Chapter 33
Every Mark requires a rite of passage prior to binding the power to the Priest. Like attracts like is the Law, and the Priest who wishes for the Lantern must find a home in darkness first.
~Rhaskar Thorne, Book Five of the Priests
Fiona
It’s been almost a week since I last worked with Azric. My body’s ready for a real test. While training with Darian and the rest of my team has taught me how to work with them, it’s these nights on the dragon’s roost that feel like they truly test me.
Training with my team doesn’t leave me broken like learning to fight the monsters that will be in the trials does. They hold back. They worry about my frailty. Azric doesn’t have to. He knows he can heal my broken body if needed.
“Nyxthos can throw anything at you,” Azric says.
“Maybe he’ll pit each team against the other.
Maybe instead, he’ll have you fight things that seem impossible to defeat.
That is the point of everything the gods have done for eighty years, isn’t it?
To learn to fight something no one else has ever defeated? ”
I step up beside him as the five dragons watch from the other end of the roost. Azric’s shadows hide us from the world on three sides, but this side, which looks out onto the land around Dunloch, is free of them.
It’s a dark world, even under the light of a full moon. Mist rises around the duskthorn trees, hiding the very ground from us, and it feels like we’re standing on a tower amidst the clouds rather than a piece of a castle.
“So how do I train to fight an impossible enemy?” I ask.
A rumble fills the air, and I turn to look at the dragons.
Sidon steps forward. He’s the dragon that Rhion and Ainslee ride as they save innocents.
He’s the largest by a massive margin. Covered in silver scales the size of my hand that shine of their own accord rather than a reflection of the moon’s light, he’s magnificent.
A mix of curled horns and short spikes cover his head.
His neck is long and sinuous, rising almost two cottages taller than the rest of the dragons.
His legs are massive, nearly as wide as some towers in Stormhaven.
Like a cat, each of his paws ends in long claws that grip the stone and leave long scratches with each step.
Unlike the other dragons, though, I can make out the rippling strength that runs along his body.
All dragons are massive, but Sidon is… muscular.
“You will fight me, Fiona Thorne,” he says in a rolling voice that sounds far too similar to thunder. “I alone have defeated a Hunter, so if you can survive me, you should be able to survive anything the God of Darkness puts in your path.”
I turn to Azric with fear in my eyes. “There’s no way in the thirteen hells I can defeat a dragon.”
Azric smiles at me, just as cold as ever. “Are you telling me that if Nyxthos were to set you to face a dragon, you’d lay down and die?”
“No, but…”
“Then fight. Stop acting like a stupid human and act like someone who could become the next Champion of Darkness.”
I want to yell at him, to tell him this is stupid, but Sidon takes another step toward me. He’s still far enough away that I feel almost safe. At least safe enough to think for a moment.
The beginning of a plan runs through my mind. I might not be able to kill him, but I might not get killed. That’d be nice.
I dig through one of the less often used pockets in my cloak and pull out an Infusion of the Vulture.
Gods, I hate this one. Just as the Boar forces thick fur to grow from my body, the Vulture creates wings that sprout between the plates in my armor and rip through my wrap, shirt, and cloak.
They’re built like vulture wings with lean muscle and hollow bones, so they don’t weigh all that much.
The process is unpleasant, like the itch of a healing wound, but so much more intense.
Those are ignorable, though. Like the Boar, there are real repercussions to the Vulture.
Immediately, hunger pangs make my stomach cramp as if I haven’t eaten in a week.
Hopefully, my very possible death by a dragon will dull the feeling.
I pull out an Infusion of the Phoenix, a very specific rare Infusion meant only to help Priests who have had their Mark of the Phoenix scarred through and rendered useless.
It gives me resistance to burning, but because of the way it’s made, I won’t have access to my Mark of the Phoenix.
It certainly won’t save me from concentrated dragonfire for long, but it might give me a few seconds of survival.
Normally, I’d never use this one, but against a dragon, I’m certainly not going to be trying to kill it with fire.
I down the Cat, Falcon, and Bear, but skip the Boar.
