Draka Chapter 318: Scale (Patreon)

Mother, for all her wisdom, was still a dragon. She had a dragon’s near infinite reserves of pride and fury. Behold Her had insulted her by attacking me, despite me being under Mother’s protection, and had then aggravated that by evading Mother’s attempts to kill her. And so, when Mother spotted Behold Her flying north along the mountains, she set after her with single-minded determination.

As shocked and confused as I was at that moment, if she’d only told us what she saw we might have asked her to wait. Behold Her had shown herself to be cunning enough that the fact that she flew along the eastern edge of the mountains rather than among them, making herself clearly visible when she could have remained at least somewhat concealed, should have been a cause for suspicion. But Mother didn’t tell us what she saw. All she told us was a growled “Go to ground!” and then she was off, flying at a speed we couldn’t hope to match.

As imperious as the command had been, Instinct didn’t follow it. She did her best to keep up, which was entirely futile, calling for Mother to slow down and to explain what was going on all the way. She got increasingly upset as Mother did neither, and as I tried to explain that at the speeds we were going, there was no way that Mother would hear us no matter how loud Instinct called for her.

Maybe we should do as she said, I suggested as Mother’s silhouette shrank into the distance, and as it dawned on me that there was only one thing that could have reasonably provoked such a reaction from her. If Behold Her is around, we’re in danger right now.

“But she left us!” Instinct wailed.

But she can easily find us when she's done with whatever she’s doing, Conscience countered. Which, I agree, is probably chasing Behold Her.

“Then it is foolish to stay behind,” Instinct declared, not slowing down at all. “The red one can sense when we are vulnerable. We should stay near Mother!”

It was probably unfair of me to be surprised by how reasonable that argument was. Sure, we didn’t know for sure that Behold Her could somehow sense when we were weak, or even home in on us in any way. That was just Mother’s theory. But it fit well enough with what we’d seen, and if it was true, combined with Mother’s admission that Behold Her was faster than her and could likely lead her around, then we may be in real danger.

Nah, yeah. Fair point, Conscience said, and so we were all in agreement. Neither she nor I objected any further to Instinct flying in the direction Mother was rapidly vanishing.

Then Conscience had another thought. You don’t think she’s headed for Lady’s Rest, do you? she asked. The question was accompanied by the feeling that she desperately hoped that it wasn’t so, and while I didn’t quite panic at the idea, it wasn’t far off.

Instinct flew as fast as she could, but it was nowhere fast enough. Mother must have been twice as fast as us when she really pushed it, and Behold Her was faster still when she had to be. Mother was only a tiny speck on the horizon when she started turning toward the sea, and we would never have known if not for Instinct keeping her eyes fixed on her at all times.

The reason for her change in direction came to us all at about the same time. There was no doubt in our minds by then that Mother was chasing Behold Her, and it seemed exceedingly unlikely that she would have given up after only a few minutes. That left only one real possibility, one that was all but confirmed as a bright red speck came into focus, far ahead of Mother yet at almost the same distance to us.

Behold Her is turning around, I said with mounting horror. She’s coming!

We need to go to ground and Shift! Conscience insisted. Embers can’t do anything if she has to constantly worry about us, and she’s going to know that we’re still up here in a moment if she doesn’t already.

Instinct’s reaction, though, was far less rational. “Let her come!” she roared into our shared mind. Then she turned toward Behold Her, and maintained her breakneck speed.

What are you doing? I asked frantically, poking and prodding at her control. But she held tight, refusing to back down as she drove hard toward the monster that had hurt us so terribly, and caused so much pain and misery besides. Conscience is right. We need to land!

“No!” Instinct snarled, vehemently enough that she matched it with a wordless growl into the wind. “I am sick of running and hiding! She cannot hurt us, but we can hurt her. And I will!”

This is mad. Conscience, help! I pleaded. Together I knew that we could take control away from Instinct, and then I might be able to get us down before it was too late. But to my horror, Conscience did nothing. Conscience! I said again. We have to take over!

No, she said. Think about it! You think she’ll just let it happen? She’ll fight us, and then what? What if we end up a flailing mess in the air, easy pickings for that monster? Scaly, do you have a plan?

“She cannot fly directly at us and use her breath,” Instinct hissed. “She must pass by us. Perhaps even slow. And then, I will have her.”

I saw the shape of what she intended. It was mad. Utterly mad. But Conscience was right. If I’d been able to take over immediately we might have had time to get into the trees, but at our combined speeds we would meet Behold Her in seconds. And as hard as Conscience was fighting me, there was a very real chance that we’d be, as my more human headmate had put it, a flailing mess. That would be suicide. And mad as Instinct’s idea was, it might at least be survivable.

Don’t make me regret saving you, I hissed, withdrawing to watch the disaster unfold.

They say time slows down when you know that something terrible is about to happen. It’s true. Right before we met Behold Her, every moment stretched out. Everything became clearer and more detailed. The hate and rage in her eyes as she came close enough to make out any features at all, Instinct’s battlecry, the feeling of our muscles flexing, claws sliding out of their sheaths as the wind rushed past our wings fast enough to make the membranes slightly numb from the vibration; they all came into sharp focus. As did the crimson cloud that billowed out of Behold Her’s open maw, right in our path, as she adjusted her trajectory so that she would just barely miss us.

