Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [182]
“Turn, Kahg!” she cried. “Come about, face the Vektia!”
She lifted the spiritbone in her hand. “Take me to the Vektia, Kahg. It’s the only way we can stop it.”
The dragon spit a gout of flame and began to turn the ship.
The men had no idea what was going on. The dragon appeared to be taking them into the teeth of their enemy, but they could do nothing except hang on and pray.
Aylaen clasped the spiritbone of the Vektia in one hand, then wrapped her arm around the dragon’s neck. Skylan stood braced with his feet planted firmly on the deck, holding on to her.
As she was turning, the Venjekar was hit amidships by a wave and rolled over. For a perilous moment, the ship floundered in the rushing water. The Dragon Kahg struggled to keep the ship righted and swung around to face the Vektia.
The Vektan dragon had no eyes. It could not see. It killed without seeing what it killed, without even knowing. And yet the blind head was searching for them. The Vektan dragon dove at Aylaen.
She let go of the dragon’s neck. The Dragon Kahg rode the waves, swooping up and down, his eyes red slits of fire against the blinding spray. He was sailing right into the wall of water. They had only moments left before the Vektia crashed down on top of them.
“Hold on to me, Skylan!” Aylaen cried.
Skylan braced himself against the hull. He had no idea what she meant to do. The wind tried to tear her out of his arms.
Aylaen began to sing the song Vindrash had taught her. Holding the spiritbone high in the air, she drew her sword. “The thread is twisted and spun . . . then I seize it. . . .”
The dragon’s sightless head focused on the spiritbone. The dragon opened its maw and darted down. The Venjekar lifted up.
“And he dies!” Aylaen raised the sword and swung the blade, shining with the light of thunderbolts, and sliced off the dragon’s head.
The dragon’s blind head glared at her and then burst into flame and vanished. The dragon’s headless body whirled and wrapped around and around, wings drawn inward, tail whipping, the feet swirling. The dragon spun like a massive waterspout and then the Vektan dragon lifted up into the heavens. Thunder rolled, lightning spiked, black clouds boiled, and it was gone.
The warriors stared about dazedly, not sure what had happened, knowing only that they were still alive. The wind died. The water calmed. The current was still flowing swiftly, sweeping the Venjekar downstream, but the ship was no longer in peril of being crushed. Aylaen realized Skylan was still holding her in his arms. She could see the blue of his eyes. With the passing of the storm, the sky was alight with the coming of dawn.
Aylean sheathed the sword blessed by Vindrash.
“We’re safe now,” she said. “You can let go.”
As he released her, she clasped his hand. “I’m sorry, Skylan. I hope you can forgive me.”
He drew her close and she drew him close, and for a moment they were the only two people on the ship.
And then Aylaen saw Treia.
Her sister had come up on deck. She stared at the brightening sky, the ragged-edged clouds that were like tattered wings, the lightning that flashed in the distance and then was gone. She listened to the last, low rumble of thunder.
“You are the darling of the gods now, Sister,” said Treia. “But they will turn on you as they turned on me. I was tricked into destroying everything I held dear. The same fate will happen to you.”
Aylaen let go of Skylan’s hand.
CHAPTER
22
* * *
BOOK THREE
The rising sun crawled out from under the storm clouds. Lurid light spread over the water. Skylan could see the bay and the sea beyond and the ogre ships, with their odd, triangular sails, thick as seabirds flocking to feed on a school of fish.
Ogres are terrified of dragons and, at the sight of this one, their godlords had decided to retreat. The ogre warriors who had survived the flood and fire in the city fled back to their ships, only to find the seas rising in the whipping wind, tearing off masts and shredding sails. Some of the ships sank, but most managed to survive the storm and they were now milling