The head followed her, and fangs sliced into the back of her parka.
A screech erupted from that deadly maw, and his head jerked up. As Rysha leaped to her feet, crouching under the dragon’s belly, she glimpsed Kaika withdrawing her sword as the neck twisted, the jaws angling toward her. Her blade dripped blood.
She was agile enough to evade the snapping fangs, but the dragon spread his wings, knocking her back.
Rysha, encouraged by the sight of that blood, drove her blade upward.
The dragon must have sensed the attack coming, because he sprang into the air. But not before she sank her sword between scales and into three inches of flesh.
The dragon shrieked as he flew up toward the portal, flapping his wings to stay out of their reach.
Gunshots fired—Duck, Blazer, and Leftie trying to help. Rysha didn’t know if they could. Even with the creature’s defenses down, the scales might deflect bullets.
“The other one is coming,” Dreyak yelled, back in the tunnel once more.
Rysha was more worried about the one flying right above them.
“Fire coming,” Kaika yelled, waving for Duck and the others to get back.
The dragon’s maw yawned open, smoke filling the back of his throat, and Rysha shouted, adding her warning to Kaika’s. The attack wasn’t aimed toward them but toward the rest of their team, toward those who didn’t have chapaharii blades to protect them.
Duck, Blazer, and Leftie sprinted for the tunnel Blazer had identified earlier, one exiting the back of the chamber, but they wouldn’t make it in time. The dragon flew after them, fire curling past its fangs.
Though it would leave her vulnerable to attack, Rysha hurled her sword, point first, toward the dragon’s belly. Seeing it coming, the creature twisted in the air. The blade only skimmed his flank, but that was enough to divert his stream of fire, so he didn’t spray flames at the others.
It was not, however, enough to keep him from spraying flames at her. The dragon’s eyes lit up when her sword clattered to the floor, leaving her without protection.
Rysha raced toward it, but the dragon unleashed a gout of fire at the bare blade.
Cursing, she tried to stop, but she slipped on the ice and fell. She scrambled to the side on hands and knees as the flames shifted toward her. Ice melted, the air smoldered, and her spectacles fogged up. Damn it, being blind right now would not help.
Kaika yelled, “Over here, ugly!”
Maybe Kaika also threw her sword, because the call worked. The fire shifted away before it caught up to Rysha, and she was able to slide her way through melted ice toward the sword. Frigid water seeped through her clothes, but she ignored it. Relief surged through her veins when her fingers wrapped around the hilt again.
Her spectacles defogged enough for her to see not one but both dragons veering toward Kaika. Trying to corner her?
Both were injured, dripping blood onto the ice floor as they flew, but it didn’t slow them down. Kaika dropped something, then sprang to the side as the dragons converged, almost crashing into each other in their eagerness to chomp down on her.
She slashed wildly as she ran away. Or maybe it only seemed wild. Her sword bit into dragon flesh twice.
The creatures twisted to follow her, but an explosion ripped from the floor underneath them.
Rysha staggered as the ground shook.
Smoke obscured the dragons, half hiding them from sight. Had the bomb or grenade or whatever it had been hurt them?
Kaika didn’t wait to see, and neither did Rysha. They ran toward the smoke, their blades raised to cut into their enemies while they were—Rysha hoped—stunned.
Metal clashed near the entrance tunnel, and Rysha almost faltered. Dreyak swung his scimitar at a shaven-headed man in a Cofah uniform. Rysha grimaced, spotting the sorceress back there too.
“Dragons first,” she whispered, and leaped in to help Kaika.
17
Trip heard the clangs and shouts of the battle before he came close enough to see the light in the chamber ahead. Three figures crouched in the passage, firing rifles into the fray. Was that Leftie, Blazer, and Duck?
As Trip sprinted to join them, to help in whatever way he could, a gold dragon’s tail slammed into the floor right in front of the entrance. The three pilots sprang back, one slipping on the treacherous ice, and falling against the wall.
“Incoming,” Trip barked, wanting to warn them he was coming without wasting the time to say a lot.