If Sidon gets his claws or teeth on me, no amount of thick skin offers any protection.
What would Cedric and Bram tell me? Look for weaknesses.
A dragon is no different from any other beast, no different from a demon or wolf.
Stay away from the teeth and front claws.
Watch for kicks. That tail looks like it could be brutal.
Watch those wings. How am I supposed to fight something that can fly? My bow.
I turn to Azric as Sidon takes another step towards me. “What does lightning do to a dragon?”
He suddenly becomes very serious. “Do not use lightning against him.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because it can kill him. The goal isn’t to kill him. It’s to fight him and not die. I… I didn’t…”
“The girl can use whatever she wishes,” Sidon says, his head coming down to ground level for the first time. “If a human, even one with tricks and lightning, can kill me, then I deserve to die.”
He lunges at me. The Falcon spurs me into motion, and I leap forward and to the left.
I feel his head rush past me, jaws snapping as I roll.
My wings are pulled tight against my body, and as soon as I stand up, I look upward.
I’m underneath him, a dangerous spot. All he’d have to do is lie down, and I’d be crushed.
Instead, he steps, the massive paw coming down to smash me against the stones.
I roll again, and dust flies into the air as stone shakes right behind me. I race toward his back leg and leap onto it. Just like demons, those back legs are for strength and don’t have as much mobility. My hands cling to the ridge around each of his scales.
It’s easier than climbing a wall. There are hand and footholds everywhere, and I scale it as if I were created for the task, my hands and feet moving on instinct. While I climb, I try to figure out how I’m supposed to do anything beyond not dying. I’m supposed to fight Sidon, not just escape him.
The bow really is my only weapon. Even if I were strong enough to pierce his scales, which I’m not, a dagger just doesn’t go deep enough to actually wound him. I’m not allowed to use Marks. My bow and those lightning arrows are the only answer.
First, though, I need to get onto his back.
Strangely enough, being on a dragon’s back seems like the safest place to be.
Then he leaps, and everything changes. His wings, as wide as he is tall, beat, and it’s as if he’s thrust us into the path of a storm.
The world around me becomes a mass of swirling wind.
I hang on, not able to make any progress even though I’m almost to the curve of his hip. I can feel every wing beat as he soars into the air, but thanks to the Bear, I hang on. Then, again, the world changes, and it’s like my body’s forgotten where the ground is.
It takes a moment to understand what’s happened. He’s upside down. I remind myself of the wings on my back. If I fall, I won’t die. Probably. I wish I’d had more than a single chance to use the Vulture in my training.
My hands shift to hold me as the sky turns into the ground. The toes of my boots hook under a scale, and I’m a little terrified of whether I’ll be able to stay on.
Sidon was trying to knock me off, but he might have just given me the perfect tool to get onto his back.
If I could control my fall, I wouldn’t have to climb.
I just can’t do it from this position. I need to flip upside down so I’m falling feet first rather than headfirst. Again, I repeat to myself that falling doesn’t mean I’ll die.
I let go with my feet. My muscles tighten, holding me still while only my grip keeps me from falling.
I couldn’t hold this position for long, but I don’t have to.
I spin on the dragon, my feet coming down and my head moving upward.
I breathe a sigh of relief as my heels find another scale to support them, and I’m left with my back to the dragon’s leg.
I’m still not quite in the right position.
With a single hand on the dragon scale, I rotate and turn my body to where I’m facing the leg again.
If I didn’t have the Bear and Cat running in my veins, I’d have been pulled away by the hurricane force winds already.
I let go and slide. My wings flare, slowing me some. My legs and arms are wrapped around him to steady me and make sure I don’t fly off. Just as I get to his hip, he changes orientation again. I cling to his scales. My feet dangle, which is utterly terrifying.
Just like before, he spins, but instead of ending upside down, I’m lying down on his hip.
My heart’s racing like never before as I do my best to stand up.
His back is almost ten feet across with a long length of silver spines running down his backbone that are as thick as flagpoles and end in a sharp point.