City of the Lost

5 Flight to Thunder’s Realm

Linsha sat lost in delight as the dragon soared on amber colored wings. All her senses strained, she sought to catch every sensation of that glorious flight. The feel of the cold wind on her skin, the sharp smell of dragon mingled with the dry, slightly spiced scents of the desert, the sound of Iyesta’s wings beating on the powerful wind and the creak of her wing bones; the vast colors of reds and browns and pale greens passing by below and the cerulean blue arching overhead.

It was some time before Linsha realized she was hearing another small sound, a faint humming noise that sounded like a cross between a chortle and a buzz. She tilted her head to look down at Varia. The owl was pressed close to the shelter of her body where the wind would not tear her away, and the faint noise emanated from her throat. Linsha realized the small bird was purring in delight. How many birds flew this fast in their lifetimes?

She glanced down to the land far below and saw they had left all pretense of grasslands behind and were over the barren lands of the Plains of Dust. Until the arrival of the great Overlords, Sable and Beryl, the entire expanse rolling lands of the Plains were a tundra-like, desert waste land, bitterly cold in the winter and warm only during the short mild summers. However, when the Overlords arrived and began using their vast powers to change the land and its climates to their will, climates were affected in other areas as well. The harsh conditions of the Plains of Dust were tempered by the warmer winds off the hot Bay of Balifor, the spread of Sable’s vast swamp to the east, and forestation of Beryl’s realm to the west. The edges of the plains turned to savannahs and grasslands, particularly in Iyesta’s realm east of the Torath River. The center of the plains, though, remained barren, rocky and arid.

The heart of the Plains lay below the flying dragons like a vast rumpled reddish carpet worn by the tides of endless weather and shaped by the ceaseless wind. Linsha looked down, wondering how any dragon could tolerate the bleak, lifeless expanse of that desert. Yet one dragon did. Thunder kept a jealous vigil over his empty realm and discouraged all but the brave and foolhardy from wandering into his territory. The few daring merchants or barbarians who could survive the crossing of the blue’s domain usually found greater rewards in Iyesta’s realm. The foolhardy who wandered into the desert never wandered out.

Linsha asked a question she should have thought of sooner. “Iyesta,” she called loudly, “why are you going to see Thunder? Do you think he had anything to do with the disappearance of the three young ones?”

The dragon took so long to answer, Linsha wondered if she hadn’t heard the question over the rush of the wind. She considered repeating her query when the brass tipped her head around and said, “I sent Dart on a reconnaissance flight over Thunder’s territory to look for something. I’ve heard rumors…”

Linsha felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. “Rumors of what?”

“Just hints. Bits and pieces of news. Rumors of something that may be only Thunder’s wishful thinking.”

“What?”

“I have heard that Thunder has a new general. That he is raising an army. That he plans to expand his realm.”

“He is always planning to expand his realm. But he lives in mortal terror of you and Beryl and Malys. He is too frightened to make a move so aggressive.”

“So I believe. But I wanted to check. A traveler told me of seeing men and ogres gathering near Thunder’s lair. I fear he may be trying to build an army, so I sent Dart to look. He should have been back last night.”

The worry was so palpable in the dragon’s voice that Linsha felt it like a blow to her heart. The chill in her thoughts turned to ice.

“Do you think Thunder may have captured Dart and the others and holds them in the hope of trapping you?”

“Of course. That is why Chayne and Ringg are with me. Thunder would not dare take on the three of us. No, I do not wish a fight with Thunder this day. I only want to talk and observe.”

Considering that she was the only human in the group, Linsha was relieved to hear that.

“Why did you send a summons for me last night? Did you plan then to go to see Thunder?”

“I did not decide until this morning,” Iyesta called back. “No, I have received news from Sanction that I thought you’d like to hear.”

Linsha leaned forward, her eyes squinting into the wind. “Crucible?”

“He sent a message. He sends his regrets. He cannot leave Sanction at this time because the Solamnics have a plan they’re about to try. He did not say what this plan is, but he wants to observe the results.”

