Khisanth twisted her neck and was angered to see Pteros circling high above, clearly visible. Already the younger dragon was working her way around to the left of Khisanth. The smooth tone of Talon's voice was soothing and appealing to Khisanth, but she remembered Pteros once mentioning the dragon's magic, and she steeled herself against the voice.
What was Pteros doing? Why had he shown himself, and why wasn't he attacking?
Khisanth had no time left for wondering. The young dragon was nearly behind her, and Talon continued talking in those flat, steady tones that probed into Khisanth's mind, dulling her wits. He was weaving a spell of some sort.
I must get above them, Khisanth realized dimly. Focusing her strength into one mighty leap, she took to the sky. Her head was clouded as if filled with fog, but the sheer physical effort of the standing take off and steady climb rapidly cleared her judgment.
As soon as Khisanth was airborne, both dragons were after her. She had a small advantage from being the first into the air, but she would lose altitude if she turned to fight. She contin shy;ued climbing, pushing her wings as hard as possible, but Talon and his partner were keeping pace.
Khisanth glanced skyward. Pteros was still circling! "Is he insane?" she growled. Then she heard a deafening roar from below, and a blast of hot bile splashed against her hind legs and tail. The pain was unbelievable. It burned like nothing she had ever felt before. Khisanth thought she knew what an acid burn felt like from those few times when she had contacted some of her own spew. But those experiences were nothing compared to this. She felt as if her lower half was being scraped away by hot needles.
Anger consumed her, at these two dragons for attacking her, but also at Pteros for what she could only consider betrayal. Was he planning to watch her die, or was he simply too scared to intervene?
Desperate now, reeling from the pain and hardly able to continue flying, Khisanth wheeled in the air and pointed her shy;self at Talon. She did not just dive, but drove herself earthward with all the force of her wings. She could see the green spittle still dripping from Talon's pulled-back lips. The dragon's eyes were filled with hateful glee, but the look turned to shock at the sight of Khisanth's sudden plunge.
Talon tried to swerve away, but Khisanth was moving too fast. The two massive dragons smashed together, and Khi shy;santh locked her limbs around her foe. Her claws raked across Talon's back and belly. Her jaws closed on the twisting, ser shy;pentine neck, fangs stabbing through leathery scales and veins and threatening to crush her foe's windpipe.
Both dragons plummeted, locked in their death embrace. They flailed and flayed each other with enormous claws. Black scales and gobs of blood and gore sprayed behind them like a grisly wake as they rushed ever faster toward the ground.
With her jaws securely clamped around Talon's throat, Khi shy;santh disgorged a blast of acid. The other dragon shrieked and exploded into a fury of writhing and twisting limbs. The acid streamed into the wounds in Talon's neck, flooding his throat, drawing into his lungs. He was drowning in thick, oozing heat that devoured him from the inside. A grating bellow blasted a cloud of greenish steam from Talon's maw. The acid sprayed frantically in every direction, but still the dragon writhed and convulsed in Khisanth's iron grip.
Unable to feel her own hindquarters through the searing pain, Khisanth was about to pump another blast into Talon. They smashed into the ground, Khisanth atop Talon. Khisanth was stunned for several moments, but reflexively maintained her bite on her enemy's throat. As she regained her senses, her front claws pinned the beast's neck, and she tore upward, nearly ripping Talon's head free of his body.
The black dragon was already dead, suffocated, consumed by the ravenous acid. Clouds of steam billowed upward from the hissing, bubbling wound. Acid from Talon's stomach seeped out through the horrid slashes and punctures in his abdomen and sputtered on the ground.
Khisanth raised her head in a thunderous bellow of victory. Her head swam and her body throbbed. She tasted Talon's bit shy;ter blood on her fangs, and her own blood raced.
Then she saw Pteros and the other dragon circling and swooping high overhead. Both dragons bled from numerous wounds. Pteros's wings were tattered. Still he managed to stay in the air. For all his fear and worry, Pteros's age and experi shy;ence still showed in the contest with the much younger beast. Everything Pteros lacked in speed and reflexes he made up in
cunning.
