He tried to leap to his feet, but his arms and legs would not work the way they needed to. He felt as powerless as a newborn child.
“Esprë!” he called out. The word felt strange on his tongue, but he tried it again. “Esprë!”
The girl did not stop.
Kandler flung his head to the side to see Greffykor leaning over Burch, his claw glowing once more. The dragon touched a silvery talon to the shifter’s shoulder, and the color that fled from his claw enveloped Burch’s form.
Where the glow touched, the frost covering the shifter melted away, leaving him soaked through. Soon, Burch stopped shivering, and his mouth twisted into a snarl.
“Don’t do it!” Burch shouted after the young elf.
Kandler’s stomach flipped when he saw the girl hesitate near the top of the rope. “Esprë!” he called. “Come back!”
Then he noticed the black glow spreading over the girl’s hands as she reached for the lip of the upper floor.
At first, Kandler couldn’t understand what she might be doing. Had she changed her mind about sacrificing herself to the dragon queen on behalf of the others? Would she try to kill the creature instead?
Then Te’oma’s white oval of a face appeared leering down over Esprë’s shoulder.
“No!” Kandler said.
He flipped over on to his belly and pushed himself to his knees. He spotted his fangblade on the floor in front of him and snatched it up in an unsteady fist.
The feel of the hilt in his hand gave Kandler hope. He was not a diplomat but a fighter. He solved problems not with his head but the edge of his sword. With a blade like this in his hands, anything could be possible.
The justicar didn’t think about how tired he was or how much the effort to get back up hurt or about the dragon standing next to him. He focused on Esprë and her alone. He had to get up there and stop her. He had to save her somehow, whether that meant finding a way to abscond with her on the airship or just killing every damn dragon that crossed his path.
Kandler staggered to his feet and looked up to see what had happed to Esprë. The silver dragon towered there before him like a moon blocking out part of the sky.
“Get out of my way,” Kandler said.
“I will not kill you,” Greffykor said, “but you will not interfere. The girl has made her decision—the right decision—and you cannot stop her.”
Kandler brought his sword over his head and slashed out at the dragon. Greffykor plucked back its claw but not fast enough. The fangblade hacked off one of the dragon’s talons, which clattered on the floor like a dropped dagger.
Unperturbed, the dragon stood up on its hind legs, stretched its wings, and buffeted the air with them. The resultant wind knocked Kandler from his feet. He managed to keep hold of his blade, but only by sheer determination.
The dragon slunk back down onto its haunches and regarded the two intruders. His silvery eyes shone like mirrors in the light cast by the glowing runes set into the various rings that hung about the cavernous chamber.
Defiant, Kandler struggled to his feet once more, this time using his sword as a crutch to help keep himself standing tall. Locking his legs into a warrior’s stance, he hefted the sword once more and prepared to charge. He meant to save Esprë now or die trying.
The justicar felt a taloned hand on his shoulder, and he spun about to find Burch standing behind him, a forlorn look on his face.
“Give it up, boss,” Burch said. “She’s gone.”
Kandler gasped at what he could only see as an act of betrayal by his best friend. He shrugged the shifter’s hand off his shoulder and brandished his sword between them.
“No,” he said. “No one’s going to stop me. Not even you.”
“What about her?” Burch asked, pointing upward.
Kandler craned his neck back and saw nothing. Esprë wasn’t there at the lip of the hole anymore, and neither was Te’oma. It took him a moment to spy what else was gone.
The rope.
“We’re stuck down here,” Burch said.
Kandler cast his gaze around the room, scanning the walls for some kind of opening—anything at all. There had to be another way to the upper floor: a set of stairs, a series of rungs carved into the tower’s wall, a flying platform—anything.
“Your cause is hopeless,” Greffykor said.
Maybe he could climb from one rotating ring to the next, Kandler thought. He sheathed his sword and leaped for the nearest one. He caught it halfway up its side, but as it took his weight it spun in midair—suspended in no way that the justicar could discern—so that he hung from its lowest possible point.
Kandler dropped back to the ground and bellowed in rage. “This can’t happen,” he said. “I won’t let it!”
“The choice is no longer yours,” Greffykor said. “Perhaps it never was.”
Kandler turned to Burch.
“Only one way out of here, boss,” the shifter said. “Besides dying, that is.”
Hope started to spark in Kandler’s heart, but the look his friend gave him snuffed it out. Burch pointed over Kandler’s shoulder at the dragon. “We got to hitch a ride.” Kandler scowled. He wondered for a moment if they could kill the dragon and then climb to the upper floor on the creature’s corpse. He knew it was nothing more than a desperate fantasy though.
“All right,” he said in a beaten voice, tinged with desperation. “What will it take for you to fly us up there?”
To Kandler’s surprise, the dragon did not laugh at the question.
“Put down your weapons,” Greffykor said, “and I will carry you up to where you wish to go.”
Kandler hefted the fangblade in his hand for a moment. Without the blade, he didn’t have a prayer of hurting the dragon queen, but the blade would do him no good down here.
He dumped the fangblade onto the floor. Burch’s crossbow and knife clattered there next to it.
“Very well,” Kandler said, feeling as naked as he ever had in his life. “Let’s go.”
57
Te’oma backpedaled, dodging just out of Esprë s lethal reach. The changeling felt the chill air left behind in the wake of the girl’s fingers as they brushed by her.
“Almost, dear.” Te’oma clucked her tongue. “Though I’m afraid, as always, that you don’t have that killer instinct.” Esprë snarled as she pulled herself up over the lip of the hole. “Get a little bit closer, and maybe you’ll find out.” “What makes you so determined to kill me before you kill yourself?” Te’oma asked. “What difference will my fate make to you when you’re dead?”
“It’ll help me enjoy my last moments,” the girl said. As she spoke, she reached back behind her and began to haul up the rope.
Te’oma smiled. The girl had grown a great deal in the past few weeks. Even with everything going on around her, she still kept cool enough to realize that she needed to cover her escape from Kandler and Burch. She looked very much like the girl the changeling had kidnapped in Mardakine, but she acted far more worldly.
Te’oma took some small amount of pride in knowing she had helped make that happen. It helped to balance out the shame she felt for the same deeds.
“Do you really plan to end your life,” Te’oma said, “or is this just a ploy to get close enough to kill the dragon queen?”
Esprë smirked at the changeling. She’d never looked so adult since Te’oma had known her. Something about her eyes had changed. If not older, they shone with a hard-won wisdom that had been thrust upon her by the turns her life had taken.
Te’oma imagined that the girl could never have dreamed of finding herself here in Argonnessen dealing with dragons who wanted her dead. She’d probably hoped to live for years in Mardakine with Kandler, only leaving once she’d buried him. Perhaps then she’d have made her way back to Aerenal, hoping to connect with her long-lost father.