“Oh.” Linsha tried to quell a pang of unexpected disappointment. She knew it was chancy to invite the big bronze to Mirage for the Midyear Festival, but she had not seen him in some time and Iyesta had given her enthusiastic support.

“He also said,” the brass added, “that Lord Bight sends his greetings to you.”

There it was again, that odd note in Iyesta’s voice that sounded like she was trying not to laugh. It crept into her tone every time she mentioned Lord Bight. Did she find Hogan Bight that humorous?

Varia chuckled, too.

“All right,” said Linsha. “What is it? What do you find so funny? I like Lord Bight, arrogance and all.”

Iyesta said soothingly, “So do I, Lady Knight. He is a man of many talents.”

The owl said nothing but clamped her beak shut and turned her eyes away from Linsha’s face.

“There!” Chayne trumpeted. “The blue’s lair is there!”

There were no clouds in the sky to obstruct their vision or to hide their arrival. They could clearly see the high, jagged ridge of hills that thrust up from the rolling landscape where Stenndunuus, or Thunder, made his lair. A wide, open flatland spread out from its base for nearly half a mile before falling away into eroded hills and dry gullies.

“What are those?” Linsha asked, staring down at clusters of indistinct figures she could see on the ground far below. The tiny figures seemed to be scrambling out of sight into caves and fissures in the ridge like a colony of ants suddenly disturbed. “I thought Thunder’s land was virtually depopulated.”

“It was,” Iyesta said, disapproval obvious in her tone.

Gold, silver, and brass spiraled down to the ridge. Iyesta often made visits to talk to Thunder and used her naturally gregarious and pushy nature to keep him on edge. During their talks—that is Iyesta talked endlessly while Thunder stamped and growled and hurled insults—she would spread rumors and drop hits of information guaranteed to lead him into useless fits of rage or panic. He was terrified of the larger dragonlords and bitterly envious of their power. Iyesta took ruthless advantage of his fear and played on his desires and weaknesses to insure he stayed on his side of the Torath River.

A roar of fury burst from the ridge and Thunder exploded out of his cave. Winging furiously, he rose up to meet his three visitors, his anger crackling around his muzzle in small bursts of electric fire. Dragonfear, an overwhelming sense of awe and terror, radiated from him like heat waves. Linsha felt the fear hit her harder than a physical blow. Her head reeled and her hands shook. She sank down over Iyesta’s neck ridges, almost frozen with terror.

For one horrified moment Linsha feared his anger would get the best of his common sense and he would use his lightning against them, but Iyesta, Chayne, and Ringg floated down past him and landed on the flattened space on the ridge top.

A muffled squawk came from under Linsha’s chest. She suddenly realized she was crushing Varia against the brass’s scales. She forced herself to sit upright and focus her attention on the owl and the brass dragon beneath her. With something else to concentrate on, she drove away most of the effects of the dragonfear. But her heart continued to pound like a drum.

Linsha threw a quick look over the edge of the ridge and saw that the flatland below was totally empty. Nothing moved on its flat surface. Not a figure of any sort could be seen.

“Iyesta, you worthless worm!” the blue bellowed as he swept over their heads. “Take your tarnished, dung-eating slugs and get out of here. This is my lair, my realm!”

His hideous horned face swiveled around to watch them while he landed on the only space left, directly in front of the patiently waiting brass.

Like a cat, Iyesta crouched on her belly, crossed her front legs, and made herself comfortable. Linsha and Varia stayed silently in their places, hoping to appear to be part of the dragon. “It is a pleasure to see you, too, Stenndunuus,” Iyesta said.

True to his name, Stenndunuus pounded the rocky ground with his taloned feet. He was nearly as big as Iyesta, but with a shorter tail and a stouter body, and his massive weight made the ground shudder. He spread his leathery blue wings in a posture of dominance and hissed. “I said be gone. I do not wish to waste my time bandying words with the likes of you.”