He sensed all the enemies ahead, two dragons, as well as more than a dozen humans, including the sorceress Kiadarsa.
“Trip,” Leftie blurted, then skittered to the side, eyes widening at the two soulblades glowing in Trip’s hands.
Not taking the time to respond, Trip sprang past his teammates and into the chamber. At once, he sensed the dragons were injured, that the portal was above them, and also that other dragons, their auras severely muted, lined the back of the chamber. It took him a second to realize they weren’t a threat, not at the moment.
He spotted Kaika fighting a dragon on the other side of the chamber, leaping to try to reach it as it flew up and down, alternating swiping its talons at her, breathing fire, and evading her slashes.
Not far from Trip, Rysha drove her sword into another dragon, the gold whose tail he’d just seen. More injured than the other, this one fought from the ground, crouching on its haunches. Smoke and the scent of spent gunpowder filled the air.
“Antyonla masahrati akarli!” came a cry from the tunnel—Kiadarsa.
Trip did not recognize the words—they sounded like gobbledegook—but Rysha halted in the middle of a swing that would have driven the sword into the dragon’s neck. Her chapaharii blade pulsed, and her face twisted with a conflagration of emotions. Frustration? Anger? Loathing?
Before Trip knew what was happening, Rysha whirled toward him. Her eyes widened with surprise that quickly shifted to horror. She strode toward him, raising the glowing sword high, as if she intended to hew him down.
Abruptly, Trip realized what those words had been, one of the control phrases for the sword. What was the one that told it to stand down?
“Meyusha!” he blurted.
Kiadarsa cried out again, repeating her words. For some reason, they seemed to carry more power than his, and Rysha kept coming.
“What are you doing, Ravenwood?” Blazer yelled from the tunnel as Rysha stomped closer to Trip. “Stand down!”
Trip glanced across the chamber to see if Kaika was also heading his way, but she’d dropped her chapaharii blade. It lay on the floor while the dragon flew above it, jerking its head left and right on its long neck, snapping at the air behind it. No, it was snapping at the person on its back. Kaika.
Somehow, she’d climbed up the side of the dragon and on top of it. Crouched on her feet, she didn’t look like she wanted to stay. She kept glancing up at the glowing purple portal mounted to the ceiling.
Rysha charged Trip, and he yanked his attention back to her.
Not this again, Jaxi groaned into his mind.
Both soulblades came up in front of Trip, forming an X to block the downward swing of Rysha’s sword. Metal screeched, and sparks flew in the air between them. Even though he’d blocked, her amazing strength—strength augmented by the sword—sent painful jolts down his arms.
Rysha’s face contorted with intense concentration, as if she was trying to fight this, and her lips moved as she kept repeating the term for stand down. But with the sorceress back there yelling the other term, the sword wasn’t inclined to listen. It lashed at Trip again, feinting toward his face, then, when he parried, whipping back in low.
Trip was no sword-fighting expert, and he would have been injured—or killed—but the soulblades knew what to do, and they guided his movements. They defended, parrying again and again so rapidly he couldn’t track his own movements.
That instinct that liked to rear its head when Trip engaged in battle crept into his awareness. Blood surg
ed to his muscles, and he wanted to spring, to pummel this enemy that dared attack him. To destroy her, to prove his might as he emerged victorious from battle, a mighty predator.
“No,” he snarled, tamping down those urges, relieved the soulblades were in complete control of their movements.
Trip glimpsed Duck creeping out of the tunnel, maybe thinking of jumping in and grabbing Rysha from behind.
“Don’t,” Trip yelled, envisioning him being hurt—or worse—by accident. Hadn’t Blazer said that had happened before to one of their comrades? “Stay back. Or better yet—” A slash to his face interrupted him, and Trip had to leap back, his shoulder bumping against a barrier stretching across one of those alcoves. “Fight the others. Finish off the dragons.”
After uttering the order, Trip concentrated on parrying, on keeping Rysha as far away from him as possible.
Stop, Rysha, he cried into her mind, hoping she would hear him, that the words would somehow give her strength. You’re strong. You can control that sword. We need you to control it.
Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she gritted her teeth. Though she appeared to fight the blade with her mind, that didn’t keep it from using her body how it wished. The sword cut for his throat. Trip, his back already to the barrier, had to dive sideways. Rysha turned and chased after him, the blade held aloft.
He shoved up to his knees, bringing up the soulblades in an X again to parry.
We can do more, Jaxi said, but we know you don’t want to hurt her.
No, Trip thought, still on his knees as he parried another barrage of blows. Is there no way to knock that sword out of her hands?
We can try, Azarwrath said grimly, but it is giving her great power right now.
Rifles fired out in the chamber. Consumed with defending himself, Trip prayed nobody was aiming at him.
He tried to throw a blast of power at Rysha’s hand, hoping to force her to release the sword. But she didn’t even seem to notice.
He should have known better, that the sword would protect her from all magical attacks. Would it protect everything around her and on her body? An image of trying to drop her trousers or unlace her boots came to mind.
Sweat—or were those tears?—ran down her cheeks as Rysha slashed relentlessly, backing him into a corner.
We may have to strike to wound her, Azarwrath said. The dragons are recovering.
What had happened to Kaika? Trip spared a glance toward the dragons, but didn’t see her.
“Rysha, please,” Trip said. “Fight it. Tell it there are dragons over there. A far greater prize than a lowly mage.”
Her eyes remained horrified behind her spectacles, and her movements seemed to slow slightly as she tensed her muscles, fighting the blade’s influence.
Her spectacles. Trip’s gaze locked onto them. They weren’t a part of her. Was it possible he could strike against them? Or one of the soulblades could?
Jaxi, he thought, even as he tried to formulate an attack of his own. He glared at the spectacles and, as he blocked another powerful blow, he imagined them snapping apart and falling from her eyes.
The lenses shattered, and Rysha squawked, stumbling back and flinging a hand to her face. Trip paused, horrified. He hadn’t meant to break them in such a way that glass might pierce her eyes. The sword slipped from her loosened grip. Or maybe she let it slip free.
Trip, worried about the sorceress yelling those words again, kicked the sword across the slick floor. A jolt of pain ran up his leg at the contact, but he gritted his teeth and shook it off.
He spun back toward the battle, but didn’t run straight into it. Worried he’d handicapped Rysha, he stepped in front of her. He could fight with magic from the side. Or at least, the soulblades could.
As he had the thought, Jaxi and Azarwrath sent fireballs and lightning streaking toward a dragon in the air. Yisharnesh. The creature was flying back and forth, snapping at the portal. What the hells?
A shadow moved on top of the portal, just visible through the hole in the center, and Trip understood. Kaika. She crouched atop it. Setting her explosives?
The dragon had reestablished its barrier, and both fireball and lightning bounced off. The other dragon—the male that had been slumped against the wall, was rising to his feet. Blood pooled on the ice under him, but he looked like he wanted to get back into the fight.
Trip heard Rysha behind him, her breaths coming in labored pants after their battle. His own breaths were ragged, and sweat streamed down the sides of his face. Should he direct her to the sword? He wouldn’t be surprised if the magical weapon could use her to attack a dragon even if she couldn’t see well.
But he spotted Kiadarsa across the chamber, standing in the mouth of the tunnel. She was waving to men behind her and pointing at the chapaharii swords. Both Kaika’s and Rysha’s lay unclaimed on the floor now.
“Get this dragon off me, Trip,” Kaika yelled from her lofty perch. “I’m trying to do something up here.”
Azarwrath hurled more lightning. Trip focused on the dragon’s head, hoping he could recreate the mental attacks he’d effectively employed before and wishing to all the gods he’d had some training so he could do more than hope.
Actually, Jaxi said, why don’t you see if you can let our allies out? Let them battle the other dragons.
Allies? Trip asked, bewildered.
That one behind you is Bhrava Saruth.
Though still confused—he’d only glanced at the alcoves and been aware that disabled dragons were in them—he risked glancing away from the fight.
