Possibly fearing what that shaft might do, Yemere didn’t bother following through on his threat. He simply charged again, and if he trampled Son-liin in the process-Gaedynn couldn’t tell-it wasn’t deliberate.
Gaedynn saw that he wouldn’t have time to nock, draw, and loose. As the dragon struck at him like a serpent, he sidestepped and thrust the arrow like a dagger at the side of his adversary’s head. But his arm couldn’t match the lethal power of a bow, and the shaft snapped on the reptile’s scales. The magic inside discharged itself in a crackling flash that stung his fingers.
Recognizing that he had no hope of regaining the distance that archery required, he dropped his bow and snatched out his short swords. They didn’t do him a lot of good. Yemere pressed him so relentlessly that it was all he could manage just to dodge and duck the creature’s gnashing fangs, snatching talons, battering wings, and whipping tail. Striking back was rarely possible, and when he could, his blades didn’t bite deep enough for it to matter.
And though the space, like a small arena with one wall missing, had appeared roomy enough when he arrived, it now seemed completely full of dragon. He repeatedly found himself nearly pinned against the stone or about to be shoved off the drop. Then it took an even riskier, more desperate evasion to stave off death for another heartbeat or two.
He struggled to think of a stratagem that could save him. Nothing sprang to mind.
But then two beams of dazzling light stabbed down from the sky. They burned into Yemere’s back, and he roared and convulsed. The roar cut off abruptly when Eider dived out of the dark, thumped down on the dragon’s neck just behind the head, and ripped out a big chunk of flesh with her beak. She spit it out immediately, possibly because it had thorns in it.
Yemere collapsed, and Eider sprang clear before the huge, spasmodic body hit the ground. Jet swooped down with Aoth and Cera on his back.
Gaedynn watched Yemere for another moment, satisfying himself that, jerks and twitches notwithstanding, the wyrm really was finished. Then he hurried over to Son-liin.
Somewhat miraculously, considering all of Yemere’s lunging and whirling around, she remained uncrushed. In fact, she shakily sat up as he approached, animation and bewilderment in her face. “What happened?” she groaned.
Gaedynn started to answer, realized he was so winded he was probably going to wheeze, and took a moment to catch his breath. “That’s Yemere,” he said, nodding in the direction of the carcass. “As you may notice, he was actually a dragon and using his talents to control you and make you do things to endanger the rest of us. But you’ll be all right now.”
Eider padded over to Gaedynn with a griffon’s uneven gait. He ruffled the feathers on her neck. “Good girl,” he said, “good girl.”
“That she is,” said Aoth, dismounting. “And you’re lucky. Taking on a dragon all by yourself was cocky even by your standards.”
Gaedynn grinned. “Actually that aspect of the situation caught me by surprise. It would have been helpful if the fellow with the spellscarred eyes had noticed what the whoreson really was.”
Aoth shrugged. “They don’t ordinarily catch shapeshifters because shapeshifting’s not an illusion. Be glad we heard Yemere roar.”
“Oh, I am,” Gaedynn said, “although if necessary, I would have finished him off somehow.”
“I’m sure,” said Cera dryly.
Aoth took another look at Yemere’s body, whose final shudders were subsiding. “The hide looks just the same as the hide of the dragonspawn that attacked us in the Eagle’s Idyll.”
Cera murmured a word that set the head of her golden mace glowing, so she, too, could see the body clearly. “In other words, it gleams like steel,” she said in a somber tone.
“That makes sense,” said Aoth. “From what I’ve heard, steel dragons are one of the kinds that like to go around disguised as men or elves.”
“But they’re metallics,” Cera said. “I wouldn’t expect them to take any part in Tiamat’s filthy game.”
Gaedynn grinned. “Sunlady, forgive me if this is contrary to the dogma of your faith. But good is never as good as it’s supposed to be. Although evil is often every bit as bad.”
“If we can return to practical matters,” said Aoth, “the important thing is that if it was Yemere who tried to kill us in Airspur, then there’s reason for hope that Vairshekellabex doesn’t know we’re coming.”
“Yemere didn’t think he did,” Gaedynn replied. He left off scratching Eider, and the griffon twisted her head and gave him a reproachful look. He snorted and resumed petting her. “He was going to fly off tonight and tell him all about it. If I hadn’t stopped him.”
“Yes,” said Aoth, “you’re a hero. Understood. Remind me to buy you a mug of ale someday. Meanwhile, shall we head back to camp?”
“Let me fetch my bow,” Gaedynn said. He retrieved it and was glad to discover that Yemere hadn’t stepped on it either. He grinned at Son-liin. “How about if Eider and I give you a ride back? She doesn’t have her saddle, but I can keep you from falling off.”
Son-liin smiled. “I’d like that.”
He held one of their bows in either hand and guided Eider with his voice and knees alone, not that the griffon really needed guiding for the short flight back to camp. Getting the weapons out of the way made it easier for Son-liin to sit behind him and wrap her arms around him.
“Ever flown before?” he asked.
“No,” she said.
“There’s nothing like it. You’ll probably come away from this little jaunt craving a winged steed of your own.”
After that, she was quiet for several heartbeats. Taking in the view, he assumed, or as much of the vague, black masses of the mountains and valleys as a person could make out in the dark. Then she said, “What made you think I was under a spell?”
“I grew up wandering and hunting in the wild too. Not exactly this kind of wild, but still. I figured you must have learned to handle yourself better than you have been lately. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have survived. I also overheard when you told Cera you’d mysteriously forgotten your father’s warning about traveling the gorge with the blue mist at this time of year.”
Son-liin grunted. “But you were so… scornful. I thought you blamed me for everything. That you hated me.”
“I assumed that whoever was tampering with your mind, he was taking steps to make sure no one found out. I wanted him to believe that one person he didn’t need to watch out for was me.”
“Well, you’re a good pretender.”
Gaedynn grinned. “You should learn too. There’s not a more useful skill in all the world.”
EIGHT
25 E LEASIS, THE Y EAR OF THE A GELESS O NE
The glow of Medrash’s blade dimmed. He grunted in annoyance. It took only a small exertion of his paladin abilities to make the steel shine. But the need to do so repeatedly was gradually depleting the mystical strength he might need in a fight. And he and Khouryn did have to fight whenever pale, eyeless beasts sprang out of holes or dropped from the ceiling.
But the only alternative to making light was blindness, and that was no option at all. Medrash breathed slowly and deeply, blowing out frustration and worry and summoning fortitude and reverence to take their place. When he felt the Loyal Fury’s regard turn in his direction, he slashed at the air. The blade flared brighter.
Unfortunately that didn’t make the view in front of him any less ominous. Several paces ahead, the floor of the broad passage he and Khouryn were currently traversing rose like a steep hillside.
“I’m not sure this is the right way,” Khouryn said. “Let’s take another look at what’s behind us.”
Peering around for potential threats, they retreated the way they’d come, to the carcass of the last beast to attack them. It had looked like a huge, furless, malformed bat, but had crawled instead of flown and had sucker rings all over the inner surfaces of its wings. Tiny chittering scavengers scurried away from the body as the dwarf and dragonborn approached. The torn flesh already smelled of decay.