69. Chapter 62
Chapter 62
Caelan
“ D emonhunter. Thank the Father." The relief on Idris' face as he welcomed me at Archeon’s gates was telling. He wore full armor and searched behind me to assess the force I'd brought. “Where are your men?”
“Just me, I'm afraid," Baris said. "I personally think I’m worth a dozen, though the ladies of Havard’s brothels might say two dozen.”
Nearby, a soldier dropped an armful of shields, which clanged together, joining the general cacophony of sound and movement. Archeon readied itself for battle.
“Report,” I said.
High Commander Idris bowed. “Several hundred of them are gathered on the far side of the river. We tried to go get them but the land over there—”
I shuddered to remember it. Shards of glass stabbed the sky, making a mounted attack dangerous and ambush certain. Not to mention the tunnels that could hide an enemy until you were right on top of them.
“—and their numbers compared to ours both worked against us. We lost too many men and I pulled our troops back, thought it wisest to wait for the reinforcements I requested from your father.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” I said.
“No disappointment, my prince. Only calculations. They’ve decided to come to us. My watch saw them readying themselves overnight. We expect them to begin crossing before Jupe rises.”
“What about the dragon?” I asked.
“He’s with them,” Idris said.
“She.”
Idris frowned. “I’m sorry?”
“She. The dragon is the goddess Asherah. But no mind. You’ve seen her?”
“Yes.” Idris grimaced. “She’s about the size of three alwashi now, and she can fly.”
Maybe I should rejoice at that news but it only made my stomach flip over. I may have decided I was on her side, but she didn't know that and my name was Havard. Dragons remembered their past lives vividly. If she saw me, she'd burn me and I had no idea what would happen if she tried.
“Tanead Tajawl escaped," I said. "He hasn’t been seen, but we must assume he would return here and try to rejoin his dragon. That’s why I came.” My words carefully left out what I meant to do about it.
Turn on my father and become the traitor that Raven wanted me to be.
I knew it was right, yet a lifetime of conditioning made it feel wrong. The way I’d always felt wrong. Different. At least now, I knew why.
"Haven't seen him," Idris said.
"He's here."
Idris held out his hand and clasped mine, a symbol of both respect and friendship. A grin broke out on his battle-scarred face. The man was practical enough to fear the coming fight, but he was a demon-hunter at heart and there was a grim eagerness in him as well. "I'd fight beside you any day, Prince Caelan. My men are yours."
“No," I said quickly. "You’re their commander and you’ll lead the battle. My priorities are Tajawl and the dragon." Commanding men would only draw more attention to what I was doing. If I could help Tanead escape without facing down an army of my own men to do it, all the better. I had no idea if I was prepared to kill men I'd fought alongside as friends and comrades.
I hardly had time to don my dragonstone scale before we formed up at the gates.
“If he is here, he’s about to be greeted by a few hundred of his closest friends,” Baris muttered.
"This force has camped across that river for nearly a moon-cycle and they decide to attack now? Why? Because Tanead is back.”
“Perhaps the dragon grew strong enough,” Baris suggested.
I shook my head. My instincts told me this timing wasn’t a coincidence.
“Ahh, my prince,” Baris said. He sounded uncharacteristically nervous.
I raised an eyebrow.
“It would help me if I were clear on our objective. Don’t want to go stabbing the wrong people. Or gods, as it were.”
I sighed. “You and me both. Right now, my goal is to talk to Tanead. That talk may not prove fruitful, but I don't want him killed until after we speak. And the dragon—we need her to take on the Ravager. She lives. But if we can protect them both without obviously proving ourselves traitors and making Vaharilar’s entire army turn on us, all the better.”
"Oh, that all sounds easy. Very clear-cut,” Baris said.
I dipped into Arbaaz’ mind. You ready?
He confirmed his eagerness.
Good. I would meet a dragon on the field today, but I was the descendant of Calathan the Conqueror. He killed a fully-grown dragon with the same weapons I had here today. But would they be enough to save one?
