After all this, after Dev ‘$ death, and such a death, and it still isn’t ended?
The fire dragon was struggling to free itself from its new foe. The cloud dragon Velindre had summoned from the storm was a very different creature from the white innocent she had sent against it before. This was a bigger beast, longer and stronger, vigour in every line of it. Its spines were the dark blue-grey of a rainy season tempest, paling just a little to armour its head in twilight blue. Cloudy white gleamed beneath its jaw and down the front of its neck but back and flanks were armoured with scales the hue of a leaden overcast. Its underbelly was the colour of the dirty foam lashed from the sea by a whirlwind. Its storm-blue legs were thick and muscular, tipped with talons brilliant as lightning as its hind feet ripped at the dull crimson of the fire dragon’s hide. The ruddy beast was held by the cloud dragon’s dark, brutal tail entwined with its own.
Both creatures were grievously wounded, each bleeding from great gashes ripped by teeth, claws and magic along their flanks. They had torn the scales from each other’s breasts, the flesh beneath lacerated bone deep. Bite marks showed plainly in the cloud dragon’s mist-tinted wings, the holes shimmering with rainbow light. The fire dragon had suffered appalling injuries to one of its wings in turn. The membranes between the long, splayed bones had been cut to bloody scarlet ribbons by claws and teeth.
It flapped frantically with its remaining sound wing to save itself from falling, all the while fighting to defend itself. Pulling the stricken creature mercilessly down with its weight, the cloud dragon brushed away its flailing copper foreclaws with contemptuous ease. Every blow of its own that landed sent a burst of blue magic crackling through the fire dragon’s hide, warping and splintering its scales, racking the creature rigid with agony. The cloud dragon’s broad head weaved from side to side on its long, corded neck. It gaped, teeth like crystal knives vicious in its dark blue mouth. Only its eyes were the same as those of the creature that Velindre had first sent against the fire dragon. They shone, living sapphire beneath its bristling brow ridges, as it darted its head forward to tear at the fire dragon’s throat. Ruby blood poured down the red beast’s neck and hissed to steam on the cloud dragon’s dark scales.
The fire dragon’s struggles subsided to no more than token defiance and its feebly flicking tail brushed the tops of the tallest ironwoods. The cloud dragon untwined itself with a convulsive twist and soared upwards with a thunderous sweep of its wings. The fire dragon fell, too exhausted to recover itself. At the cloud dragon’s cry, a spear of lightning shot from the turbulent clouds above to stab deep into the fire dragon’s side. The beast’s back arched in such agony that its lashing tail almost struck its own screaming head.
The red dragon fell to the ground, smashing the forest beneath it as it rolled down the slope, helpless. Trees held it for a moment before breaking under the strain and letting it roll free once more. Its flailing tail swept aside the bushes and clinging vines trailed from the chipped and broken spike. The beast scrabbled at the ground with ungainly claws in a vain effort to slow its rolling tumble. It could not find purchase in the loose soil, merely gouging great furrows in the dark, pungent earth. All along the trail of destruction, the crushed, sodden foliage was ablaze. Birds sprang frantic from their roosts, screeching their tenor. Some escaped but the slowest died in plummeting bursts of flame, devoured by elemental fire. Where’s the wizard woman? Where’s Risala? As Kheda stood, transfixed by fear, the cloud dragon carved a lazy circle in the sky, crowing its triumph. It stooped like a falcon as the red dragon moved, struggling to rise to its feet amid the flames that rushed to succour it. With a shattering hiss the cloud dragon breathed out a cloud of vapour that snuffed the fires, leaving the chanted stumps of the broken trees coated with ice. It circled again and this time a wind rose to follow its bidding, ringing the fire dragon around with splintered branches and ripped-up tree roots, showering the hapless creature with earth and leaf mould. The wind whirled faster and faster, narrowing into a spiral, pulling in broken wood and soil and even rocks from an ever-widening circle. The cloud dragon circled ceaselessly above. Every time it raised its gaping head to the clouds above and roared, a shaft of lightning shot down to pierce the whirlwind
The cloud dragon finally dived towards the dark spiral and lashed at it with its massive tail. The whirlwind disappeared to reveal the fire dragon struggling feebly, battered into submission by windborne missiles. Its hide was dulled with dirt and blood and bruises and it barely had the strength to raise itself into a crouch. All it could do was peer upwards, ruby eyes failing in the gloom as it hissed pathetic defiance at its killer.
The cloud dragon bated its wings and hissed back. Ice fell from the clouds around it—not the rare storm-born hailstones that occasionally offered these islands a puzzling portent, but jagged shards with razor edges raining down. They fell only on the fire dragon, pummelling it to stillness. The rest of the forest was untouched.
Kheda watched. He couldn’t have moved if the murderous ice had been turned on him. Someone has to bear witness. Even if I can never tell anyone what I have seen.
Satisfied, the cloud dragon turned to fly high into the sky, rising higher with every stroke of its wings. As it rose, the clouds parted before it, revealing a clear blue sky. As the creature shrank to a mere outline high above, the storm dissolved into rags of cloud that paled and disappeared faster than any natural change in the weather. The sun shone down, bright and warm. The cataract sparkled merrily, rushing noisily down the gorge.
The fire dragon lay still, the fire in its eyes quenched at last. Steam rose all around it as the ice melted in the wounds torn in its flanks and belly. Dark-red blood, no longer bright with ruby radiance, flowed sluggishly to the ground and stained the forest floor an indelible black.
Kheda watched and waited.
Is it truly dead? How do I make sure? Hunters die every year when some jungle cat or whip lizard turns out not to be quite as dead as it looked. I don’t want to prod that and find it still has life enough to crush me in its death throes.
He moved warily towards the frail vine and hakali-bark bridge, looking all around and holding his remaining sword ready.
Was this bridge that wild man’s work? His and some more of the savages? What will they do now their dragon is slain?
He froze as he saw stealthy movement on the far bank, beyond the ruin wrought by the dragon’s fall. Then indescribable relief flooded through him.
‘Risala!’ His shout sent lira finches fluttering up from the rock face behind him.
She moved out of the shadow of a stubborn ironwood and waved. ‘Where’s Dev?’ she yelled. Kheda shook his head, unable to speak.
Risala looked at him for a moment, then beckoned him on. ‘Over here.’
Kheda took the bridge more slowly this time, stomach quaking at the thought of the yawning chasm below him. He kept his eyes fixed on Risala who looked back, unwavering, her hands held out to him. As soon as he was on solid ground, he ran, slipping on the broken leaves. As he folded her in his fierce embrace, she buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Kheda gasped. ‘Ah, careful. I may have cracked a rib.’