Iyesta laughed, a gentle pleasant sound that reminded Linsha of an adult chuckling at the antics of a recalcitrant child. “That is all right, Stenndunuus. We will not stay long. We were just flying by and thought we’d say hello. Perhaps you would like to hear the latest news.”

“No!” screeched Thunder, his dark eyes blazing with fury. “Go away! How many times do I have to say it?”

“Thunder acts as if he’s hiding something and just got caught,” Linsha whispered to Varia.

“He is,” the owl told her softly. “I can see him radiating guilt and worry like a heated ingot. He is up to something.”

“Do you happen to have something to eat?” asked the brass. “We are quite hungry from our journey.”

Thunder trembled all over. Smoke leaked from his nostrils.

“No? Oh, well.” Iyesta shuddered delicately “Goodness, it is chilly here today. Are you still having problems with those pesky whites to the south, Cryonisis and Frisindia? Their Icewall must be quite a nuisance to a heat-loving blue like you. You know, if you asked Sable, maybe she could help you…” She went on at length discussing the other dragonlords and their latest activities until Thunder was nearly pop-eyed with rage and impatience. He stamped about in the narrow space rambling threats and insults until he raised quite a dust cloud. Still Iyesta chatted on amiably as if she were carrying on a conversation with a dearest friend.

Linsha wondered how much longer Thunder would bluster before he erupted.

At last Iyesta decided she had toyed with him enough. She rose to her feet, stretching her legs and rustling her wings. With suddenness of a pouncing cat, she sprang forward, crowding him to the very edge of the ridgetop where the rock dropped away into a sheer cliff. Her large head pushed close to his, and her voice took on an edge of steel.

“Before we go, I want to ask you one question. Do not mislead me. A young brass in my favor wandered close to your realm by mistake. Two of his siblings came to look for him. They are missing. Do you know where they are?”

A snarl hissed from Thunder’s ugly snout. “No. And they’d better not come near me, or I will shred their scales from their worthless bodies.”

Iyesta glared down at him, her curved teeth inches from his neck. “If you have lied to me, I will kill you.”

In this close proximity to the big blue, Linsha could look at his reptilian face and see the malevolence burning behind his fear. His ears were flat against his head, and his lips were curled back in a silent snarl. His eyes flicked once toward her, acknowledged her presence, and added her to the collective hate that burned in his mind like acid. The dragonfear beat at her again until she wanted to shriek. She was a mere human, and she had seen him cowed before the big brass. Linsha knew he would have seared her with lightning if she had not been escorted by three dragons.

Iyesta sat back on her haunches and hid her anger behind a benign expression. “It has been good to see you again, Stenndunuus. We must have another little chat soon.”

She sprang forward, spread her wings, and soared into the sky. The gold and silver followed, and in less than a minute, all three were airborne. They did not immediately turn east but soared north at a leisurely pace until Thunder’s ridge was long out of sight. Only then did Iyesta veer toward her realm.

All at once she shook herself as if to rid her body of some evil dust or debris. “He’s lying!” she bellowed. “I could see it all over him. His aura was shot with streaks of bright yellow!”

The only answer she received was a long-drawn cry dwindling beneath her. She realized abruptly her shudder had been a mistake, for her rider, without straps or harness, had been shaken loose. “Chayne!” Iyesta shouted.

Swifter than an eagle, the smaller silver male spotted the falling Knight and dove after her. The woman was curled in a ball and falling fast, yet he snagged her jacket with his forefoot and carried her up to place her gently back on Iyesta’s broad shoulders.

Only when her feet touched the brass’s body and Linsha was sure of her seat again did she uncurl her arms from around the owl. The woman and owl looked at one another with huge eyes.

“Thank you,” Varia hooted gratefully.