Time after time they raced past each other, claws raking and acid erupting. On their eighth or ninth pass-Khisanth had lost count-Pteros suddenly rolled, exposing his belly but also bringing his powerful rear claws into the attack. One of the enormous, hooked talons sliced through the other dragon's hide and snagged a rib. The younger beast snapped as if a leash had been pulled, then spun out of control through the sky. Khisanth could see that her flank was torn apart, the rib pulled outward. From the flailing of the body she guessed she was still alive, but barely.
For many long seconds the body plunged, finally crashing into the stones of the ruined castle. The impact shook apart a nearby portion of wall, and its collapse added to the din and debris. Khisanth could see the body as the dust cleared, bent unnaturally around its broken spine.
Khisanth struggled to her feet. The fire in her back legs and tail was gone, replaced by a throbbing ache. She could see that many of her scales were gone, revealing raw patches of burned flesh. But though these wounds hurt, she could walk and believed she could fly.
With her anger once again building, she watched Pteros's descent. She was tempted to take wing and attack him in the air, but something in his manner held her back. He was still high above the ground and dropping fast when he suddenly
crumpled, then crashed into the mossy bog like a stone.
Khisanth approached him, ready to exhale a deadly cloud at the first sign of attack. Pteros lay on his side, watching through heavy eyes as she approached. When she neared, he raised his head, struggling to get to his feet. He couldn't.
Pteros's left wing was broken and nearly amputated; Khi shy;santh marveled that he had flown at all. But the real wound was in his abdomen. In turning to attack the young dragon, he had exposed his belly, and the monster had slit Pteros open. The claws of his right rear foot were embedded in his own flesh, trying to keep the wound from opening. Even so, Khi shy;santh could see his organs pressing out as Pteros's own bulk sought to burst him open.
"You meant to abandon me to your enemies. Did our blood-mingling mean nothing?"
"I didn't mean to betray you." The strength of his voice sur shy;prised Khisanth, who expected to hear a dying rasp. "I was just so frightened. Long ago, Talon drove me from my lair in this stronghold and stole my hoard."
"You must have known there were two. Why did you never tell me about the other dragon?" she demanded.
Pteros gulped stiffly as a spasm rocked his body. "I didn't know, I swear it. Thaf s why I was so scared."
Khisanth felt nothing but pity for the dragon she'd once revered for his venerable age. He was now as terrified of dying as he had been of living. Half in anger, have in mercy, Khi shy;santh stepped forward and placed her left foot on Pteros's neck, pressing it to the ground. The ancient dragon looked up at her helplessly as the talons of her right claw sliced across his throat.
"The Dark Queen calls you, Pteros. Go to her bravely in death as you would not in life." She knew the dying dragon heard her, but could not reply. Slowly, the life disappeared from his eyes. Pteros's wrinkled lids closed one last time. Once again, Khisanth stood alone in her realm.
Part Three
Chapter 14
Highlord Maldeev's admiration for his black dragons was undisguised as he studied his two best wyrms engaged in mock battle above Shalimsha Tower's drill field. Directly behind him to the north were the makeshift tents of the bulk of his troops. Past the encampment was the tower itself.
The highlord's appearance on the reviewing stand this day was as much ceremonial as official. As a consequence, he was wearing his battle regalia of crimson enameled plate armor with the dragon highlord helmet that completely enclosed his head and face. The mask was a simple affair, smooth at the sides and top, save for the two horns, with generous eye, nose, and mouth holes. The suit was well-insulated for com shy;fort at flying altitude, which made it quite warm for sitting on a reviewing stand.
The dragon highlord was reminded of a sunny, late autumn day several years before. It was the day the dragon who called herself Khisanth flew brazenly into the strong shy;hold of the Black Wing and made clear her intent to join their ranks. Maldeev had a keen eye for dragon flesh and had instantly recognized that this one dragon was worth three or four others and would be a tremendous addition to his newly formed branch of the Dark Queen's army. It pleased him to recall that he'd been so very right about Khisanth those years ago.
