29 Dragon Hearts

RIGHT IN THE DRINK was not what Threadfin had in mind. Twice in the space of over a week, he’d ended up in the Adalcis Ocean. It seemed Oracle had fought hard to retrieve her magic, enough to force him astray, just as he’d used it to get them where they were in the first place.

Poor old Podral had always complained about his experimenting. He’d once suggested he’d be better off doing it on an island in the middle of the ocean, where decent folk couldn’t get hurt.

He floundered in the water trying to find up. He broke the surface, but there was no sign of the other viral. ‘That went well,’ he remarked to no one in particular, spitting out a bit of seaweed. ‘Thanks for the assistance, Oracle.’ He spotted land, and knew he wasn’t too far off course. He began to thread water, aiming for shore.

In the distance, over the rising and falling swells, hundreds of ships came into view. One appeared much larger than the others, and was just approaching the coastline. Instinct told him Astra Dar was on that ship. She’s attacking the Gulley!

Why wasn’t she attacking the capital? Then again, who said she wasn’t? It was a war being fought on several fronts. Raddhon, the capital, and now the Gulley. With the Shathra Stone and the Sword, she could appear wherever she wished.

She’s going to carve a path right through the imperium from several directions, and crush it all. He thought of his last remaining sister, Sarscha, and knew there was nothing he could do for her. There was nothing he could do for Tezcat or any of the tens of thousands in that city, or any of the other cities, towns, and villages across Adalalcas. Nothing, unless he defeated Astra Dar, and the Darkness within her.

He swam harder. It was a simple thing for the undead, not having to breathe, and he floated quite well. Swallowing salt water and seaweed wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t harmful, and virals often ate seaweed, although his personal tastes ran a little bloodier these days.

The waves carried him closer and the strange ships loomed larger, as did the incredibly odd-looking creatures disembarking from them.

War had come to the imperium.

‡

The ships were drawn up on to the shore, their crews no longer aboard. Some of the huge sea-creatures appeared dead, and Threadfin realised it had been a one-way trip. Astra Dar was on Adalalcas to stay.

The sounds of battle reached his ears over the rolling surf, discordant and distant. He’d always been too late. Too late to save Aiyana, to save Podral. Now, he feared he might be too late to save the imperium too. Maybe the world.

No, not this time. I won’t let it happen again!

As he clambered up the stony beach, Threadfin heard a splashing sound behind him followed by a grunt. He turned to see Oracle in the water, not far from shore.

The undead woman got to her feet, the waves smashing against her legs, shaky hands rising to her temples. The eyes in her head had rolled up to reveal white, just as he’d seen with Volar and the other Nephilim.

‘Why?’ he shouted to be heard over the rolling surf.

‘It’s nothing personal,’ Oracle replied, her voice amplified by magic. A virulent dark penumbra manifested around her. ‘It’s just time someone put you out of your misery. I cannot let you interfere further.’

‘I think I will take it personally anyway, if you don’t mind.’ He reached deep inside his soul, seeing out his own magic, full of regret. He’d liked Oracle at first, but it seemed she had played him, an agent of Tartaros right under his nose.

Something invisible blocked his attempts and he discovered his second mistake; underestimating her abilities. She was recovering from whatever Manic and Mania had done to her. A pity they hadn’t killed her, but then I’m sure they’re enjoying this show. Wait until I get a hold of that pair...

‘I do regret doing this ... father,’ Oracle said, her entire body contorting with the effort of trying to destroy him.

‘Wha, what?’ It was all he could manage between the crushing weight he felt from her power, and her words.

‘I am the daughter of Rasnal Nalrost, and Astra Dar,’ she said, taking several steps towards him, leaving the water’s edge. She still had her hands to her temples, eyes milky-white. ‘I was born a thousand years ago. You are one half of Nalrost, and so you are one half my father, and all there is left of him.’

‘No,’ he whispered, feeling his body begin to give out under the strain. Her power was immense. It was all he could do to hold on.