I looked towards the river as the gate creaked open. The top rim of Ksafa’s orb was rising just above the eastern horizon. Darkness had not yet lifted. “Come on,” I whispered, picturing the dragon, though I knew only from drawings in books what she might look like. “Come to me.”
Demons appeared from behind tall glass shards, arriving suddenly like apparitions summoned by a vengeful Mother. They plunged into the river.
Idris' voice shouted and our men roared in answer. Metal fists pounded metal chests. Our swords were a line of death awaiting the demons who made it across. The gate opened and the men poured out it while I lingered behind, my eyes on the sky.
You see her, Arbaaz?
He showed me.
Asherah was still on the ground. The Losians were trying to keep her with them but she snapped at them in agitation and rejection. As I watched, she launched.
Her wings were too small for her growing body. She tipped and tottered as she flew like a toddler learning to walk. Her scales were growing rapidly and hardening, but there were places where they failed to fully hide the sensitive skin beneath. I noted them, counting up her vulnerabilities. Her exposed skin was only one. Her horns were not sharp and her teeth were not long. Idris was too intelligent not to take advantage of these weaknesses. And her coloring—she shined blue-green like fresh lilies in a pond, bright against the shattered black and red landscape.
“She’s coming,” I muttered to Baris.
With Arbaaz’ eyes still trained on the dragon, I scanned the gathered men for Tanead. Where are you, Brother?
I need to see more, I sent to Arbaaz.
He soared higher and delivered a fresh picture of the frothing river’s edge where Vaharilaran men fought and died turning back the Losians who crossed. More Losians had fallen than Vaharilarans. So far, we were winning.
But Asherah glided over the river, headed for the thick of the fighting. Across the river, hiding behind the glass shards that Idris was right to fear, were more Losians. Many more.
Fuck.
I kicked Ufuk’s sides and rode hard for the front line. My eyes searched for Idris as well as for Tanead.
I spotted them both at the same time as the breeze from Asherah’s flight hit my cheek. She set down close to both men in the thick of the fighting at the river's edge.
Men ran from her in blind panic. She ignored them, demons and Vaharilarans both. Perhaps she could not breathe fire yet, or perhaps she didn’t care enough to kill them.
Idris shouted, calling for his men to hold. I opened my mouth to repeat his command before I remembered that it was not what I wanted.
I shouted to Baris instead. “Tell Idris there are more Losians hiding on the other side. His count was wrong. We need to retreat and hold inside Archeon!”
There. The most advantageous thing for me just happened to be the best command decision. This time.
Baris growled in frustration as he wheeled his alwashi around. “One of these days, we’re going to have a serious talk about what a personal guard does, Cael.” He kicked his mount and rode off towards the commander while I turned towards Tanead.
He was dressed in Vaharilaran armor. A helmet was positioned awkwardly on his head, tied to his horns with cloth to hold it upright. One of his horns was broken. He wore a large pack on his back and held a stolen sword. Suddenly the pre-dawn attack made sense. He’d gotten into Archeon somehow, but needed a way to sneak out, hidden amongst our men. In the darkness, his horns could be mistaken for elaborate helmet decoration. A house with the sigil of a goat, perhaps, or a buffalo.
Now the enemy had come to take him back. They died in droves at the river to get to him. He was their goal, the object of all their movements. But he cared nothing for them. His eyes would not leave Asherah. They were wide and round and reverent as she opened her mouth to roar in frustration. Her wings swept away the men who got too close to her. Her claws pierced them. Her slitted eyes scanned, her long neck whipping back and forth, frantic. It was like she knew he was here, but she didn't know where.
“Tanead!” I shouted. I had to get to him before he reached her or I’d lose all my leverage. I must know whether he would ally with me before I let him have the most powerful weapon we had against the Ravager.
Tanead’s eyes tracked my voice and narrowed. He spat onto the black glass. “You will not stop me again.”
“Just wait,” I said, dismounting. Given Tanead’s fighting style, Ufuk would be a hindrance.
“I have waited for her my whole life.” He sounded close to tears.
