment was right, he released Arifiel's spear and went into a dive, beating his wings to fall faster than the spear. He angled his body so that he burst from the clouds well ahead of a dragon who would be heading directly for him. He spread his wings to slow his fall and make himself a better target. As expected, a jet of flame shot toward him, only to flicker out at least five yards away. He'd gauged the distance well. As the flame died and the dragon flew closer, the tattooed girl astride the sun-dragon drew the bellows wide once more. Just then, the spear emerged from the cloud overhead. It landed in the back of her sun-dragon, sinking deep into the beast's spine, puncturing the half-empty bladder behind the rider. The dragon's wings went limp and a huge fireball grew on its back, a miniature volcano that exploded with a light brighter than the noon sun.
Amidst this blinding flash, Graxen closed his eyes and flew with all his power toward the location of his next target. His mental mapping was rewarded when he opened his eyes and found himself mere yards from the next rider. She had turned her face away from the fireball, shielding her eyes with a raised arm. She never saw him coming as he slammed into her, knocking her from her mount. Graxen halted his momentum by grabbing the loose reins as they flapped in the air. The sun-dragon turned his head at the tug. Graxen grabbed the bellows and squeezed at the exact moment the beast's head was perpendicular to its nearest neighbor. Suddenly, the wings of that sun-dragon were ablaze. Its rider let out a cry of alarm as the dragon tilted in the air and went into its death spiral.
Graxen jumped from the back of the sun-dragon he rode, holding the bellow handles in his hind-claws. The bellows tore loose, and Graxen beat his wings to put as much distance as possible between him and the conflagration that grew as the torn hoses sprayed burning liquid in all directions. The sun-dragon roared as it slipped into a long, slow fall.
In the space of seconds, there were only two sun-dragons left. Graxen wheeled, calculating his next attack, only to find that the valkyries had wasted no time in taking advantage of the defensive gaps in his wake. The remaining two dragons were torn apart in mid air as valkyries swarmed over them. The wings of both dragons were reduced to tatters by the vengeful females, who let out a victorious war whoop as their much larger opponents dropped toward the water far below.
Jandra frowned as she studied the molecules of the airborne toxin that sedated Hex. The smoke was a mix of many chemicals, and she found it difficult to calculate which one she needed to break. Still, as she knelt beside Hex, monitoring his pulse, she felt that neutralizing the poison might not be necessary to wake him. His pulse and blood pressure were increasing as the residual smoke faded. The simplest antidote for the poison, it seemed, was fresh air.
She went to an unburned section of the tapestries that covered the walls. She ripped it down, intending to use it as a large fan to help circulate the air. She was surprised to discover an open door beyond. The cool breeze that carried into the room inspired her. She moved to the next tapestry and yanked it down.
"S-stop," a faint voice behind her commanded.
She looked back to discover that one of the valkyries was standing, her head swaying. The sky-dragon's eyes narrowed as they focused on the torn tapestry in Jandra's grasp.
"Intruder!" the dragon growled, anger giving strength to her still raspy voice. "Defiler!"
"Wait," said Jandra. "I-"
Before she could say anything further, the valkyrie charged. Jandra dropped the tapestry and leapt sideways. The dragon landed where Jandra had stood, her teeth snapping empty air. The valkyrie wobbled on unsteady talons as she craned her neck to locate Jandra.
Jandra summoned twin balls of flames around her hands.
"I don't want to hurt you!" she shouted.
The valkyrie didn't share the sentiment. She pounced. Jandra again danced aside, only to trip on one of the fallen bodies. She hit the stone floor hard, wrecking her concentration. The flames around her fists vanished. She rolled to her back, sizing up her opponent, who had also stumbled upon landing. The mind-numbing drugs weren't entirely out of the valkyrie's system. There was no point in reasoning with her. Jandra clenched her jaw. This would be a stupid way to die, gutted by a dragon she'd come here to save. She'd killed so often in recent days, what was one more death?
Except, everyone else she'd killed had been attacking her with malice. This dragon was simply confused. Jandra willed herself invisible. She rose to her feet and moved to the side of the room as the valkyrie carefully probed the area where Jandra had last stood. Jandra remembered one of Vendevorex's favorite tricks. She cast more dust into the air and willed it to the opposite side of the room, where it coalesced into a double of herself. The valkyrie spun to face it.
"I'm not your enemy," Jandra said. The valkyrie twisted her body to see if someone was behind her. Jandra didn't know how to make her voice appear to come from her double. She had her duplicate hold out its arms. The movement drew the valkyrie's attention.
"I'm Jandra, daughter of Vendevorex, a loyal subject of Shandrazel. I've come to defend the Nest."
"What's happened?" the valkyrie asked, raising a fore-talon to stroke her brow. She looked ill as she gazed over the bodies of her fellow warriors. "How did everyone die? Why am I still alive?"
"Blasphet attacked," said Jandra. "He's using a smoke-borne poison that doesn't kill outright; he's sent his army of human servants to finish the job. I'm here to stop them. I'm not alone."
The sky-dragon's legs suddenly gave way and she fell to all fours. Jandra wondered if the smoke was taking effect once more.
"What have I done?" she whispered. "Metron was a tatterwing and still I led him in! How could I have been so blind?"
Jandra wasn't certain she understood what the sky-dragon was saying. How was Metron involved in this? She only knew she had never heard so much pain in a dragon's voice. The valkyrie closed her eyes to the horrors before her as she whispered, so faintly Jandra nearly couldn't hear, "Oh, Graxen. What have we done?"
Chapter Twenty-Five:
Gifts of Monsters
Blasphet squeezed his massive frame down the narrow staircase and into the larger room beyond. The dank darkness reminded him of his imprisonment in the dungeon. He'd had better lighting on his journey in; he'd been surrounded by an army of torch-wielding worshippers. Fortunately, years of dwelling beneath the earth had left him with no fear of the dark. The torches and lanterns in the room above dented the gloom below, allowing him to navigate back to the tunnel with all the dripping pipes. He stumbled as he reached the water, and the splash of his movements echoed up and down the passageway.
Soon he'd left even the faint light behind, but it didn't matter. The ancient corridor ran in a straight line. He stretched out his wings, feeling the enclosing walls, and used them for a guide as he pushed forward. He could hear nothing but the splash of his own talons above the splatter of the leaking pipes.