Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

“Yes!” Will glanced around. “I mean, we would like to know that, right?”

Crow laughed. “Yes, Will, we would.”

“Not all dragons, as you know, can be commanded by the Crown, even when it is complete. Vriisureol, the grand Black who intervened at Vilwan, fought as Kirun’s ally. He was not subject to the Crown. Even in pieces, the Crown can exert influence, though most of those who answer its call now are young. What Chytrine cannot compel, they offer willingly.

“The elders with whom I am associated deemed it important to send their own ambassador to the world of mortals. They helped me learn and work the magick that allows me to transform—though one of them, in her wisdom, caused me to forget my true nature when I transformed that first time. When you found me I knew nothing more than my name. As I traveled with you, I learned what it was to be a man, though I do not think even she imagined I would fall in with such extraordinary company.”

Erlestoke nodded. “By becoming a man, you could understand our fears and desires, our hopes, strengths, and failings?”

“Yes, and to report back so we could decide on which side to enter the fight.”

The thief wrinkled his nose. “So you were testing us? Even though you knew you might end up eating us or something?”

“Not testing, watching. I watched you deal with the tests presented by others. And, had you any question, I had long since determined I would remain with you and fight at your side.” He smiled carefully. “And your action, with the Truestone, Will, proved to me the wisdom of that choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had been coming to realize my nature, day by day. I was able to draw on it to save you in Meredo, but the spell that had stripped me of my memory had the unfortunate consequence of blocking me from the means to complete the transformation. On the bridge, Gagothmar blasted me and the stone. His breath was insufficient to destroy me—no more than Resolute’s rebukes could destroy you, Will. I fell into stone that had been made molten by his breath. It encased me and I felt comfortable. There are points in our lives, such as when a dracomorph transforms into a drake, where being cocooned in stone is a part of the process. I would have remained there, taking comfort, save that your blood and the stone woke me to urgency.

“I remembered who I was, who you all were.” Dranae snorted. “I remembered the insolence of that pup in thinking he had killed me. Primarily, though, I felt your refusal to surrender. Your spirit, my blood, the stone, the prophecy—all of these things brought me back to myself and I was able to act.”

“I’m glad you did.” The thief flexed his left hand. “But how did I manage to kill the dracomorph?”

Dranae laughed. “Part of your nature, Will. You and I are linked. You stole some of my strength and my awareness, so you knew he was coming, and you were able to deal with him.”

“And this link, because of the blood, is why I was able to do what I did in Bokagul?”

“That I don’t know, Will—which is what brings me to my next task. I need to report back to Vael, to my superiors.” He sighed heavily. “The debate that ensues could decide the fate of the war and the wofld.”

Crow nodded. “I cannot think that the mortal world will have a better ambassador to dragondom than you, my friend.”

Will nodded in agreement and slapped Dranae on the shoulder with his injured left hand, then groaned. “Yeah, just don’t tell them that some of us can be stupid at times, too. We will miss you.”

“No, you won’t.” The cloak dropped away and muscles rippled as Dranae stood. “After all, you’re going with me.”

Alexia took another step forward, despite the reptilian scent wafting off the Black Dragon. “I will sacrifice no one.”

Vriisureol turned his head slightly, watching her closely. “And were I to ask for Alexia of Okrannel? Would Alexia be sacrificed?”

Alexia started to answer, but Kerrigan shoved himself from the wall. “No. It’s me you want. Fine, then take me. My death doesn’t matter if it’s going to save the city.”

The Black’s wings spread, then snapped forward. A blast of air buffeted the both of them as the dragon launched itself into the sky. Alexia clung to Kerrigan, steadying him. They both watched as Vriisureol gained altitude, then began to soar in playful circles over the city.

The princess took the mage by the shoulders and held him out at arm’s length. “What were you thinking?”

He looked up at her sheepishly, and not a little bit hurt. “I was thinking the deal is good enough to save Nawal. You were going to offer yourself, weren’t you?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

The question made her shiver. She grabbed the back of Kerrigan’s neck with her right hand. Drawing him close, she rested her forehead against his. “It’s different because it is my life. I’m the one responsible for Nawal’s defense, and you’ll be a lot more useful to the world, given all you can do, than I will be.”

“I might have been more useful.” Kerrigan pulled back and pointed toward the Aurolani camp. “But as strong as I am, I couldn’t have done that.”

The purple dragon had slunk on its belly back to the Aurolani lines. Its claws had ripped great furrows through the snow, bringing up black earth to mark its passage. It glanced back over its shoulder, lifting its chin from the snow and hissed, but fell silent as Vriisureol’s shadow passed over it again.

The Black came in low and snapped at the purple dragon’s hindquarters. The grounded beast yipped, then rolled onto its side, exposing its throat. Its quivering tail curled in to cover its belly.

The cloaked figure that had spoken to Procimre moved through the camp and flung off its red cloak. It towered over the fleeing gibberers. At least one caught itself on a hooked spike on the thing’s forearm. With a casual gesture the bleeding beast was tossed aside and the figure continued on its way without a break in stride.

It passed in front of the Aurolani lines, then called out in a keening tone that undulated into inaudibility.

The Black’s course shifted when the thing called out. Though she would not have thought it possible, Vriisureol turned in the air and swooped back with the ease of a Gyrkyme at play. The Black replied and they exchanged words, though Alexia could make no sense of the hisses and shrieks.

“Kerrigan, have you any idea what is being said?”

The mage shook his head. “Not a clue. I don’t know what that is, or why it speaks dragon. I hope it won’t negotiate a better bargain.”

Alexia shared that wish and wondered, just for a moment, if Vriisureol could read her thoughts. On the very next pass his tail came through and batted the figure into the air. With a powerful pump of his wings, Vriisureol surged forward, then rolled. His right wing curved and cupped the broken figure, then swatted it to the left. The left wing popped it back right, then the Black’s head came up and snapped the thing out of the air. Teeth flashed quickly and the figure vanished into that massive maw.

A great cry arose from the Aurolani camp. The purple dragon continued to slither forward, then stopped with its snout at what had been the command pavilion. All around it, gibberers and vylaens scrambled and ran. Hoargoun lumbered as best they could, using their long legs to retreat quickly toward the south. Kryalniri joined them—save for one leaving the command tent in the company of a slender woman dressed entirely in white.

Alexia shivered again. Even at that distance she knew her. That was the woman she had seen in her room in Caledo, when she first met Princess Dayley. Who is she ?