Then it was as though we’d been dunked into a pool full of the blackest ink, all light and smell and sensation vanishing and sounds becoming muted and distant, as Instinct Shifted for just long enough to Shift back.

I’d named her beautifully. I could never consciously have done what she did instinctively. When we solidified, still midair, we were beside Behold Her, just under her right wing. The powerful limb snapped down, not an intentional attack but simply a normal beat, and it was like slamming into a mountainside; at the same time, Instinct had Shifted back claws out and ready, and the three sets of adamantine claws in reach raked into her side, her own momentum helping to crack scale, part hide and rend the flesh beneath. And Instinct, spiteful bitch that she was, blindly unloaded every drop of venom we had right into her torn side.

We tumbled, dazed by the immense force of the blow that Behold Her had inadvertently dealt us. Above us, death on red wings shriek in rage and agony. I was dimly aware of her turning to pursue us down. I barely noticed Instinct bringing one hand to our mouth until I tasted blood, bitter and scalding. Everything went black again, and the pain dulled somewhat. For a second there was only the distant sound of Behold Her’s agony, and then a moment of utter, nauseating wrongness accompanied by flashes of light. I couldn’t make sense of it, but Conscience did.

She passed through us, she commented, her tone flatter than I could ever remember hearing it, as though she was numb with shock. She flew right through us.

“She tried to tear us apart,” Instinct crooned, voice strained by the aching pain yet full of malicious glee. “But she cannot touch us.”

Behold Her’s screams of impotent rage and pain receded, and another sound intruded on our bubble of near sensory isolation, a roar of such absolute fury that it shook me to my core.

Mother had arrived.

Instinct Shifted back, still tumbling, neck whipping around as she hunted for any sign of Behold Her. And there she was, receding into the distance, the fiery form of Sower of Embers, Reaper of Flames in hot pursuit. We were still quite high, two thousand feet perhaps, and despite the stiffness in our left wing after the blow we’d taken, Instinct managed to recover, stabilizing us and levelling out.

“Lady’s Rest?” she asked, sounding tired but terribly pleased with herself.

Yeah, I agreed. With Behold Her wounded and seemingly fleeing, the village seemed like our best bet.

Did she make it there, do you think? Conscience asked anxiously.

“Maybe,” Instinct replied. “They were far north when they turned.”

Instinct finally relinquished control. We were going to have to talk about what had just happened, but now was not the time. My mountain was only ever about a twenty minute flight from Karakan at a comfortable pace, and we’d flown quite a bit faster than what was comfortable up until the last stretch. It didn’t take long before we were there.

We were also going to talk about the large, broken scale that I had under my tongue, and the implications of that. Pissed as I was at my headmate, I couldn’t deny that she’d done some damn fine work. I just wished that she’d been a bit less dictatorial in how she’d gone about it.

When we passed over Lady’s Rest the cabins and gardens still stood; being built entirely of wood, the village would have been largely gone had Behold Her attacked. But on the nearby hillside there was a long scar running through the sparse vegetation, and the village itself was silent and empty.

I couldn’t just pass by. I landed in my regular spot, between the trees and the wide clearing between the old firepit at the center of the village, which had been there since this was just a campsite. “Hello?” I called out, approaching the fire pit. “Is anyone here?”

There was no immediate reply, so I looked around, sniffing the air. There was no scent of death, but there shouldn’t be. My best guess was that they’d somehow seen Behold Her coming and had fled. “It’s all clear now. You can come back,” I called into the forest, hoping that they’d hear, and then I took to the air again. Visibility along the mountains was fine, but the trees, while sparse, were still dense enough that someone flying low could remain undetected until they were right on top of you. I couldn’t know for sure that Behold Her was fleeing for her life, and I was not going to let her circle back around and get a free shot at me, especially not in the middle of the village.

My whole side throbbed with every beat of my wings as I flew lazy circles high above the village, but it was bearable. It had even gotten slightly better already, which I figured I had either blood flow or just getting used to it to thank for. I shifted my focus frequently between the village below and the southern horizon in every direction, looking for any sign of a flash of red or brass, but it was the humans who showed first and I went down to land, just to make sure that all was well.

“Sorrows take me, but it’s good to see you!” Tam called out even before my feet touched the ground. He was walking on his own, though Val hovered nearby in case he should need support.

“Are you alright?” I asked. “All of you, I mean.”

“I should be asking you the same,” he said, with genuine worry.

I knew that I was favoring the side Behold Her had hit with her wing, but I waved it off. “I’ll be fine. Some rest and some attention from Mak, and I’ll be right as. But what about here? Is anyone hurt?”

He shook his head. “Not as far as I know, Mercies be praised. But I don’t mind telling you, that was one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever seen. Not as bad as when Val got hurt, but not far off. That big bloody villainess that Herald told us about came roaring by, your mother right behind her! Spewed some kind of red mist but she must have been too high or rushed or something, because the wind drove it against the hillside and… well, you can see. We all took to the forest in case she’s planning to come back. Is she gone?”

