Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (41 page)

 
          
Tempest
dove under again, but Ula clung tenaciously to the spear. She wedged her toes
under the dragon’s scales and hung on as the monster gyrated through the deep.

 
          
When
the dragon broke surface, Ula yanked on the spear with one hand while clinging
to the dragon with the other. Again she stabbed the spear into the wound.
Again and again.
Black blood spouted from the dragon’s
shoulder, covering the Dargonesti in gore.

 
          
Tempest
howled with pain. She writhed and bucked, diving repeatedly into the heaving
ocean, only to leap into the air once more.

 
          
Ula
reeled back for one final deadly thrust.

 
          
The
dragon snapped her neck to one side and, suddenly, Ula lost her grip. The elf
soared into the sky then crashed to the storm-tossed ocean below.

* * * * *

 
          
Mik
and the bronze dragon angled up toward the clouds, gaining height for one
desperate
attack. Shimmer turned into the heart of the
storm.

 
          
Mik
lowered the ancient coral
lance,
the key to the
Temple
of the Sky glowed brightly at his neck.
“For lost friends!” he said.

 
          
Shimmer
nodded and hissed, “For the Dragon Isles!”

The Coral Lance

 
         
Lightning
flashed as Mik and Shimmer dived out of the rain toward Tempest’s exposed back.
The sea dragon cast her gaze across the surface of the sea, seeking the bodies
of her foes, or perhaps Mik himself.

 
          
In
the pulsating light of the storm, she spotted Shimmer’s shadow streaking across
the surging waves toward her. Tempest turned just as the sailor and the bronze
dragon closed in—but she couldn’t avoid the allies’ desperate charge.

 
          
Sparks
shot into the rainswept air as Mik drove
the coral lance deep into the sea dragon’s throat, just below her long neck.

 
          
Tempest
squealed in surprise and pain,
then
bellowed with
rage.

 
          
Mik
and the bronze dragon lunged forward again, driving the coral lance deeper into
the wound. Mik twisted the lance, trying to hit some vital area; the key
dangling at his neck glowed, adding its power to the magic of the lance.

           
The enraged sea dragon wheeled and
smashed her fin- like foretalon into Shimmer’s side. Her claws ripped through
the scarred and battered membrane of his wing. Shimmer roared in pain.
Scintillating magical energy blazed from his mouth and shook the air with the
sound of thunder.

 
          
The
electricity blasted through Tempest’s mane of Turbidus leeches and scarred and
burned her titanic scales. She toppled back into the water, nearly pulling the
lance from Mik’s hands.

 
          
Tempest’s
body smashed into the sea at the base of the silver stairs. Her stupendous
weight sent a huge wave surging across the ocean’s surface. Floundering off
shore,
Red Wake
tipped and almost
rolled over. Brine splashed high into the rain-clotted air, nearly reaching the
Temple
of the Sky. The sea dragon rolled across
the base of the volcano, thrashing like a titanic beached fish.

 
          
Tempest’s
black blood dripped from Kell’s lance, spattering Mik’s face and arms. Hanging
over his heart, the bejeweled key glowed brightly. He grabbed onto a bronze
spike in front of him as Shimanloreth wobbled in the air.

 
          
Shimmer
struggled to stay aloft. The wind whistled through the tears in his wing, and
his wounds filled the air with a fine spray of blood. Mik clung precariously to
the bronze dragon’s scaly back. Bracing themselves for a final attack, they
spiraled down toward their enemy on the mountainside below.

 
          
* * * * *

 
          
Ula
thrust her head above water. Every bone in her body ached, and lights danced
before her eyes. The entire world seemed distant and unreal—some nightmare
reality unconnected to her.

 
          
Lighting
crashed into the sea, and the waves heaved up like mountains.
Red Wake
, not so terribly far away,
listed horribly, as though it might sink at any moment.