“I know. Just a little longer.”
Arbaaz wheeled in the sky, ready to dive. Better to get this done quickly, before some well-meaning soldier killed Tanead or worse, Asherah. Idris was shouting at his men to form up and charge the dragon. He was ignoring Baris' advice. He must have orders from my father to kill the god at all costs.
Tanead laughed, the sound maniacal. His eyes flashed. And then he ran at Asherah, straight into the fighting fray.
I followed.
The first Vaharilaran soldiers he came upon fell quickly. They were confused by his armor and didn't recognize what he was. The second set knew better. And so did the demons nearby. One of them—a man with twisted green and black horns—shouted to draw others and they surged into the Vaharilaran men facing Tanead.
Damn it. This was turning into exactly what I didn't want.
"He's mine!" I shouted. "Stop them !"
The Vaharilaran soldiers turned to battle the new force of demons, leaving Tanead for me. I stepped in front of him, blocking his path towards the dragon. Asherah keened, a pitiful cry of longing. She could not reach us without clearing the field. Wind rushed my back as she launched back into the air. She was circling around.
"I know who I am," I said.
Tanead's eyes were crazed. He was limping and gaunt and dirty, gripping his scimitar awkwardly to compensate for a missing finger.
“I've always known. I'll kill you anyway.” Tanead charged me, swinging his scimitar wildly. His control and speed were nothing like they'd been the last time; moon-cycles in my father's dungeon had weakened his body. I could kill him easily. Lucky for him, I wasn't trying to.
“Maybe it can change everything," I said as I dodged.
Tanead laughed. “You turning traitor now, Slayer?" His eyes kept leaving me to track Asherah's landing. The corpse of Archeon loomed over her shoulder.
The answer to Tanead's question stuck in my throat. I had to say the word. No longer could it hang there unspoken, uncommitted to. I had to be the man that Raven wanted me to be. I had to be myself . "Yes."
Tanead's lip curled and he charged again, scimitar darting like a desert snake, its blade a deadly tongue. At least it probably wasn't poisoned this time.
The press of bodies tightened around me. Idris and his men were retreating, pulling back from the droves of Losians who waded through the river. But Asherah stood before the gates of Archeon. This was no retreat. Idris was still trying to kill Asherah.
"Look, I'll fight with you to save her, but just don't stab me in the back," I shouted to Tanead.
His eyes found Asherah again and widened as he took in the soldiers surging towards her. He took off running. "I won't let you kill her!"
I swore and ran. When I caught up with him, I shoved and he fell to the ground. He was too weak to throw me off as I held him down and forced him to listen. "You're my brother. That may not mean anything to you but I was raised as an Havard. I am bound in blood—and that means to all my blood. The Ravager has risen and we need to fight him together. So I'll get you to Asherah if you agree to hear me out when this is over."
Tanead's lip curled. "I heard you were no good at lies but you're better than your brother. Do you know he set me free? So many Havards on my side." Sarcasm dripped off his words like blood.
"If I were lying, you'd be dead already. Now trust me or risk her life."
Tanead's certainty wavered.
"Just promise you'll hear me out after you Bond her," I urged.
Tanead sneered. "I don't make promises I can't keep."
Asherah's roar of rage as Idris' men reached her was more like a child's cry of panic and fear. She was a god but she was also a toddler, overrun and alone on a battlefield.
I scrambled off Tanead. "Come on."
I didn't wait to see if he followed. I ran.
Idris and several dozen soldiers surrounded Asherah, stabbing at her with spears and swords. As I'd expected, Idris had picked out her vulnerable spots. She was bleeding from a cut she'd taken between two scales on her stomach and the thin fabric of her wings was torn, sheets of nearly translucent skin hanging down.
But she was not flying away.
Had the wound grounded her?
No. It was determination. Her serpentine neck swiveled, snapping at her attackers, but her gaze kept darting back towards me.
Tanead must be right behind me.
