Legacy of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [133]
“Hide your eyes!” Mosiah shouted to us, and pulled his hood over his head.
I did as he ordered, covered my eyes with my hands, but I could still see the white glare, so intense was the pale light beaming from the dragon’s eyes. The beast roared and reared its head and lifted its wings, but even as it attacked it took care not to dislodge us, who were seated on its back.
I heard dreadful, agonized screams. Star bursts flashed on the backs of my closed eyelids. The screams ended very suddenly.
The body beneath me began to move, to ripple into motion. The wings creaked, the glow of the white light faded. A rush of fresh air, cool and sweet smelling after the rank stench of the cavern, struck me in the face. I opened my eyes. Before me was a gigantic opening, like a huge chimney, large enough for the dragon to ascend.
We soared out and upward, the dragon’s wings beating slowly, carrying our weight without effort. We were nothing more than annoying insects, clinging to its hide.
I looked up into the night sky and I gasped.
It was filled with stars, more stars than I remembered having seen when we first arrived. And then the truth hit me a terrible blow, even as Mosiah put it into words.
“Those aren’t stars. Those are spaceships. Refugees. The last survivors from Earth. They have come here, the final hope. The Hch’nyv are behind them.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Merlyn looked upon it with eyes that had seen centuries pass, chose this place for his tomb, and now lies bound by the Last Enchantment in the glade he loved.
FORGING THE DARKSWORD
We flew over the darkened land of Thimhallan, while above us the sky was bright with the lights of thousands of starships, carrying millions of people. Hope sparkled above us. Hope and desperation. They must have sighted us on their sophisticated instruments. I wondered what they made of us—a gigantic black winged shape flying just above tree level. Probably nothing. Dismissed as animal life indigenous to the region.
A few knew the truth, perhaps; knew that the image showing up on their radar screens was a dragon. King Garald, Bishop Radisovik, and General Boris would have recognized the creature. But they could not know that we rode the Dragon of the Night. They had come here out of faith and because this was the last place to run to. They could not know where we were bound or upon what errand. For that matter, now that I thought of it, we knew little more. Did the Technomancers know it all? Was this a trap? Had Gwen and Queen Eliza been an illusion?
Mosiah thought so, apparently, but then he was one who would always term the glass half-empty. I did not know what to think. Gwendolyn had seemed so real, the love and affection for her daughter had been genuine, of that I am certain. And how could the Technomancers have conjured up an illusion of Eliza from an alternate time? When I thought of all this, my spirit soared with the dragon.
But they could have knowledge about that time, I realized, and my spirit plummeted to the ground. Kevon Smythe and the Dark Cultists had been present in that time as well. Perhaps everything we had experienced had been their doing.
I looked up into the sky again, the sky that was pocked with life. I thought of the millions up there, afraid, despairing, bewildered. All that remained of mankind, who had fled the only home he’d ever known and embarked into space, a cold and lonely place to die. The assault ships of the Hch’nyv would come soon, once their conquest of Earth was assured. I imagined the sky bright with fire. . . .
Shivering, I turned my gaze away. When I looked back, the sky was covered over with storm clouds and all was darkness. I felt a certain amount of relief, hidden away from the pleading, trusting, frantic