Kheda found he couldn't turn his head any more, not even to look back at the dragon. He could feel it approaching all the same, its every step sending tremors through the earth. Naldeth groaned like a man in torment and Kheda saw a faint red glint kindle in his crystalline eyes. Warmth wrapped itself around the warlord, not the sun's warmth but a harsh, punishing heat like the blast from an open furnace. Just when the heat was becoming too painful to bear, scorching his unprotected hands and face, Kheda found he could move again, albeit with every muscle screaming in protest.
How does that help me? Other than by letting me see my death coming?
He twisted his head to look for the dragon and saw it had halted on the far side of the thorny barrier. It crouched, cavernous mouth wide open, black tongue running around its grey metallic teeth. Golden fire burned in its amber eyes and the ebony ruff of spines around the back of its head bristled. Muscles rippled beneath its jet-black scales as it extended its steely talons, ripping gouges in the sandy ground. Dust rose from the holes the dragon's claws were making. Dust and then steam. The holes widened and belched hot metallic vapour. The dragon looked down
and sniffed. It retreated a few paces, lowering its head to growl menacingly.
Kheda's head throbbed unbearably. The oppressive heat wrapped still tighter around him and every breath he took threatened to sear his lungs.
As the dragon's tongue flickered at the ground, sand and soil flowed into the gashes. Only as soon as one was filled, a new fissure opened up with a whiff of sulphur and a soft crack reverberating deep under the ground. The dragon growled more angrily and slapped at an importunate cleft with a murderous forefoot. The ground gaped to swallow its foreleg and the beast recoiled with a deafening roar. It would have taken a pace forward but a fissure split the earth just where its foot would have landed. Red fire from some unimaginable depth reflected off the polished black scales of the beast's chest. The dragon reared up to rattle its black and silver wings furiously.
The ground shook and the dry sandy soil fractured all around the beast. Thistly plants and spiny fingers toppled into crevices opening wider and wider. Unseen in the depths, the plants burst into flames, adding a homely note of wood ash to the rising smell of sulphur. The dragon retreated, head swinging from side to side, its ceaseless growl now ringing with wrath.
The crevices grew wider still and molten rock bubbled up to spill out over the barren ground. The trickles flowed faster down the slope, running together, merging into one swelling line of glutinous fire. The dragon walked slowly backwards, looking from one implacable stream to another. Each crawling line of burning red was curving slightly, not to follow the lie of the land but to take the most direct path to the black beast. It halted and crouched low, opening its mouth and growling so low that Kheda could barely hear it. The trickles of
molten rock slowed and dulled and the murderous heat all around died away.
Intense cold replaced it as the air above them filled with twisting whiteness.
What are all these feathers?
As Kheda's bruised wits went begging for any explanation, the soft whiteness drifted down. It wasn't a cloud but something carried on the breeze. It wasn't feathers, nor, as he next guessed, ashes. As the flakes of this mysterious stuff landed on his skin, they instantly melted. He shivered violently, gooseflesh rising all over his body. Kheda found he could move freely now. The stuff was falling thicker now, blinding him. He wiped it away from his eyes, finding it turn to water at his touch. Where the stuff was falling into the crevices and onto the motionless trails of solidifying rock, it turned to steam.
Where's that accursed dragon?
The black shape was still visible among the storm of white and wreaths of vapour. It snapped at the swirling mystery, brutal head twisting this way and that. Abruptly it sprang into the air. The furious downdraught from its wings drove the whiteness into Kheda's face where it stung like wind-flung sand. The dragon roared, sending furious eddies spiralling through the clouds of steam. It soared away, its shadowy shape soon lost in the milkiness.
Kheda ached with cold, his teeth chattering. 'Risala?'
'I'm here.' As the wind died and the whiteness began falling precipitately to the ground, Kheda wrapped her in his arms. He could feel her shivering violently through her sodden, freezing clothes.
Velindre appeared as the blue sky cleared overhead. 'Where's Naldeth?'
'Over there.' Kheda couldn't resist a shudder as he looked over Risala's damp head.
The young mage was flesh and blood once again, his
metal leg the same blacksmith's contrivance it had always been.
'Snow?' The wizard turned a ghastly gaze on Velindre. The tiny veins in both his eyes had ruptured, bleeding vivid red to utterly obliterate the whites.
'I didn't dare commit myself to anything more.' She shrugged. 'I just hoped any beast who'd spent its life hereabouts wouldn't have seen it.'
'Snow,' Kheda marvelled. 'I've read about it—'
'These people haven't.' Risala twisted in his embrace to watch the wild men and women staring astonished at the piles of white now melting rapidly as the fierce sun reasserted itself. Several matronly women ran to fetch hollow gourds as they realised this unknown stuff was turning to precious water that was just being wasted.
'How did the dragon take you unawares like that?' she snapped at Naldeth with sudden anger.
'What did it want?' Kheda asked in a more moderate tone. 'Before the snow came—'
'It's a stealthy beast, and I was concentrating on saving that woman—' The wizard stopped, closing his eyes momentarily to veil their bloodshot eeriness. 'It didn't want to kill me,' he continued painfully after a long moment. 'It wanted me to feed it. It would have been quite content to leave me here corralling these people and offering up whomever I chose when it felt hungry.' His face twisted with emotion. 'Now leave me alone. I want some peace and quiet.'
His voice rose perilously and he stumped away across the snow-covered ground. Stopping by the sodden corpse of the first feather-crowned woman, he made an angry gesture and scarlet flames leapt from the body. Flesh and bones were consumed with incredible swiftness, the snow all around shrinking away. The savages watched him disappear into the dead wizard's hut. Most were still
looking stunned, fearful respect blended with awe in their faces.
'He's worked more magic today than he'd have done in a whole circle of the compass back in Hadrumal,' Velindre said slowly. 'He needs to rest, and to eat and drink, before he exhausts himself and collapses.'
Risala pulled herself free of Kheda's arms. 'I'll see if I can persuade him.' She went over to the communal hearth where various women were looking askance at the comprehensively quenched fire. Risala clapped her hands together and pointed authoritatively at the fat fleshy leaves. A woman immediately hooked a couple out of the wet ashes and offered them up. Nodding curt thanks, Risala went on her way.
Looking around, Kheda saw that nearly all the whiteness had vanished. He shivered. The sun was beating down as hot as ever before but some chill seemed to have got into the very marrow of his bones. He stripped off his sodden and clammy tunic. 'Are you recovered enough to drive off that black dragon if it comes back?'
'I very much doubt it,' Velindre said dryly. 'Still, let's have something to eat, before all the food goes.' The wild men and women were all delving in the wet ashes and salvaging whatever they could. The magewoman walked towards the dampened fire pit and an anxious girl hastily proffered a fat spiny leaf, wizened by the fire.
'Will it come back?' Kheda waved away an offer of inadequately cooked fowl flesh and took a stuffed spiny leaf instead.