In a roundabout way, the ruined state of Shalimsha Tower had helped to bring Khisanth to the wing. Maldeev had found the tower in total ruin, a tower the higher-ups in Ner-aka had directed him to occupy. More roots and weeds stood than walls. Most had obviously tumbled centuries before during the Cataclysm. Maldeev had ordered his humans and ogres to repair first those places that affected his personal comfort.
The workmen had not yet completed the renovations to his apartment when Maldeev heard Khisanth's ear-splitting screech in the courtyard. The highlord bade the workmen silence their chisels and mallets. He poked his head out to find a strange and beautiful dragon in the courtyard below, preening for the benefit of the gathering throng. Without stopping to dress, Maldeev stepped out onto a balcony over the courtyard in his dressing gown.
No one could call a dragon slim, but the one in the court shy;yard was unusually well-muscled and lithe, with nary a trace of fat beneath her glistening scales. She wore an odd chain of swords splayed around her neck. Head held proudly, the female dragon had only to tilt her massive head slightly to level her fiery eyes with Maldeev's, even though he stood on the second level of the tower. Highlord and dragon locked gazes, sizing each other up. Neither spoke. The dragon did not look away in deference to the highlord's authority.
There could be only one reason the dragon had come to Shalimsha Tower. "Fly," Maldeev said, his tone more sugges shy;tion than command.
Without benefit of a ledge, the dragon leaped into the air.
She gave a short demonstration of her skills, including aerial i somersaults, wing-overs, and especially impressive midair stops and starts. The dragon seemed to all who watched her to defy the laws of nature.
"How does a rider affect your dexterity?" Highlord Mai- , deev asked when she again landed gracefully, soundlessly, in | the hushed courtyard.
"Not at all, since I'll take no rider," the newcomer responded in the highlord's own Common tongue. Though a female, her voice was moderately deep.
"Then what use are you to me? To the forces of the Dark Queen?" Maldeev asked, eyes narrowed, calloused hands on his silk-covered hips.
Prancing only slightly to cool herself after her demonstration, the dragon said, "Try me for a span of time at your dis shy;cretion and find out."
The highlord hesitated, considering how to handle such a spirited dragon. There was no question he wanted her in his army, but he couldn't let her think she had the upper hand.
"Can you afford to turn away anyone who would serve the Dark Queen?" the dragon pressed while he pondered.
At that, Maldeev made his decision. Clasping his arms behind him, the highlord turned on his heels and strode out of sight without another word to the dragon. Moments later, a lesser commander emerged into the courtyard and instructed some soldiers milling about to secure a spot for the new dragon next to Jahef s, temporarily quartered in the northern length of the tower's open-air outer ward.
Two years had passed since. The carving of dragon stables in the nearby mountains was almost complete. The number of dragons had risen to five since Khisanth had joined. Mal shy;deev had not spoken to Khisanth once in that time. He couldn't address her directly-for a highlord to speak with any dragon but his own was unseemly, even insulting to his own mount, and an implied elevation of rank.
Maldeev monitored Khisanth's progress by watching the drills and asking for reports from Jahet, his dragon soul mate. Maldeev had begun to notice of late that Khisanth made all the other dragons-even Jahet, the highlord confessed with a measure of disloyalty-look a bit sluggish.
Seeing Khisanth and his lead dragon flying together, it was difficult to believe that Jahet's reaction to Khisanth had been lukewarm at first. The two seemed inseparable now. Maldeev frowned at Jahet's obvious lack of judgment-it was most unwise for the number one dragon to so obviously prefer the number five dragon over all the others.
Therein was the problem. Maldeev could not promote Khi shy;santh to the level of her ability, because she was still unwill shy;ing to take a rider. She'd lost none of her arrogance. Khisanth's resistance bordered on insubordination. That made Maldeev look bad. Word would spread to the other wings that the highlord of the Black Wing couldn't control his dragons. Thinking of the recent problems he'd had with Neraka, High-lord Maldeev wondered if it hadn't already___
Damn, but sometimes these dragons were more trouble than they were worth, thought the old cavalryman. Horses did as they were directed, or were killed on the spot.
Maldeev resolved to deliver an ultimatum at his afternoon meeting with Jahet.