She stepped forward, desperate, crying out in rage at the soldiers who surrounded her, impeding her progress towards her Chosen. Ksafa rose above the horizon, flooding the land with yellow light, and I saw Asherah properly for the first time. Her scales glowed a rich, multi-toned aqua. She was sleek and long; her tail whipped through the air like a snake. Along its back were small horns of flawless ivory. The claws on her feet matched. On the crown of her head, she wore a circlet of horns like a queen.
But it was her eyes that called to me, drawing my gaze. They shined like suns of brilliant emerald green.
I lengthened my stride, hurtling into the circle of men attacking her. They spun to confront me and then fell back, confused. I didn't attack them either. They were Vaharilarans. I would not draw against them unless I had to.
"Idris!"
The commander looked my way.
"Break off. Full retreat. The dragon is mine."
"Can't do it, Caelan. Your father sent special orders. I'm to kill the dragon and the demon prince at any cost." Idris looked over my shoulder and saw Tanead coming. Uncertainty came over his face and my stomach clenched in warning.
"Why is he still alive?" Idris asked.
Asherah wailed again, stomping her feet. Her glowing green eyes fixated on my breastplate, where the Havard sigil shined. She surged towards me and crushed a man.
Not good.
Asherah picked up speed, barreling through her attackers with an awkward gait.
Baris was back at my side. "Plan?"
"I don't really do plans."
"Demonhunter," Idris snapped. The usual respect was gone, as was the jocular familiarity. "Tell me why the demon lives."
Regret pooled in my stomach. Idris knew. My father must have sent a message ahead, warning him.
"Don't make me do this, Idris. I don't want to," I said. "Order a full retreat. Save the men to fight another day and leave the dragon to me."
"I will not disobey my emperor," Idris said.
I risked a glance behind me. The demons who'd crossed the river had joined up with their prince. They fought their way through the remaining Vaharilarans. The bloodbath would reach me right as Asherah did.
"Prince Caelan is a traitor," Idris shouted over the din of battle. "Kill him! Kill the dragon! These are orders from your emperor!"
Anger at what I must do roared in my ears and my skin tingled with heat. Idris gave me no choice.
I sent Arbaaz into a dive towards Asherah to try to drive her back. Her serpentine head snaked around, teeth snapping. She hissed and huffed. I saw the orange fire in her throat and dodged before a fireball exploded out of her mouth. Arbaaz' displeasure flooded my senses.
The men surrounding me stumbled back, eyes wide and confused. They did not want to be the one to face me. What if, in the heat of battle, they'd misheard Idris? What if he was the real traitor? A mistake would cost them their lives. Suddenly the dragon was a more appealing option. They attacked her with renewed fervor, halting her race forward.
"My father doesn't care how many of you die!" I shouted to them all. "He would give your lives happily and those of your families, too! His craving for violence can never be sated! Retreat! Leave the dragon to me! Save your lives to offer in service another day!"
Idris and I locked eyes. Anger sparked on his face. My fingers twitched on my sword and suddenly I was on the shattered black plains of Los again, Junaid standing before me, regret in his eyes.
Behind me, boots pounded the glass. Tanead was arriving.
Asherah swiveled her neck towards the Losians and closed her jaws over the head of a soldier who got in her way. She tore his skull from his body and chomped. Bones cracked under her teeth and his body fell, squirting blood. Her tail whipped out, its spikes cutting a man's leg in half.
"You have your orders!" Idris shouted. And he came at me himself.
Seeing this, a few men broke off from the dragon and joined him. I knew all their names. Hantos talked too much about his wife back home in the east. Emre's first raid was a demon hunt with Idris and me during the last wet season. And Demitri…well, at least Demitri was an asshole.
Baris was at my side in an instant.
“Traitor’s blood runs deep,” Demitri spat at him.
“The way I see it, I swore an oath. And I keep my word,” Baris said as his blade sliced off Demitri’s ear. The next moment, his sheath knocked Demitri's skull where the ear had been and Demitri screamed. He was on the ground; Baris shifted to face down Hantos and Emre.
