Chapter 42
Zogar
Joined by Surath and Ersot, I swoop repeatedly over the buildings of camp and the fields that lie between those buildings and the dragon prison.
I lay down another long stream of fire, burning lines in the grasses, threatening the humans, and Rosomon tenses above me. We agreed that I would avoid unnecessary killing.
I’m the only one of the dragons in flight who has a rider atop them, but none of the humans on the ground have figured that out.
They will know the truth soon enough, but part of our plan depends on the humans believing that Ersot’s rider, Treacher, is in the air.
Before we flew back through the veil, I agreed to a plan suggested by Treacher.
It’s a good plan, and Rosomon thinks we can trust him.
While Surath, Ersot and I distract everyone from the air, Treacher and Xendus will enter the dungeon and free Saxon.
Surath wanted to be the one to go with Treacher, but he pointed out that there is no chance a woman would be allowed anywhere near the building.
I suggested they pretend that she’s Treacher’s servant, or a concubine he’s bringing to service Saxon, but no one else agreed with that plan, so I conceded.
Several more dragons have taken flight, and they race toward us, Nyxarious in the lead.
What’s happening? she asks me.
I have many questions for her. She’s carrying a human who’s definitely our enemy, so I save my questions for now.
We’re distracting the humans.
Tell me how I can help. Nyx shoots a long stream of fire that paints the outside wall of the camp’s barracks with fire, and her rider, the one they call Roule, fights against her.
I communicate with the other dragons in flight, telling them to disobey their riders’ wishes and join me in terrorizing the humans on the ground.
Not one dragon questions my orders, and our bodies paint lines of flashing scales across the sky, as our breath lights the ground ablaze and stains it with ash.
What’s that? I ask Rosomon as we fly over an open courtyard at camp. I don’t remember that structure.
“It wasn’t there before,” she tells me. “It’s hard to tell from up here, but it looks like a large shrine to Othrix.”
Anger bubbles inside me. I should burn this effigy to the ground. Turn it into a lump of molten metal.
It’s new, Nyxarious tells me. My rider is very proud of it. It was a gift of thanks from someone he calls prime klerick.
We swoop over the courtyard again. I don’t understand how these humans became so superstitious and enthralled by the image of a simple manticore.
This world of Light, created for them during the Great Separation, was designed to guard against such things.
We believed that, with no Darkness to threaten them, these mortals would not feel the need for imaginary gods to protect them.
Clearly, we were wrong.
Nyxarious swoops low over the courtyard, and her talons come close to touching the long sharp spire at the top of the statue.
I should knock it over, she says. Show them their god has no power.
Her rider is shouting and straining against her, rage and fear on his face.
“Master Roule is terrified,” Rosomon says. “Can you tell Nyxarious to land?”
Do you think that’s wise, my love? I ask her. We should give Xendus and Treacher more time to rescue Saxon. Nyxarious’s rider has the power to thwart our plans.
“But does she need to scare him like that?”
Ahead of us, Nyx is performing tight barrel rolls, and from the way her rider’s reacting, I feel certain she’s loosened her knot, and possibly released the tendrils of magic which would normally secure him.
Based on this man’s thoughts, Nyx says, I should drop him this moment.
I chuckle. Sounds like he deserves it. I’ve never known Nyx to be this angry or vengeful, but she knows better what her rider has been saying and thinking. And she knows more about what he’s done.
Surath leads a large group of the dragons away from the main buildings, and they paint the fields and the walls around the prison with fire. I keep close to Nyxarious and her rider as she makes another pass across the courtyard.
Nyxarious flips to her side. Her rider drops.
Rosomon screams, and Roule lands, impaled on the statue’s spire.
“Why did she do that?” Rosomon is frantic atop me. “Roule didn’t deserve to die!”
I’m less sure about that, but my immediate concern is for Nyxarious. She can no longer see properly. I’m not even positive she can stay in the sky.
Careful Nyx, I call out to her. I’ll guide you down.
We fly next to her, and it’s not hard to see her terror, or hear her regret. Her words and thoughts are faint in my mind, now she has no bond with a mortal to enhance her powers.
Be calm, I tell her. Swoop to your right. Lower now. That’s the way.
I tell the other dragons to clear a safe space for her to land in the field.
But instead of following my instructions, Nyxarious heads toward the barrier mountains that lie between us and the veil. Does she plan to cross on her own, so she can shift? I doubt she’ll have the strength to part the veil.
I must follow her, I tell Rosomon.
“I understand,” she says, and I feel her concern. My wife does not agree with what Nyxarious did but doesn’t want her to die for it.
Nyxarious blocks my efforts to communicate—either that or she no longer has the ability—and she flies recklessly.
At least she hasn’t fallen from the sky.
In all this time with no access to Darkness, none of us could lift off the ground without a rider, but Nyx has answered the question of whether or not we can stay in the air unmounted.
I fly around her, trying to guide her to a safe landing. But she veers toward a mountain peak.
Stop, I shout. I could fly past her and cut her off, but I can’t do that without risking Rosomon’s life and my own.
“What is she doing?” Rosomon asks.
She can’t see properly.
Nyxarious smashes into the side of the mountain and then tumbles down its rocky slope. I shut Rosomon out of our enhanced senses to spare her the graphic sights and sounds of Nyxarious’s crunching bones as her body descends.