           
From the sky above, Shimmer
fluttered down toward Tempest, who writhed upon the steep slopes of the Isle of
Fire. The bronze dragon looked worse than Ula had ever seen him, but somehow he
persevered. And was that Mik on Shimmer’s back?

 
          
Yes,
it was! The sailor held Kell’s coral lance in his hands, poised to strike
Tempest’s black heart.

 
          
As
Ula’s friends drew near the sea dragon, though, Tempest turned toward them,
steam leaking from between her hideous teeth.

 
          
“Look
out!” Ula cried, though the crashing of the waves and the din of the storm
smothered her warning.

 
          
*****

 
          
Tempest
threw her jaws wide and belched a cloud of boiling steam at the bronze dragon
and his rider.

 
          
Shimmer
thrust the remnants of his tattered wings wide, trying to shield Mik from
Tempest’s scalding blast. The bronze dragon’s eyes and scales blistered, and
the membranes covering his wings sizzled away, but his stratagem worked.

 
          
Mik
gasped for breath, and his skin scorched, but he held on. “Shimmer!” he cried,
but the bronze dragon could not hear him. Blindly, Shimanloreth fell toward the
Isle of Fire.

 
          
Tempest
snapped at them, but missed, as they passed her awful head.

 
          
Shimmer
crashed heavily into the plaza below the
Temple
of the Sky.

The Isle of Fire

 
          
The
bronze dragon’s weight shook the 1 courtyard and smashed the marble flagstones
into shards. The landing’s decorative columns toppled like ninepins, but the
silver stair persevered.

 
          
The
bone-jarring impact of the landing threw Mik from Shimmer’s back. The sailor
twisted in the air and hit hard in the rubble near the base of the final stair.
Thunder roared in Mik’s ears; he fought to keep from blacking out.

 
          
Shimmer,
slowly shrinking into a smaller, half-human
form,
lay
broken and bleeding amid the remnants of the plaza. He breathed in ragged,
shallow gasps, but otherwise did not move. Rain cascaded down around them,
pelting Mik’s scorched skin like a thousand tiny needles.

 
          
The
coral lance lay near the mariner’s right hand, and he picked it up. Groggily,
he got to his feet and peered toward the ocean below. What he saw froze his
heart.

 
          
Half-blinded
and maimed, but not nearly dead, the immense form of Tempest crawled up the
silver stair toward them. In her remaining yellow eye burned all the fires of
hatred within the evil dragon’s soul.

 
          
“Thank
you ... for bringing me . . . my key . . . little man!” she hissed, her voice
shaking the mountain.

 
          
She
belched
another gout
of boiling steam, but Mik ducked
back toward the upper stairway, and the angle of the plaza shielded him from
the blast.

 
          
He
turned and ran up the stairs toward the temple, his exhausted muscles burning
with every step.

 
          
Tempest
reached the shattered landing and glowered up at him. A long trail of her blood
covered the stairs below, and her heaving breath shook the broken flagstones.
With barely a sideways glance, she batted Shimmer’s body off the plaza. The
bronze knight sailed through the air, trailing streamers of blood, and crashed
into the sea at the mountain’s base.

 
          
Mik
reached the
Temple
of the Sky. The ancient key burned on his
chest, and the great diamond flared in its presence. The cornerstone of the
Veil shown
nearly as bright as the sun, chasing away the
storm’s dark shadows.

 
          
The
sailor cursed himself. He was no magician, as Karista had once been. He didn’t
know how to turn the power of the gem or the key against the monster pursuing
him. He had already used every trick he knew. Before him lurked the sea dragon,
at his back, the fiery maw of the volcano. All his friends were dead, and he had
no place left to turn.

 
          
The
coral lance throbbed within his grasp and Mik fought to maintain his grip. His
scorched, blood-stained hands looked ghostly pale—almost white in the blinding
light from the glittering diamond. The key hanging at his chest burned almost
as brightly. He could not bear to look at either of them.

 
          
A
deadly smile drew slowly over Mik Vardan’s battered and bloody face.