“When I got your father’s message, I couldn’t believe it,” Idris said. “The Demonhunter—a demon.” He shook his head. “Father-damned shame.”
Our scimitars clashed.
Asherah screamed. She stamped frantically, shoving at the men who surged against her and accumulating small wounds. How many was too many?
Hold on just a little longer, I thought. And don't kill me before I can save you.
“There are forces at work here that are bigger than empires,” I said. “We’ve fought together. Kept watch together. Killed together. Trust me, Idris.”
Idris spat. “Rule number one, Caelan. Never trust a demon.”
Losians surrounded us. Idris and I had to break apart to fight them as they tried to cut us down. Though in no less danger, I was relieved. I didn’t want to kill the man.
But Idris didn’t feel the same. He cleared the field and came for me again. We clashed and broke apart, clashed and broke apart. He was like a wave seeking shore. He would come for me until one of us lay dead.
It was Junaid all over again.
And at that thought, rage rose and guilt evaporated. At my side, a Vaharilaran soldier was about to deliver a killing blow to a demon. I stopped him. Idris roared into my field of vision and I cut him down and left him lying open-eyed and bleeding out. I was done apologizing to men who tried to kill me.
I stalked towards Asherah. Vaharilaran men fell under my sword. Demons tried to kill me and I killed them when I had to. What side was I on? My own. I was clearing a path to Asherah before she fell beneath the slew of swords assaulting her.
Tanead was in the fray. His eyes kept darting to Asherah. He needed to touch her to cement the Bond and he was closer than he’d ever been. Only a few soldiers still stood between them.
I tucked my head and ran at them. "Come on!" I shouted. Tanead darted behind me, running down the path I cleared. The soldiers ran or fell before me.
I reached the dragon and veered around her side, my sword swinging in a demand for the men there to fall back.
Tanead stretched out his hand. Asherah’s scales were only a fingerspan away.
But Asherah roared in displeasure and leapt back. She lowered her head and snapped her powerful jaws at Tanead’s face. She breathed and fire poured from her throat and consumed his head and chest.
She could not breathe fire for long. It stopped soon after it started, revealing an unharmed Tanead, standing still and shocked before her.
His face looked as hurt as if he’d been dealt a lethal injury. His hand lowered to the ground, shaking. “But. But I’m your Chosen. You came for me. You waited for me. You came all this way.”
Asherah’s eyes turned to me and I forgot to look away. They drank me in, taking me past the swirling hues of green on the outside and inside the dragon herself.
My Chosen, she whispered. I have come for you. Touch me and we will be Bonded forever.
My heart hammered. I’d lost track of the battle that raged around me. I was in a world apart. There was only me and Asherah.
Surely it was a trick. I was an Havard, a Dragonslayer prince. My birth had killed her rightful Rider. She could not want me.
I know what you are. I licked your blood from the glass plains. I tasted your hatred. Yet still I Chose you.
Could she read my thoughts? My birth awoke the Ravager, I reminded her.
Hatred flooded me. Her hatred, I realized. There was so much of it. Hatred of the Ravager, but hatred, too, of mortals.
A disturbing thought surfaced: Asherah might not stand against the Ravager. She might help him destroy mankind, instead.
Maybe I was being a fool. Maybe Junaid had been right. This god was an enemy of my house. I could stab her with my blade and save our dynasty. Save all mankind. I would be emperor. Powerful. Calathan the Conqueror reborn.
My hand clenched and unclenched around the blade in my hand.
I will not move away from you, my Chosen. You will not hurt me.
Do it, do it, my father’s voice hissed. It contained the hatred of a thousand generations.
You’re better than them, Raven whispered in her subdued, husky voice.
My heart pounded and my flesh sweltered, heat pouring from my pores. The hilt of the sword in my hand softened, the metal dripping through my fingers like hot wax. My weapon fell, deciding my destiny. My fingers were orange as iron in a forge as I raised my empty palm to touch Asherah's scales.
I felt her pleasure like it was my own as she lowered her head. I knew you would Choose me, she said as my hand touched her forehead.
