“I don’t like this magic.”
“It is science, my dear, not magic,” said Acronis mildly. “Someday I will explain how it works. Look again. You will get used to it.”
Aylaen raised the glass reluctantly and forced herself to look through it.
“He’s holding the spiritbone over the flame of the oil lamp. He’s going to summon a fire dragon.”
“I take it this is magic,” said Acronis. “Not science. If you could explain…”
“Dragons have the ability to take their shape and form from the elements,” said Aylaen. “The Bone Priestess dips the spiritbone in the element she believes is best-suited to her needs. You saw me splash water on the spiritbone of the Dragon Kahg. He is a water dragon now.”
“Raegar has decided he’s going to summon a fire dragon,” said Skylan grimly. “He’s likely going to order his dragon to set fire to our ship. Once Fala has destroyed us, she will go after Sigurd, set fire to his ship.”
“The Dragon Kahg would never allow that,” said Aylaen firmly.
“Raegar’s dragon will be hard to stop if our dragon won’t fight!” Skylan said, speaking loudly.
Kahg’s red eye swiveled in his direction, a spark gleamed, the eyelid flickered. The dragon did not slow his speed through the water. The Venjekar flew at Aelon’s Triumph, slicing through the waves. Acronis took the glass. He watched a moment, his expression thoughtful, then he handed the glass back to Aylaen.
“You are saying that Raegar plans to summon the fire dragon, cause it to come blazing to life.” Acronis shook his head. “Your cousin Raegar is a fool. He will have a mutiny on his hands.”
“Because of the dragon?” Skylan was puzzled. “His soldiers should be pleased to know that a dragon is going to fight with them.”
“That is how a Vindrasi warrior would think,” said Acronis. “You’ve been around dragons all your life. The first dragon those men saw just destroyed their city, slaughtered thousands. How do you think they’re going to react when a dragon bursts into life over their heads?”
“An uprising against Raegar won’t matter to us if his dragon sets the Venjekar on fire,” Skylan pointed out.
Aylaen was keeping watch on Raegar through the magical glass. Skylan marveled at how quickly she had taken to using it. Science … magic … one and the same to him. He didn’t take to either.
“Raegar is chanting,” Aylaen reported. “I can see his lips moving.”
“How would he know the ritual to summon a dragon?” Skylan asked. “He’s not a Bone Priestess.”
“The Dragon Fala must have told him,” said Aylaen. “The rituals we use for our dragons are ancient, but they originated with the dragons.”
A ball of fire burst in the air above the war galley and the Dragon Fala came into being. Her scales were bright burnished- orange, her crest reddish-gold, and her eyes blazed red. She was long and slender and graceful. The sunlight shone through her diaphanous wings. She opened her mouth and fire flared from her jaws. Her talons trailed flame. Raegar gazed up at her in pride. But in a moment, he was engulfed in chaos.
Raegar-thinking like a Vindrasi-had not bothered to prepare his crew and, as Acronis had predicted, the sight of a dragon blazing to life right above them sent the crew of Aelon’s Triumph into panic. The drummer beating out the time stared up at the dragon, let out a horrified shriek, and flung himself to the deck, knocking over the drum. The rowers were stationed belowdecks and they could not see what was happening. They heard the scream, however, and the sudden silence when the drumming ceased in mid-count.
Some stopped rowing, while others continued. The blades crashed into each other. Heavy oar shafts rebounded back on the rowers, striking them in the head or chest, knocking them from the benches. On the deck above, sailors were crying out in terror; the soldiers were grabbing up their spears, ready to hurl them at the dragon. The archers were taking aim with their bows and Raegar was running across the deck, bellowing that the dragon was on their side. Two spears arced toward the dragon. Fala snorted a puff of flame at them and they went up in smoke. She cast an annoyed glance at Raegar, who was knocking the weapons out of the hands of his men.
Skylan grinned. He almost felt sorry for his cousin.
Almost, but not quite.
The Dragon Fala flew toward the Venjekar, her wings trailing fire.
CHAPTER 8
Fala was a young dragon, proud and vain and arrogant. The Dragon Kahg had known many such dragons down through the years and he might have dismissed her as a heedless, reckless youngster. But the Dragon Fala was different, unlike any other dragon Kahg had ever known. She was an apostate. She had abandoned her faith in the Dragon Goddess, Vindrash, to give her loyalty and service to one of the new, upstart gods. The Dragon Kahg was more curious than afraid. He wanted to know why.
Most dragons believed that their goddess, Vindrash, was lost or dead. Some were starting to think she and the Old Gods had fled. There would be many more like Fala soon, for as yet Vindrash did not dare reveal herself. The servants of their enemies had seen the power of the Vektia spiritbones and they had learned the secret to wielding that power.
The Dragon Kahg was angry at Vindrash, angry for lying to him and their people about the Vektia spiritbones, angry for telling him they were mighty dragons, the mightiest of their kind, godlike and wonderful. But when the Vektia dragon appeared, Kahg saw that it was no dragon. It was death made in the image of a dragon. Death made in the mockery of dragons.
Kahg remembered what the fey child, Wulfe, had said about it. It’s old. Really, really old. It used to run wild, but then the gods of the Uglies captured it and kept it chained up. The power of creation was captured when the Dragon Ilyrion fell.
The Dragon Kahg knew the truth. Vindrash was not dead, nor lost, nor had she fled the world. She had gone into hiding. Kahg was the only dragon she trusted. She may trust him, but now he was not certain he trusted her. He and the elders believed they had discovered the true nature of the Vektia dragons. If so, Vindrash had not exactly lied to the dragons. She had just not told them everything.
He eyed the Dragon Fala flying high above the waves, shimmering orange and red.
“So you are the mighty Dragon Kahg,” Fala taunted him, her voice booming. “Come do battle with me, mighty Kahg.”
“You are the traitor dragon, Fala,” Kahg returned.
Fala laughed in disdain. “Traitor? What have I betrayed?”
“Our Dragon Goddess, Vindrash,” said Kahg.
Fala hovered in the air, did not fly immediately to attack him. She was probably delighted with her own importance, glad to talk about her favorite subject-herself. She would be eager to proclaim her views on life to this old dragon, who was too weary or too cowardly to engage her in combat.
Kahg was keeping watch on Sigurd’s ship, which was slowly if steadily pulling away. Kahg could see Fala was tired. He would keep her in conversation, allowing her to tire herself still further.
“Humans!” Fala snorted a gout of flame. “Look at them on board my ship, running about pissing themselves at the sight of my glory.”
“Why do you serve them?” Kahg asked.
“I use them, I don’t serve them,” Fala said with scorn. “I pretend to go along with the whims of Raegar, who stupidly believes he is my master. But, like you, mighty Dragon Kahg, I do the humans’ bidding because I am being well paid. The humans have promised me jewels. They have a treasure vault filled with them.”
“Have they given you any jewels yet?”
“No, but they will.”
“And what does the god Aelon promise you?” Kahg asked.
“Is that his name?” Fala asked languidly, flying lazy circles above Kahg’s head. “There are so many gods tromping about heaven these days I don’t know one from the other. I care for no gods, any gods. Why should I? They have no care for us.”