“Hope so, yeah,” I replied. “Last I saw of her Mother was driving her south. With any luck she’ll catch her and burn her out of the sky, but I’m not going to waste time hoping for that. She’s gotten away before. Still, we got her pretty good.”

I fished the scale out from under my tongue and got my first good look at it. It was larger than any of my own, a bit over two inches wide and maybe four long, and looked like it had been carved from genuine ruby. Hell, for all I knew, it was.

“A fortunate prize,” Val commented as I showed it to the two of them, and to the villagers who were now gathering. “With Avjilan’s abilities…”

“Yeah,” I said, doing my best to channel Instinct’s spiteful glee from before. “Fortunate indeed.”

As pleased as I was about the scale, I was also consumed by worry for the people of Lady’s Rest. Behold Her had indeed attempted to attack the village, and likely would have laid it to waste entirely if Mother hadn’t interrupted her. I couldn’t say if she’d known about it before today, but she definitely did now. I’d be shocked if she didn’t come back to destroy the village at the first opportunity, out of pure malignant spite.

The situation was simple. The villagers couldn’t stay. Mother and I couldn’t guard them, and Behold Her could come lay waste to the village at any time. They may have the forest and the tunnels nearby, where they may be able to shelter, but that wouldn’t do them any good if she came over the mountains and hit them before they even knew what was happening.

I had to send them to Karakan. Thankfully, they weren’t hard to convince.

“It’ll only be until we kill her,” I promised them, worried about how they might react to being told to leave their homes. “And you’ll be comfortable and well fed at the inn.”

“Aye, Great Lady,” Jekrie said solemnly. “We believe you. We can all see the scar on the hillside. We know we must go, and we all left our homes for the sake of our lives once before. It is not so terrible to leave once more, when we know that we flee to safety and comfort, and that we will be able to return one day.”

“It is as he says, Great Lady!” added Medalla, one of the women in the village. Her little boy Trem hid behind her, holding tight to her skirt as he peeked apprehensively around his mother’s legs. “Please, I do not mean to speak out of turn or to presume, but you seem—” She hesitated, clearly not sure if she should go on, but go on she did. “You seem upset to ask us to leave,” she declared, lowering her voice. “But it is as you say. We cannot stay. And if not for your patronage, where would we go? Would the city even open its gates for us, and if it did, could we hope for more than to huddle miserably and beg for scraps? No, Great Lady. I beg you to believe me when I say that while we do not go gladly, we do so with gratitude.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the other villagers present, and Jekrie spread his arms as though to say, “See? I told you.”

It took them some time to gather what they needed, and to store away anything they couldn’t take just inside the gate to the tunnels under my mountain. Their only animals were the mules that Tinir’s cousin Darvellan and his wife Elem had with them when they came north and found the village, so they packed light; even more so considering that Tam was still not entirely back to his own self, and the villagers insisted on letting him ride the smaller of the two animals.

While we waited for everyone to get ready, Mother arrived. She was in a hell of a mood, but shockingly enough none of her ire was directed at us. Sure, Instinct had ignored her command to hide, and had taken an insane risk going head-to-head with Behold Her the way she had. We’d even gotten hurt, though we were only bruised and battered, not bloodied. But apparently success justified anything. Mother had nothing but praise for the manoeuvre that had not only kept us alive, but had allowed us to wound a much stronger dragon than ourselves and claim one of her scales.

“But we must kill her soon,” Mother practically growled. “Again I burned her, and again she escaped. Now I grow impatient. Her continued existence vexes me to no end.”

“Do not worry, Mother,” I told her. “I have a plan for that. But for now I have to escort these humans back to the city. Can I rely on you to keep us safe, as you always do?”

I asked that last bit just pointedly enough to be an accusation, but still maintain some plausible deniability. I wasn’t going to come out and scold Mother for leaving us behind. She was the one who’d told me before that she worried that Behold Her might do exactly what she had, but that hadn’t stopped her taking off like a missile, with no concern except possibly catching the source of her frustration. And by the way Mother looked almost embarrassed, she knew that she’d messed up. I doubted it would be worth it to make her admit her mistake, but I wasn’t above playing on it to get her to do what I needed her to.

“Of course I will. What kind of mother would I be if I abandoned you now?” she replied, and soon we were off, me walking with the humans, her circling high above.

It took us well into the night to bring them to Karakan, and another long while to get them safely ensconced at Her Grace’s Favor, where Tam and Val received a heroes’ welcome. And then it was a three hour flight back to Malyon. The sun hadn’t quite begun to rise when we arrived, but I couldn’t imagine it was far off.

Not that I cared. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and all I wanted to do was sleep. But for all my fatigue, and for all the fear and the pain and the physical effort of the day, I counted it as a success, and I went to sleep with a smile on my draconic lips.

Tomorrow I was going to show everyone the scale, and then we were finally going to plot how to get rid of that Sorrows-begotten ruby dragon.