A wave of power exploded from my palm and rocketed through my body. It overtook me like a sandstorm, scouring my insides. It burned, oh, it burned. My head felt swollen enough to burst. A thousand cycles of memories poured into it. My mind did not know how to organize them. I screamed.
Arbaaz screamed with me. There was no room for him anymore. He was forced out. I couldn’t feel him. I couldn’t feel myself. I felt only Asherah.
Riders often go mad, I remembered suddenly, and a cackling giggle that sounded too much like Tanead answered.
I blinked and two sets of lids responded. The blood that pooled on the ground made me hungry. More Slayers had fallen than demons—a satisfying fact that paled in comparison to the feeling of completeness that suffused me. I finally was with my Chosen. But he was currently panicking. I'd have to readjust to the weakness of mortals. It had been so long.
Asherah nudged me back into my own body and mind. I stumbled and collapsed. My limbs felt like jelly. I lay shaking on the ground with Baris grasping my shoulders, shouting my name.
My head rang. Every part of me felt swollen. The Bond was making me sick.
You will adapt, Asherah promised in my mind. Her voice was the sing-song sound of bells tolling. It contained deep gongs and high tinkles and every sound in between, an entire choir in one being. For now, just breathe.
I obeyed, not knowing what else to do. I closed my eyes and saw what she saw once more. Demons surrounded us on all sides. We might be on Vaharilaran land, but Baris and I and the few others left were effectively captives.
“Close your eyes,” I begged Asherah.
She did.
Now I saw the world from above. I was in Arbaaz’ mind, looking down. I felt intense relief that my connection with him had not been severed by the new Bond. I tried to convey my relief and love to him. Then I asked him to close his eyes.
I opened my own eyes and saw only my own vision. I allowed myself a few calming breaths.
Open them, I said warily to both Asherah and Arbaaz. Triple vision threatened, but I used the skills learned from Selim to block it out. I rose unsteadily to my feet. Baris helped, supporting me with a worried expression on his face.
"Did I just see what I think I saw?” he said quietly.
"I am Asherah's new Rider," I confirmed. "Regret your choices yet?"
He must. Junaid had been right about me. I’d proved myself disloyal. When the Havardian dynasty fell—to the dragons, to the Ravager, to whatever destiny brought against us—it would be my fault.
Oh yes, Asherah said. I felt as well as heard her words. They felt like the kindness of a thousand mothers embracing me. The love of a thousand wives, an unconditional acceptance that only a god can give.
Tears sprang up in my eyes.
Yes, when the world changes, it will be your fault. How glorious, my Chosen.
I looked up into my dragon’s eyes and saw beauty, power, kindness, and loyalty. There was no evil in her, though there was much anger. And I was her Rider now.
I tried to summon up regret, but there was none in me to find.
"So much for working together," Tanead said. I whipped around, raising my sword arm, but my hilt had melted and my hand was fucking empty.
I reached for the dagger in my boot but another body slithered up behind me. The point of their dagger pricked just below my chest plate. It was the same spot Raven had stabbed me. I guess now I knew where she learned it from. I twisted my head to see who held me.
"Try it and die, Slayer," hissed the green-horned demon who'd rallied the Losian forces to Tanead's side. The tight muscle of his corded arm vibrated with coiled tension. His face was a picture of hatred.
Metal clanged on metal as Baris fought off a horde. Even he wasn't good enough to beat them all.
"Stop!" I called out.
I faced my brother, the Prince of Snakes, once Heir to the throne of Los. Now, he was nothing.
"You think they will kill me? I am the Bonded Rider of Asherah. I am Ead Tajawl's son!" I shouted these last words and murmurs spread like fire through the Losian ranks. I summoned the fire in my blood and it rose with petrifying ease. The air heated and wavered. The dagger at my gut receded as my eyes turned red as coals.
"They will never obey you," Tanead hissed. Everything that once had been his was now mine. The thought gave me no satisfaction. But it also meant I didn't need him anymore. Asherah and I could fight the Ravager without him.
"Let's see," I said.