Ultimate magic, p.13
Ultimate Magic, page 13
For a moment, the White Dragon made as if to swoop down and lock claws with Alec. Then it shied back, flapping toward the northern wall on its mighty, pearl-white wings.
“All units!” Baldir Diamondspear cried, his voice a dragon’s flame. “Attack! Kill the Red Dragon!”
The fleet of airships surrounding the city opened fire. Cannonballs filled the sky, whizzing past Alec’s draconic head as the vessels Baldir Diamondspear brought with him to Nessus focused on his dragon’s body.
With an angry growl, Alec dove low, avoiding most of the shots. That coward! He thought, anger sizzling in his heart like the flames that powered his claws and scales. He thinks he’s going to let the High King’s airships do his dirty work?
He’d show Baldir the true power of a dragon!
Alec soared toward the nearest airship like a bullet, tucking his wings in low for speed. The ship erupted two times with cannon shot, then three, until he could see the faces of the Imperial troops on deck. The men began to panic, switching to arrows and longbows, but it was already too late.
Alec peered over the side—then the rage of the dragon took hold. His maw erupted with flame, burning the deck to a crisp. Tongues of fire coursed across the boards, roasting the interior of the airship. Finally, something inside of it exploded, ignited by the flame, and the vessel began to rapidly lose altitude, free falling out of the sky.
One down, Alec thought. Archon only knows how many to go—
A cannonball whizzed directly at his head. Alec braced for impact, the shot too close to dodge—then something collided with the mass, sending it off course.
Trystara floated in front of his face, wreathed with power. The demoness looked like a goddess of the underworld, her skin clad in sharp black armor. When she grinned, she had a mouth of fangs.
“That was close!” Trystara said, sounding like her ordinary self in that fearsome body. “They almost managed to land a hit on you, Master!”
Alec’s draconic maw grinned. “Well done,” he told his familiar. “Let’s make sure they don’t get a second chance!”
Alec and Trystara split up, each attacking the airships. As it turned out, the dreaded need to clear the sky fully before they could engage the White Dragon didn’t occur—once he and Trystara destroyed another half-dozen airships, the morale of the remaining crews broke. Soldiers retreated from the decks, taking the relative safety of the engine room as the airships reversed course, heading out toward the sea.
“What are you doing!?” the White Dragon demanded. Baldir Diamondspear’s voice sounded stripped of command—almost like a petulant child as he watched his forces flee. “Turn around and fight, damn you! Focus on the Red Dragon and bring him down!”
A small figure raked its claws across the White Dragon’s scales. Trystara giggled with malicious glee, diving away from the grip of Baldir’s claws before he could grab hold of her.
“Your friends aren’t willing to risk their lives!” the demoness yelled, soaring back toward Alec. “That’s the difference between you and Alec, Baldir! Other than the whole ‘not being a ghost’ thing!”
White flames erupted in Baldir’s eyes. “You’ll die for that remark, wench!” the White Dragon growled, channeling more energy into its scaled body.
Trystara flew over to Alec and slapped one of his clawed hands. “Your turn!” the demoness said brightly, sticking her tongue out at Baldir. “Take him down, Alec! Let’s finish this thing and stop Chaos for good!”
A surge of enthusiasm filled Alec Diamondspear as the Red Dragon flew aloft. He closed the distance between himself and Baldir Diamondspear, his claws flexing as more flames erupted from his maw. The White Dragon flew this way and that, missing most of the blasts. It was clear that the two of them would soon be in melee range, and they’d settle this one-on-one.
Alec took a swipe at Baldir’s great draconic head, gouging at one of the flames in his eyes. In response, the White Dragon wrapped its arms around him, grappling like a wrestler in a gladiator’s ring. The two collided, a mass of claws and teeth and angry remarks. Alec swung his tail; Baldir headbutted Alec right between the eyes.
“We seem to be evenly matched in the air!” Baldir cried, his muscles bulging as he tried to get Alec’s neck into a sleeper hold. “Let’s see how you handle things on the ground, foundling!”
