As the Swords drew their weapons and warily eyed the new arrivals, Kelos hurried to gather up the rest of the group. He was dismayed to see that, besides Illiun, few of the settlers had survived the azure dragon’s attack, though he was relieved to see Shalim, Rosalind and Hannah amongst their number. Bestion remained with the Swords, supporting their assault on the newly-arrived dragons with prayers and chanting. No matter, they would be close enough for the spell to take effect.
Kelos felt the surge of power as more of the azure dragon’s blood was spilled. But when he turned to look, Silus was nowhere to be seen and there were patches of scarlet amongst the pools of amber.
The azure dragon stumbled. It sported a deep gash across one eye and its right wing was hanging by just a few threads of sinew, although there was more than enough fight left in the beast to deal with the remaining humans cowering in its midst. Yet more dragons were darkening the sky, spiralling down to join their companions. Two of the Swords had fallen to claws and teeth, though Ignacio himself still stood and, fighting alongside another of his cadre, brought one of the great winged lizards down. But the magic that bled out of the creature was not sufficiently powerful for what Kelos intended. For that, only the azure dragon’s blood would suffice.
And as the great dragon closed in on them, the mage weighed up their options.
He could, he supposed, use the magic that already surrounded them to kill them all before the dragons had the chance. Instantaneous death by sorcery was surely preferable to the pain they would experience as they were torn apart by these creatures. The only other option was to teleport himself and his companions to elsewhere on this world, but the dragons would find them soon enough and their supplies were likely to run out well before then.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Zac shouted, though it was not a cry of distress but a call of greeting.
Kelos turned, but all he could see were dragons. Then he noticed one of them behaving peculiarly, shaking its head as though trying to free itself of some annoying insect. But what clung to the bony protrusions that grew from the top of the dragon’s skull was no insect.
Silus had dug his clawed feet into the neck of the dragon and was guiding it by yanking its head this way and that, batting its companions aside as it lurched across the sand.
The azure dragon, intent on the humans before it, didn’t see the beast lumbering towards it. As it opened its jaws to strike, Silus force his mount’s skull down and spurred it into a charge. Just before the two creatures struck, he launched himself at the blue-skinned dragon, slamming into its flank and digging in with his claws. He clung to the beast, limpet-like, as it bucked and spun; no matter what it did, it could not dislodge him. When the dragon finally began to tire, its great chest heaving with every breath it took, its cries becoming more and more plaintive, Silus tore open its throat and spilled its rich golden blood across the sand. There was so much of it that it lapped up against Kelos’s heels, the heady stink of it astringent in his nostrils. The thrill of so much power was almost too much, and the mage had to damp down the sorcery he could feel flowing through him, lest the raw magic tear them all apart.
All around them, the dragons raised their voices in a song for their dying master. To them, this may have been the most beautiful of melodies, but to Kelos it sounded like a thousand enraged cats scrapping in a room full of broken harps. They now had only moments before they were torn apart by the enraged beasts, and Kelos tried to shut out their cries as he concentrated on weaving together the threads of sorcery.
There was a sudden stink of ozone and then lightning was striking the ground all around them. Kelos quickly threw up a shield against the rain of actinic fire. Looking up at Kerberos, he grinned.
“Nice try, you bastard. But guess what? We don’t need you anymore. Ladies and gentlemen, please ready yourselves; this may be a bit of a bumpy ride.”
The azure dragon breathed its last and Kelos took the creature’s escaping lifeforce and intermingled it with the power rising from its cooling blood. Then, sensing each and every one of his companions around him, holding their faces in his mind, he began to reverse the spell that had brought them to this godforsaken world.
There was a quiet that put Kelos in mind of a small country church on a weekday afternoon. It was strangely calming, although when he looked around him, the scene was utter chaos. Hearing nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat, he smiled. This was true power, true sorcery; in comparison, everything he had done before had been nothing more than tricks to please the simple-minded. On his return to Twilight he would be lauded as the highest mage on the peninsula. None would be able to equal his power. He could feel the very fabric of existence in his grasp. The ground was crumbling beneath them; the sky was falling with a sigh; stars tumbled and sang and Kelos saw, just for a moment, exactly how everything was put together.
And it was only a simple matter, then, of opening a door and ushering his companions through.
PART THREE
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
He welcomed the shock of the cold water, letting the sea into himself as he sank into its depths. He called to his brethren, but though they had seemed to surround him just moments before, now there was no sign of them. He looked down at himself and saw that his flesh was changing: its dark hue growing pale, the claws with which he had so joyously shredded the flesh of his enemies receding. He felt diminished, empty. He was the only one of his kind. He was alone. He was Silus.
On remembering his name, everything else fell away like the wisps of a dying nightmare. The last thing Silus could remember was the harsh brightness of the desert and the dragon looming over him, amber blood gushing from a tear in its throat. Now he found himself drifting, looking down into the depths of the ocean. From somewhere nearby came a slow repetitive thud, like the beating of a vast heart.
A flash lit up the water twenty yards to his right. A shockwave buffeted him. Tendrils of blood snaked from his nose, drifting around his face as he blinked away the blotches crowding his vision. When the murk cleared, Silus saw a rain of debris falling slowly to the seabed far below. Turning amongst the shattered spars, shredded cloth and scattered weapons were many bodies, and dismembered parts. Men clawed at their throats as they were sucked down into the darkness, their last breaths escaping them in streams of silver bubbles. They fell through water inky with gore. Shoals of quicksilver fish darted through the blood and viscera, feasting on the offal, some even brave enough to take bites out of men not yet dead.
Silus moved to help, but before he could reach any of the drowning men there was another flash, closer than the first, the explosion stunning him for a moment so that he could do nothing but watch as a sinking ship, trailing bodies in its wake, tumbled towards him.
Sensation returned to his limbs and he darted out of the way of the tumbling vessel, only to become caught up in its wake, dragged down with the lithe, pale bodies that spilled from the dying ship. Just before the darkness became absolute, Silus pushed himself away, striking for a surface painted scarlet, ochre and green by the fires that raged above.
As he emerged, Silus was assaulted by the sounds of battle. Not that he could see the conflict, for a dense fog hung over everything, heavy with the stink of gunpowder. Vast shadows moved within the pall, occasionally emitting gouts of fire, illuminating the water and showing Silus the broken bodies that floated there.