“Sirenfal, you don’t have to do this,” Linsha insisted. “If you fly now, the damage will spread faster. The splinters are close to your heart. The physical effort of flying could move them to your heart that much quicker.”
“We’ll find another island. One with food and water. I won’t leave you here.” She curved her neck down and noticed several of her scales had fallen off into the sand nest. With surprising delicacy, she picked up a brass scale with her talons and dropped it at Linsha’s feet.
Linsha stared at the pale metallic scale for a long moment before she picked it up. “Iyesta would have been proud of you, you know,” she said, looking up at the young brass through a blur of tears.
“Um, Linsha, what is going on?” Callista asked. “Is she feeling better?”
Linsha decided not to go into detail and worry Callista that much more. Sirenfal was right. If they stayed on the island without water and adequate food, they were dead. They would just have to take the risk of flying and hope the dragon could reach more land before the lance splinters killed her.
“She wants to go now,” Linsha said. “Get the dagger and the waterskin.”
Together they buried the tiny fire, gathered their meager belongings, and climbed up the leg of the waiting dragon. As soon as the two women were settled on her back, the brass took a running leap into the wind and beat hard to gain height above the ocean waves. The island disappeared behind them and the sea lay wide and vast below, sparkling in the morning sunlight.
For a long while Sirenfal flew silently, concentrating on forcing her wings to beat. She did not fly high but stayed low near the waves. This way, if something happened to her she would not fall to the sea from a great height.
Unfortunately the lower altitude did not give Linsha and Callista the best view of the sea, and Linsha was terribly afraid they would miss something. Her best guess was that they were near the chain of islands that separated the Blood Sea of Istar from the Courrain Ocean and that the tiny island they had landed on had been a harbinger of those islands. But if that was the case, where were the larger islands? They had been flying for several hours, and Karthay, Mithas, Kothas, or even Saifhum should have been in sight by now. But she could see nothing. There was only water and a large, empty horizon.
All at once Sirenfal lurched lower. Her head began to weave as if she could not see where she was going. Her wing beats faltered. She gave a low, keening cry of pain.
“Oh, gods,” Linsha muttered. “Hang on!” she shouted to Callista.
The two women clung desperately as the dragon shuddered beneath them.
Although the dragon struggled to stay aloft, she could not fight her dying body. She dropped lower and lower toward the water until at last she stretched out her legs like a rudder, spread her wings as far as they would go, and coasted the last few lengths into the sea. Water washed up around the women in two large waves, drenching them both. When it subsided Linsha and Callista found themselves gasping and sitting on a motionless dragon half-submerged in the surging waves.
“Sirenfal!” Linsha cried. She dove off the brass’s shoulder and swam to the head that floated in the water. She prodded and patted the dragon’s nose and rubbed her forehead, but there was no response. The dragon’s light eyes were half-open; they appeared dim and cloudy. There were no bubbles coming from her nostrils.
I’m sorry, came the softest whisper in Linsha’s mind—followed only by silence and an emptiness that tore at Linsha’s heart. The world rocked.
“No! ” Linsha screamed. She beat at the dragon’s head with her fist, flailed at the water, and bellowed her rage at the absent gods. “No! Not again! I’ve had it! I can’t lose any more! Do you hear me? Stop it! Stop it! I can’t take any more of this!”
The grief she had kept inside for so many friends suddenly came boiling out in a raging, uncontrolled paroxysm of emotion she vented to the cruelty of the gods in a screaming fit that lasted until she was hoarse. Finally her screams dissolved into deep, wracking sobs. She cried for what seemed uncounted hours, purging the grief she had locked away for Sir Morrec, Sir Remmik, the Knights of the Citadel, the Legionnaires who had been her friends, Captain Mariana, General Dockett and the militia, the centaurs, the people of Scorpion Wadi, Afec, and especially Iyesta and Sirenfal. She thought she had handled the deaths so well, keeping them closed in a dark chest in her mind, staying cold and professional while she needed to be. But this loss of another friend, another dragon, was more than her will power could control. She held onto the dead dragon’s neck and poured her tears into the uncaring sea until she was drained and exhausted.
Callista sat on the dead dragon’s back and stared open-mouthed at her. After a while, when Linsha’s sobs had eased to exhausted, hiccupping spasms, the courtesan gritted her teeth and eased into the water. Holding on to the dragon’s neck ridges, she pulled herself along the neck until she reached Linsha’s side and gently took her arm. She pulled Linsha back to the dragon’s body and helped her climb up out of the water. Both women were chilled and soaked, and they huddled together to stay warm until the wind dried their clothes. Callista gave Linsha the last sips of water from the water bag.
Linsha felt drained and weaker than a kitten. With Callista’s help, she lay down on Sirenfal’s upper wing vane and fell fast into a deep slumber. She slept through the rest of the afternoon, the evening, and well into the night.
She was still deep in sleep when a familiar voice drew her out into a dream.
Linsha, my beautiful one. Come talk to me.
She twisted her head around and saw him standing on the water near the dragon’s wing. Starlight filled his form with pale light and glittered in his blue eyes. He saw her eyes open and gave her his roguish grin.
That’s good. Come out of your sleep. You have cried your tears for all of us, but now you must look to yourself.
“I didn’t cry for you,” she said. “Good gods, Ian! Why do you keep coming to pester me?”
He tried to look affronted but it didn’t work on his spectral face. Pester you? I believe I warned you the last time and helped save your life.
She snorted at him, not willing to admit he was right. “So how do you manage to visit me? I thought Takhisis had all the souls of the dead under her control or something like that.”
Something like that, he agreed.
“Does she know you come to visit a Solamnic Knight?”
Her mind is busy elsewhere.
Linsha slowly pushed herself upright and looked at Ian Durne’s ghost hovering close to Sirenfal’s shoulder. “What do you want this time? I know about Lanther now—and surely there are no draconians out here.”
Green Eyes, don’t you ever appreciate me? He grinned, charming and handsome even beyond the grave.
Her eyes suddenly narrowed as a thought occurred to her. “Tell me, sir knight, did you know Lord Bight was a dragon?”
He laughed. Not until he bit my head off. If I had known that, I would, not have gone after him with just a sword.
“Do you know where he is now?”
Do you mean is he dead? No. Do I know exactly where he is at this moment? No.
Linsha put her head back down and closed her eyes to hide the sudden surge of relief. “Fine. If you’re not going to be any help, you may leave.”
Something cold like mist trailed over her face, and she opened her eyes again to see Ian hovering very close to her. His features were clear and sharp as crystal in the starlight and the look on his face was sad.
I did love you in my own way, he told her softly. But there is another who is far more worthy of you. Stay alive for him. Watch out for the sharks.