Baldir tucked in his wings and stopped holding himself aloft, clinging even more tightly to Alec’s scales as he did so. The combined weight of two mighty dragons proved too much for Alec’s strength, and both the White Dragon and the Red toppled from the sky. They turned end over end, each trying to be on top when they finally hit the streets of Nessus.
Baldir managed it by slipping out of Alec’s grip just before impact. The White Dragon overtook the Red, pushing downward as Alec hit a building hard. The foundation buckled beneath him, and the two were falling once again, crashing through the rubble to the street below.
Alec, however, had no time to regain his senses. The moment Baldir lay on top of him, the White Dragon erupted with a bolt of pure flame, spitting it into his eyes from a distance of no more than a playing card’s width. Alec screamed as his vision was ripped away—the entire world flared with pain.
Then Baldir did it again. And again.
Alec struck out blindly, trying to make the endless waves of fire stop. Just by chance, his fist connected with the side of Baldir’s head, forcing the White Dragon to twist.
Alec’s vision cleared just in time to see Baldir looming over him, both sets of claws outstretched. The White Dragon was about to stab him through the eyes, blinding him for good!
He twisted, trying to roll away, but the rubble held him fast. Far above Baldir’s head he could see Trystara descending like a barrel going over a waterfall, but the beautiful demoness wouldn’t be able to reach him in time. He lifted a claw weakly, preparing to do his best to parry the blow…
A tiny explosion rocked the side of Baldir’s head. The White Dragon roared in sudden pain, clutching the wound, his debilitating attack forgotten. He turned in a rage to see a small airship flying over the skyline, firing with everything that it was worth.
The Titan’s Claw!
“Your friends,” Baldir growled, looking annoyed. “Always the whole world is against me, Diamondspear. All society, all known order itself conspires against me! Yet still I rise! Yet still I win—!”
“I wish you’d shut up already!” Trystara growled, landing on the back of Baldir’s head. Her claws raked the fresh wound the Titan’s Claw had opened, rending flesh and scales alike. Baldir’s cries became a horrified shriek as pale white blood dripped down the side of his head, his claws battering at Trystara but missing.
The Titan’s Claw did not fire again. Seeing Trystara on the White Dragon’s head, it rapidly gained altitude and began heading back out toward the docks. Alec could just barely see his friends on deck, cheering him on.
Then Baldir fired a beam of white-hot flame at the airship, and the vessel twisted in the air.
“No!” Alec shrieked, but it was too late. The Titan’s Claw began rapidly losing altitude, spinning in a circle as it frantically searched for a safe place to land. He could see his friends being flung around like rag dolls on board, though thankfully no one had gone overboard. “Trystara, help them!”
The demoness jumped off Baldir’s head and flew toward the airship, moving as quickly as she could. Baldir watched her go with glee and leaned on Alec harder, droplets of his white blood sizzling across Alec’s scales.
“That’s what happens when your friends are willing to risk their lives for you,” the White Dragon said in a mocking tone. “Sometimes, they lose those lives!”
Alec knew his friends weren’t dead, but they most certainly were in trouble. He needed to finish this fight and help them, get the Titan’s Claw running before the High King’s troops could capture his group.
“You’re nothing, Baldir Diamondspear,” Alec said, grabbing the White Dragon’s shoulders and forcing him back. He rose to his full height, spitting flame, and extended his claws. “You’re not even worthy of that name!”
The two grappled again and again, leaving destroyed buildings and rubble in their wake. Trystara disappeared, along with the Titan’s Claw, and Alec just had to hope for the best where his friends were concerned. He had to use all his concentration just to keep Baldir from defeating him.
Despite all his powers, Alec felt himself beginning to flag before the onslaught of Baldir Diamondspear. The shade was full of so much hate, so much self-denial, that nothing could get through to him—and nothing could stop him.
Alec managed to get his hands around Baldir’s throat, but the White Dragon dealt a punishing tail swipe to his midsection that forced him to retreat. Each of them fired a beam of flame, which twisted down the street and destroyed each other in their power. Finally, Baldir just hauled off and grabbed Alec, digging in his claws as light washed over both dragons.