Linsha smoothed a few ruffled feathers back in place. Staying curled around the owl—and not shrieking in terror—had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. She feared if she had released the bird at that speed, the force of the wind could have snapped Varia’s wings. Besides, keeping her body curved protectively around the owl and her eyes screwed shut had helped keep her mind off the fact that they were plunging to the ground. Perhaps this flight hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

Iyesta curled her head around, her face contrite. “I am very sorry. I did not mean to do that.”

Linsha took several deep breaths and managed a shaky smile. “I know. My thanks to Chayne.” She breathed another lungful of cold air and tried to still her pounding heart. “So tell me again why you wanted to bring me? What did you hope to accomplish?”

In spite of her effort to be calm and reasonable, the words came out sounding peevish.

“I know now Stenndunuus is gathering an army of sorts. I know he knows something about Dart, and I think he has done something to the young brasses. Yet I can prove nothing. If I move against him, I could upset Sable or Beryl—or worse, Malys.” She shook her head, this time being very careful not to unseat her wind-tousled rider. “Now you also know. You saw the soldiers on the ground. You can warn your Knights and, if you will when we return to the Missing City, tell the Legion.”

“Sir Remmik will not cooperate.” It was a statement of fact.

Iyesta knew the Solamnic officer and did not argue. “Sir Morrec will. Bring him to me when he returns. I will hold a council. My militia must go on alert. We must plan how to deal with this new problem.”

“What about Dart and his brothers?”

Iyesta turned her head to the front, but the wind blew her words back to Linsha. “We will keep looking, but I fear they are dead.”

Thunder watched the bright shapes in the sky until they dwindled to the north and disappeared, then he vented his rage on the ridgetop. He stamped and pounded and tore great chunks of earth and rock from the ground. His lightning breath seared across the ridge in blast after blast of white-hot fire. Clouds of dust and steam gathered around him until anyone looking up at his lair from below would have thought a thunderstorm had suddenly blown in.

When at last he calmed down and the last echoes of his thundering roars rolled across the desert and the lightning ceased to scorch the ground, a cautious head poked out of entrance to Thunder’s cave.

“Your lordship,” a wary voice called.

Panting, Thunder turned around and sprawled on the torn ground, facing the east. “You may come out,” he growled. “I won’t sear you.”

A man-like figure, tall, dark-haired, and well-muscled walked from the cave and bowed low before the dragon. Blue tattoos covered his bare upper body, and his ears were pointed like an elf s. “My lord, what do you wish to do now? I am certain the metal dragons saw us.”

“Of course they did. Those blasted wyrms can see a steel on the ground from five hundred feet up. Your sentinels failed in their duty, Gathnor.”

“I will have them punished, my lord.”

“You will have them used for target practice. I thought your people were better trained than that.”

The tall officer’s face reddened in anger. The metallic dragons had flown swiftly and with the morning sun behind them. No one but another dragon could have seen them sooner. But he wisely held his tongue.

Thunder glared eastward. “Send word to the general. Tell him to prepare his troops. Iyesta is too well informed. We will have to move quickly.”

“Yes, lord. It shall be as you say.”

Yes, Thunder thought, it shall be as I say. His power was growing—in ways Iyesta could not imagine. Soon, he would be free to move against her. Her minions would be slaughtered. She would die in hideous pain and despair, and then he would claim her fertile river valleys, her grasslands rich with fat cattle, her villages, and her city. Everything of hers would be his, and he would grow fat on the bodies of the dead. Foremost among those to die, he decided, would be the Solamnic Knights. They were a blight on the world. Especially that woman on Iyesta’s back, wearing the blue and silver uniform of the Knighthood. That woman had seen him retreat before the brass; she had recognized his fear. With those short reddish curls and the lean build, she would not be hard to spot again. He would find her and destroy her in some fitting manner.

Meanwhile, there was much to do. The bodies of those young brasses had to be disposed of, his army had to be equipped and prepared to march, his own preparations had to continue. He sprang to his feet and soared off the cliff, his blue scales gleaming azure in the sun. Not much longer now. If all went well, not even Malys would care to dispute his ascendency over the Plains.