She halted, staring at him with nothing but hate in her eyes. ‘I loathed them both, and you are nothing but a pathetic shadow of him. I was born undead, just like you. I am also the first true Daughter of Lucifer, who is my chosen father.’

With her mind, she drove Threadfin to his knees and he felt as though a massive hand was squashing him into the sand. She had killed the others; Forge and Lip, and she must have killed Droop after he had guided her away from that discordant music. In each case, she had either killed them or led them to their deaths.

As her magic crushed him, he felt his bones grind and crack. No doubt Astra had wanted to destroy him, but Lorn’s soul fragment had intervened at the last moment. It didn’t matter whether it was true or not. He chose to believe it and smiled despite his current predicament.

Oracle noticed, screwing up her face in concentration as she tried to squash him like a bug. She was immensely powerful; he now realised she could have single-handedly destroyed all those ships when they were aboard the Lamia a week before, but that hadn’t been part of her plan. She’d just put on a good show.

However, Threadfin wasn’t the only one to have underestimated someone’s powers. Oracle had forgotten the growing legend that was ol’ Fin Todder.

The Watcher heard his call, and it needed no further encouragement. As he had done before, he gave himself over to the beast, relinquishing almost all his will and control despite the huge risk. This was no time for half measures. His bones snapped and reformed, as darkness billowed around him forming wings. His head enlarged and his teeth grew, as horns protruded from his neck and face. A massive tail lashed the beach with a thunderous impact, cascading sand high into the air.

Oracle’s face paled as she lost concentration, backing away, but then faced with a massive dragon bent on one’s destruction, how could anyone concentrate?

Then something happened he did not expect. Oracle’s body spasmed and split apart as it also changed into an undead dragon, this one of pale white.

He half ran, half flew the short distance between them, jaws opening wide, and Oracle did likewise. The clash between them was horrendous, snarls and growls, slashing talons, flapping wings, and whipping tails, sand whipped up in a chaotic storm.

Threadfin managed to slam her into the one of the dead vessels. She clawed and snapped her way loose. With wings beating a thunderous downdraft, she rose above him.

Threadfin soared after her, but without warning, she dropped from the sky, wings snapping open at the last second, talons gleaming as she slammed into him, flinging him down. He smacked into the beach hurling sand and stones in every direction.

She was atop him, slashing, her jaws attempting to rip his throat out. He managed to hold her off, but it was then he realised his third mistake. He still maintained a level of control over the Watcher, not having given himself wholly to it. It was instinct. With a mental sigh, he surrendered, and felt the beast waste no time in seizing its chance.

It flung Oracle off, and launched itself after her, assaulting her again before she landed. Dark magic issued from her jaws, but it was a light breeze to this creature. It knew her draconic form, and it did not like the competition.

It swung its massive tail as she rose and attacked again, a heavy blow slamming her back into the sand, the tail spikes leave deep gouges in her flanks.

Then the Watcher loomed over her, opening its jaws. Threadfin saw it all as though from a distance, as though he was a spectator, and realised too late that he needed to claw back some control.

Oracle reverted to her undead human form, perhaps out of exhaustion or in the hope it might deter him, but Threadfin wasn’t in control anymore.

Her scream was short-lived, as its jaws bit down. The Watcher chewed for a moment and then spat out the results.

Threadfin fought with his magic, screaming in silence as it snarled back, struggling to maintain its freedom. With an exhaustive effort he managed to retrieve some autonomy, regaining his body.

Moments later, he was on his knees in human form, looking down at her face. That was all that remained of her, a shattered head, the rest of her in chewed-up pieces. He stroked her hair. His daughter in a manner of speaking, and yet not. He was not Rasnal Nalrost. What he was, was tired. Of the struggle. Of the fight. Whether she had started out good and had been turned, or whether she’d always served Lucifer, he didn’t know. In the end did it really matter? She was gone.

He got to his feet, and turned away to walk back up the beach towards the sounds of distant battle, and his chosen destiny. In his shadow, a disgruntled dragon followed, biding its time for another chance at freedom.