“Let’s finish this the old-fashioned way,” the shade spoke in Alec’s ear. Its tone was mocking, cruel—the voice of a victor playing with the defeated before landing the killing blow. “I wouldn’t want you to destroy the platform where they’re going to kill my dear father…”
In fact, it was that very platform where Alec and Baldir now found themselves. Both shrank back down from draconic form, the awesome and terrifying powers that had transformed them both extinguished for the moment. Alec had no idea where the Diamondspear could be, and he’d seen no sign of Baldir’s scythe since they’d landed. The two fought with fists, feet, and teeth, like men possessed. Like cavemen fighting over a slain kill.
Alec kept on fighting, but his vision had begun to dim. He’d wounded Baldir just as many times as the man had managed to hurt him, yet only Alec appeared to feel the pain and debilitation of his wounds. Baldir looked fresh as a daisy, ready to go for ten more rounds if that’s what was needed to defeat Alec.
Finally, the young man found himself on the boards, with Baldir standing over him. Blood trickled from Baldir’s nose and teeth, yet the look on his face was savage and triumphant.
“You lose, foundling,” Baldir said, wiping his mouth. He searched the scaffold for something to land the killing blow with and came up with a discarded knife. It looked like little more than a black piece of metal from the forge, one of the cheap offerings given to the City Watch.
But it would do the job.
“Stop, Baldir,” Alec said, lifting the Ring of the Archon. Surely that gift would clear the fog in Baldir’s mind and allow him to see what he truly was? “Look at the ring, shade! See your true nature—”
Baldir gave the ring a glance, then slashed viciously with the knife. Alec felt a horrible pain in his finger, then a searing burn as Baldir applied fire to the wound. When Alec’s vision cleared, he found himself staring at the stub of his ring finger. The digit carrying the Ring of the Archon lay on the boards, severed at the knuckle.
Impossible, Alec thought, watching the severed finger twitch. The light went out of the Archon’s Ring, the connection between himself and divinity severed. No, he can’t have…
Baldir lifted the knife with both hands, only for a rock to hit him in the back of the head. It was more of an annoyance than an actual wound, yet it prompted the shade to turn.
Eleira stood at the edge of the scaffold, two more rocks in her fists. “Don’t you dare hurt him, you bastard!” the elf girl shouted, tossing another stone as she reached for her spellbook.
Baldir ducked out of the way of this second stone, rolling his eyes. “Your friends,” he said, as casually as if he and Alec were old schoolyard chums. “Gods, they’re so annoying. Like little rats, and every time you think you’ve managed to stop the infestation, they pop right back up…”
“Eleira,” Alec croaked weakly. “Run! Save yourself!”
A grin like nothing Alec had ever seen before twisted Baldir Diamondspear’s face. “Hard to get married when you’re missing your ring finger,” the shade said, glancing over at the elf girl. “I think I’ll cut both of your little tramp’s off, right before she watches me kill you—”
“BALDIR DIAMONDSPEAR!”
The sound rang across the scaffold like the voice of the Archon himself. Baldir froze, nearly dropping the knife from his suddenly nerveless fingers. Slowly, the shade turned, grinning as he watched something out of Alec’s view.
“There you are,” the shade cackled happily. “I thought you ran for the hills, Dad! But here you are, right where you belong…”
Somehow, Alec managed to sit up. He reached for his severed finger and plucked the Ring of the Archon from it, then tucked the all-important piece of jewelry into a pocket of his robe. His severed digit no longer hurt—it was as if Baldir had put some kind of healing spell in with the fire he’d used to cauterize the wound. Thank the Archon for small mercies, at least.
He managed to crawl to Eleira on her side of the scaffold. On the opposite end stood Uriel Diamondspear.
Alec had seen the Archmage in many different moods. He’d been a father figure to Alec, a guiding light in the most difficult of times, and a fierce warrior on the battlefield in his younger days. He’d watched the man’s regret at his past mistakes, and shared in his hopes for the future.
