Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [101]
“That’s not what my words meant, and I think you know it. I am going to see you through to the end of this thing if it kills me. If you can’t stand some sense talked into—”
“Shh,” said Ajani.
“You don’t shush me!”
“Quiet!” hissed Ajani. “Do you hear something? Do you hear wings?”
“Of course. We’ve heard those black-feathered birdmen for days,” muttered Kresh.
“No, he’s right,” whispered one of the warriors. “I hear it too. It sounds like—”
“A dragon’s wings,” said Ajani.
BANT
The soldier on lookout duty at a Bant gatehouse put down her spyglass in order to report.
“Sir, it’s an aven. He’s one of ours,” she said.
“And he is on foot?” said the gate-captain incredulously.
“Yes,” said the lookout. “He’s in bad shape.”
“It could be a trap. But I want you to find out, and quickly.”
“Yes, sir!”
The aven had collapsed by the time the guard tower opened its front gate. Two soldiers and a cleric rushed out to the fallen bird-man.
“This is no trap,” said one of the soldiers. “This is Kaeda. He was part of the mission of Knight-General Rafiq.”
The cleric immediately began chanting. The aven’s wounds closed, but the wing remained destroyed. The aven stopped breathing.
“I’m sorry,” said the cleric after a moment. “He’s gone.”
“Poor devoted scout,” said one of the soldiers. “Look at that wing. What happened to him?” “He’s got something with him.”
“It’s a scroll.”
“What’s it say?”
“Just this: ‘DEMONS AT GILTSPIRE. FOUR DAYS.’ ”
“Let’s tell the gate-captain.”
GRIXIS
A dragon flew silhouetted against the lightning-torn sky of Grixis, as dark as shadow. They had seen no other dragons in Grixis at all, and Ajani wondered whether it could be the master of Rakka and of Marisi, the very dragon he sought. Kresh and the other Jund warriors found cover under the bones of some long-dead beast, having met several dragons in their day.
As the dragon flew overhead, Ajani realized it didn’t have the light-distorting black scales of the dragonscale bowl. It was red-scaled, with a characteristic woven pattern to the scales on its stomach. This wasn’t the dragon that had caused Jazal’s death. In fact, the dragon looked strangely familiar.
“Karrthus,” said one of the warriors in awe.
“He’s a mighty hellkite from our world,” said another. “What’s he doing here?”
It was the same dragon Ajani had seen on Jund right after Jazal’s death, during his first planeswalk. That was the day he had met Sarkhan.
There were more flyers. Trailing behind the huge hellkite were several other, smaller dragons. Their wings were punched through with holes, and their scales were in tatters. One of them had a serious wound to its belly, and another had lost a leg. The flight of dragons had been in a fight, and a brutal one.
“Karrthus is being ridden,” said a warrior.
They all looked.
“It’s Sarkhan,” muttered Kresh, bile dripping from his words.
Ajani could see Sarkhan himself riding astride the biggest dragon, the hellkite Karrthus.
“That’s not the dragon I seek,” said Ajani.
“But that’s the man we seek,” said Kresh.
The dragons sailed overhead, heading to a glow on the horizon. As he looked, Ajani saw a thin line of distortion in the air above their heads, leading in the same direction as Sarkhan and the dragons. It was a stream of raw mana, coursing through the air to the horizon.
“What should we do?” asked one of the warriors.
“Uh, who are they?” asked another.
A long, strong note blasted on what sounded like a brass instrument.
“That sounded like an elvish clarion,” said Ajani.
On the opposite horizon, the tips of elvish banners rose into view. The marching feet of thousands of individuals resonated through the dead landscape of Grixis.
Ajani ran out from their hiding place to meet up with the army.
“Cat-man, where are you going?” shouted Kresh.
“I know these people!” Ajani called back. “Elves, humans, gargantuans, and nacatl,” he said to himself. “These are the armies of Naya!”
“So where are they headed?”
They’re headed to the center of all our planes, Ajani thought.
THE MAELSTROM