 
          
Roaring
her pain and rage, Tempest lumbered up the steps and into the temple. She cast
her undamaged baleful eye around the temple plaza, seeking her foe, but did not
see him.

 
          
The
great diamond burned at the center of the temple, bright as the sun. She could
not look at it and turned away. As she did, Mikal Vardan stepped from behind
the diamond and thrust the coral lance into her remaining eye.

 
          
Tempest
shrieked and thrashed her head, yanking the lance from Mik’s hand. The weapon
shot out of her punctured eye and soared through the air into the surf far
below. The weapon, though, had done its work.

 
          
Blinded,
Tempest surged toward Mik, smashing the temple’s columns as she came.

 
          
The
sailor grabbed the keystone diamond and dove out of her way—not quite fast
enough.

 
          
Tempest’s
body hit him hard, and he flew through the courtyard into a fallen column.
Agony like lightning shot up his back, and the huge diamond slipped from his
grasp.

 
          
The
sea dragon barreled on, unaware in her agony that she had already struck her
enemy. She thundered through the temple, howling in rage and pain. By the time
her webbed foretalons hit the rim of the volcano, she had too much momentum to
stop.

 
          
With
a startled shriek, Tempest fell over the edge of the crater and into the
volcano’s fiery heart. In an instant, the lava consumed her.

 
          
Dazed
and bleeding, Mik rose to his feet.

 
          
The
island shuddered with the dragon’s passing, and the volcano stirred to life.

 
          
Though
the
Temple
of the Sky lay in ruins, miraculously, the
rune-carved column at its center remained standing. Mik retrieved the great
diamond—glowing only dimly now—and placed it back on its pedestal.

 
          
He
took a long, deep breath, but it cleared his head only a little. The temple
floor trembled again, and the red glow from the crater beyond increased.

 
          
Mik
gazed down at the key hanging around his neck. Its bejeweled surface sparkled
seductively, and a picture formed in his mind—a monstrous, glittering diamond,
not nearly so precious now as the friends he had lost.

 
          
The
treasures in the pit surrounding the pedestal glowed bright red—the color of
blood. The diamonds and jewels whispered to him. In his mind’s eye, Mikal
Vardan saw himself surrounded by wealth, he saw the Veil fading into the mists
of time, and he saw the Dragon Isles fall.

 
          
“No,”
Mik said sofdy.

 
          
He
pulled the jeweled key from around his neck and cast it into the rising lava.

 
          
As
the key’s magic abated, the temple around him grew transparent, like a mirage
that disappears when approached. Mik felt the flagstones under his feet quiver.
He cursed himself for a fool and sprinted toward the stairs.

 
          
“Serves
me right for not understanding more about magic,” he said to no one in
particular.

 
          
Mik
leaped down the silver stairway, taking three or four steps at a time. As he
neared the plaza below, though, the stairs seemed less like stone and more like
clouds beneath his feet.

 
          
Knowing
he had little time left before the silver stair disappeared altogether, he
raced to the precipice and threw himself over the edge. He cleared the
volcano’s cliff-like face easily enough, but his mind was still groggy, and the
ocean below seemed to be rushing up to greet him awfully fast.

 
          
Mik
hit the surging waves like a sack of bricks; the ocean smashed the breath from
his weary body.

 
          
He
tumbled head over heels through the breakers and sank below the surface.
Instinctively, he reached for his enchanted fish necklace, only then
remembering it was gone.

 
          
The
brine crushed in around him. He clawed frantically, seeking air but finding
only more water. He couldn’t tell which way was up or down.

 
          
Mik
struggled, kicking as hard as he could. The world around him exploded into
white light,
then
receded into placid gray.

 
          
He
felt warm and comfortable. Why was he exerting himself?

 
          
How much simpler just to go to sleep.

 
          
Down,
down to the briny deep, where sharks hold court and sailors sleep.

 
          
Mikal
Vardan closed his eyes and sank serenely into the indigo darkness.