A gold dragon with its head bowed and eyes closed stood in the alcove.
You’re sure that’s an ally?
If you tell him you’ll worship him, he’ll be even more of one. Try pressing your hand to the wall there. See if it works like the entrance gate did.
I will continue to harry the enemy, Azarwrath announced as more lightning streaked out. This time, his target was the injured male rising to his feet. That dragon didn’t have his defenses up.
He shrieked, glaring at Azarwrath, and Trip sensed an attack before it came. He envisioned a barrier forming around him, and was relieved to feel Jaxi’s energy pouring in to strengthen his meager effort.
Even so, he stumbled as ferocious power slammed into the barrier.
Perhaps harrying dragons isn’t a good strategy, Jaxi said, even though she’d also been attacking the one after Kaika.
Hoping she was right about the imprisoned dragon, Trip lunged to the side so he could plant his palm against a square on the wall. White light flared about his hand. The barrier in front of the alcove disappeared, as did the magic he sensed inside of it, holding its prisoner in stasis.
The gold dragon’s eyes opened, a dark emerald green with reptilian slits.
Greetings, Bhrava Saruth, Jaxi announced with atypical cheer. I’ve brought you new potential worshippers, but they’re in trouble. We need—
Yisharnesh, came the dragon’s cry. He sprang from the alcove, almost knocking Trip and Rysha over as he flew straight up to the creature hurling fire at the portal—and at Kaika. We shall have that final dance now.
I forgot, Jaxi said as the new dragon lashed out, batting aside the female’s defenses and snapping at her with fang and talon. They’ve met before.
Kiadarsa and two soldiers trotted out, trying to sneak along the wall as the dragons warred overhead. They headed straight for Kaika’s chapaharii blade.
Trip, reacting on instinct, imagined halting them by creating a barrier between them and the weapon. But Azarwrath, with a growling sound in Trip’s mind, did more than that. He hurled red lightning, and it forked into three branches, each slamming into one of the people.
The men screamed, dropping to the ground and writhing as their clothing—and their skin—grew charred. The sorceress dropped to one knee and did her best to raise her defenses, but Azarwrath was unrelenting. More lightning poured into her barrier. Jaxi joined in, hurling a fireball so large it engulfed her
.
Trip would not have killed Kiadarsa, even after what she’d almost forced Rysha to do, but the soulblades were less forgiving. By the time he thought to call them off, her defenses had failed, and she lay on the ground next to the men, their bodies charred and quite dead.
• • • • •
Rysha’s hands shook as she groped for one of the ammo pouches on her utility belt, the one where she kept a spare set of spectacles. Her other lenses were so fractured, she might as well have been looking through blocks of ice. She heard the battle raging all around her, and felt the heat of fire against her face, but the world was an incomprehensible blur, and that terrified her.
Finally, she managed to pry the clasp open, dig out the case, and pull on the spectacles. She dropped her other ones, knowing they were beyond anyone’s ability to repair.
The chamber came into focus, part of it. Someone was standing in front of her, protecting her. Trip.
She gulped, surprised he would risk standing so close with his back to her after… Shit, she’d known all the command words, and she’d still lost control. How had that sorceress’s utterances proven more powerful than her own? And how had she known the words to start with?
“You gave them to her, idiot,” Rysha whispered, realization slamming into her like a dragon’s tail. She’d included the words in the box when she’d given it to Jylea.
But even so, shouldn’t the chapaharii blades prioritize the words of their wielders? Why had the sword turned on her like that?
“Something to research later,” she whispered, though her failure stung her deeply.
Would Trip hesitate to get close to her in the future if she kept a chapaharii sword around? Would she be expected to carry one after this mission was over?
Of course, maybe it didn’t matter to him. He’d figured out an easy way to defeat her.
Rysha grimaced, touching her spectacles. Would other enemies think of that in the future? Somehow, it seemed worse that Trip had done it. She understood why he’d done it, and surely it was better than having him cleave her arm off, but it felt like he’d known her weakness and used it against her. A betrayal.