"Do you feel no sense of responsibility at all?" asked Stonewall. "Whether or not you believe that Ragnar's war is a holy cause, if you have the knowledge that can lead to human victory, shouldn't you share it with as many people as possible? If you were to die-"
"I've made plans," said Burke. "I write down everything. It's coded, but Anza can read it, and so can… so can another person here. If I die, the technology isn't going to die with me. But as long as I'm alive, I'm going to retain control as long as I can. I don't want to see my weapons used against humans."
"Anza's not here, Machinist. You ask us to place our faith in an unknown confidant?"
Burke looked out over the rolling hillsides, at the scattered mounds of refuse that had once housed the gleaners, fellow humans loyal to the dragons of the forge, who had been the first to die at rebel hands. He'd killed more men than dragons that night. Anza had not shown a shred of remorse as she'd moved among the shadows, killing everyone she met. He closed his eyes, blocking out the memories. "For now, I'm the only one I trust," he said.
"I hope your pride isn't the death of us all, Machinist." Stonewall turned and walked away without glancing back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN:
BONE AGAINST STONE
Vulpine soared over the seemingly endless valley with its patchwork quilt of farms and villages. It was mid-day, though thick clouds muted the light and gave the land a gray pall. Snow covered the nearby mountain peaks, and the clouds hinted at more to come. Despite the ominous weather-or perhaps because of it-the dirt roads below were bustling with humans moving between villages, riding atop donkey carts packed with various goods. This valley was famous for being the breadbox of Albekizan's kingdom. The human uprising at Dragonforge felt like a distant nightmare. Looking down, Vulpine couldn't imagine how any human could truly despise the authority of dragons. Humans farmed, dug mines, engaged in commerce. Dragons guided them in these efforts, moving humans back and forth as the needs of the kingdom dictated. Dragons maintained order. It was a beneficial arrangement for both humans and dragons. A few malcontents couldn't be allowed to ruin the Pax Draco.
The valley stretched for over two hundred miles. Due to its size, it was divided into two abodes, each ruled by sun-dragons who couldn't have been further apart in their philosophies and manners. The southern end had been ruled by Chakthalla, Albekizan's sister-in-law, a refined sun-dragon with courtly tastes. She'd lived in a palace respected for its elegant architecture, a dwelling that contained nearly as much stained glass as stone. She'd dressed her earth-dragon guards in elaborate, lacey uniforms, drilled them endlessly, and never used them for war. In truth, Vulpine had always liked Chakthalla. She'd appreciated poetry and drama, and was a fine patron of sky-dragon scholars and artists. She'd also treated her human slaves well, which meant she hadn't created much work for Vulpine. Humans could be rendered passive through either fear or fairness, and she'd definitely taken the gentler path. She'd been one of the few sun-dragons to oppose Albekizan's plan of genocide. Of course, she was now dead because of this, assassinated by the Black Silence. Her castle lay gutted and looted, a stark example of the fate of those who defied Albekizan.
In contrast to the high-mannered Chakthalla, a brutish bull sun-dragon named Rorg ruled the northern reaches of the valley. At birth he'd been named Zanatharorg, but Rorg had dumped most of his syllables, along with many other things, fifty years ago when he'd adopted the philosophy of beastialism. Beastialists were dragons who shunned the trappings of civilization. They lived in caves rather than castles. They wore no jewelry, kept no painting or sculptures, and shunned the weapons and armor that other dragons had adopted centuries ago. The oldest known poem written by a dragon, The Ballad of Belpantheron, told the stories of how dragons had once lived like beasts while the world had been ruled by angels, smaller, weaker beings who nonetheless kept power through their use of weapons. Sun-dragons were blessed with formidable natural weaponry, but a sword and a spear were longer, sharper, and harder than any tooth or claw. The dragons had won their long struggle against the angels when they, too, had learned to forge steel and create their own weapons of war.
Beastialists, however, believed that the dragons of ancient times simply hadn't tried hard enough. They regarded the adoption of weapons as a shameful admission that angel culture was superior to dragon culture, and felt that any unhappiness in dragon society could be traced to the fact that dragons were trying to be something they weren't. They weren't angels, visiting this earth from some higher realm. They were the apex of evolution, the most finely honed predators the earth had produced. Embracing their natural role was the key to true happiness.
Of course, one aspect of civilization they hadn't rejected was the use of human slaves. Vulpine had paid many a visit to Rorg's abode, due to the high rate of runaways. Unlike the pristine, well-groomed villages of the southern valley, the villages in Rorg's domain were squalid and bleak, often festering with disease. This, of course, was the reason for Vulpine's visit. The latest outbreak of yellow-mouth was well timed. Yellow-mouth only affected humans, most often humans exposed to sun-dragon dung. Once infected, humans could pass the disease to other humans via exposure to nearly any bodily fluid. The disease manifested first as mild fevers and weakness, a modest sickness little more bothersome than a cold. The only hint that it might be something more serious was that the inside of the victim's mouth would slowly change from pink to yellow. The early stage could last as little as a week, or as long as a month. Finally, the afflicted human would experience a twenty-four hour period best described as an eruption. He would cough, sneeze, vomit, shit, and piss uncontrollably, sweating until blood seeped from his pores. The disease killed nearly half its victims. The most sinister aspect of the disease was that it could spread not just in the final, violent stage, but in the earlier phases as well. A mother placing her hand on the forehead of her child to feel for a fever could contract the disease, and then spread it to her husband with a simple kiss on the cheek. Even handling the clothes or blankets of one of the victims could spread yellow-mouth.
The disease was now rare through most of the kingdom. Most sun-dragons lived in palaces with good plumbing, meaning that their human slaves didn't deal with vast quantities of dung. Beastialists, however, let their droppings fall anywhere the urge struck. Since dwelling in a cave full of your own excrement was unpleasant even for beastialists, human slaves had the ongoing task of mucking out the cave.
Vulpine at last saw the bone field that marked the entrance to Rorg's lair. For half a mile in every direction, white bones gleamed against the gray winter ground: cattle, deer, humans, pigs, and earth-dragons. Smoke rose from the ground in tendrils at a hundred scattered spots extending well beyond the bone field. Beastialists had clung to one technology, at least. Since they couldn't see in the dark they still used fire to light their homes, though they eschewed metal and glass lamps in favor of torches and fire pits.
Vulpine swooped down into the black pit that was the entrance to an expansive underground kingdom, a network of caverns with ceilings hundreds of feet tall. Some individual chambers were several acres in size. It was dangerous to fly in a cavern. All sense of perspective was thrown askew by the absence of sky. However, Vulpine had grown familiar with the contours of the place over his many visits. He flitted like an oversized bat above the heads of human slaves carting out buckets of muck. A few fat and napping sun-dragons peeked up through half-open lids as the wind of Vulpine's passage stirred their feathers. Beastialists kept their large families close at hand. At least thirty adult sun-dragons shared this cavern.