He’d never seen Uriel like this before. Surrounded by power, wrapped in his splendid robes, the Archmage of House Diamondspear looked like the Archon himself.
“Baldir,” Uriel said, taking a step forward. “Oh, how I’ve failed you.”
Baldir Diamondspear snickered. All thoughts of finishing off Alec or severing Eleira’s fingers had fled from the man’s mind. It was clear that Uriel Diamondspear, his so-called father, was the one thing that occupied his mind.
“So you’re finally willing to come clean,” the shade said, clapping his hands. A new scythe materialized in Baldir Diamondspear’s hands—or perhaps it was the same weapon as before, teleported from where it had fallen to its Master’s hands. “Tell them, Dad! Tell them everything you did to me!”
“I should have saved you,” Uriel said, shaking his head sadly. “I should have bent the laws of time and space itself in order to keep my son with me. But I will not make the same mistake twice. I will run from the past no longer. Baldir. Come to me.”
“Uriel, don’t!” Alec couldn’t understand it. The Archmage wasn’t even trying! Baldir had an incredible amount of power on his side, yet Uriel could have still thrown everything he had at the shade. Why did he just stand there, staring at the shade of Baldir Diamondspear as if he were seeing a ghost?
Because he is seeing a ghost, Alec realized.
“Maimonides almost has the Titan’s Claw ready,” Eleira whispered as she helped Alec to his feet. “He’ll be here any minute, and—oh my gods! Alec, your finger…”
Alec just shook his head. “Fight me!” he demanded, taking a shaky step forward. “We aren’t finished yet, Baldir! You haven’t killed me!”
The shade didn’t even turn. But Uriel looked over his son’s shoulder, giving Alec a look that was as fierce as the Archon himself.
“Make sure Maimonides studies those blueprints,” Uriel said, casting his voice over the scaffold as Baldir advanced on him. “Take the Ring of the Archon to the High King, Alrick Demesne. Somehow you must convince the High King to see reason, and launch the Sky Watch against the forces of Chaos.”
“I can’t!” Alec cried. He felt himself on the verge of tears. “The Ring—it failed! Baldir cut it right from my hand!”
A sad smile spread across Uriel’s face. “You must try again,” the old man said. Baldir was now only a few steps away, the scythe twisting back and forth in his hand. “And I must ask one last thing of you, Alec.”
“Please, no,” Alec said. He made to race after Baldir, but Eleira held him back. “You don’t want him, Baldir! You want me! Finish what we started!”
“Make sure you never lose this again,” Uriel said, tossing something across the scaffold with a faint smile. “Give it to your and Eleira’s children, so that they can carry on the Diamondspear line where I failed.”
The silver baton of the Diamondspear landed in Alec’s hands. “Uriel!”
“You may not have issued from my loins, young man, but you are my son,” Uriel said. “Remember that, Alec. Always.”
Baldir struck once with the scythe, and Uriel fell to the ground.
“Noooo!” Alec screamed. It was no use. Eleira tugged at him from behind, her own sobs filling the square. Both of them cried as Baldir raised the scythe once more, slashing through the fallen figure of Uriel Diamondspear. The Archmage.
Dead.
Silence filled the square. Baldir Diamondspear stared down at the man he called his father, blood dripping from his weapon. There was no longer anything that could be called even remotely human in his eyes.
“Very well,” Baldir said, straightening up from Uriel’s body. “Let’s go ahead and take care of you two now—”
A gust of wind blew across the scaffold, blowing Baldir backward. Just behind Alec and Eleira, a silver airship descended from between two buildings, its bottom covered in magical runes. Maimonides the Shadebringer stood on the helm, guiding the vessel down to the scaffold with great skill.
When he saw the body curled up at Baldir’s feet, he let out a mournful cry. “Urry! No…”
“Come on,” Eleira said through her tears. “Alec, we have to go!”
Alec felt as if he were standing in waist deep syrup. “I… I can’t,” he said, watching Baldir slowly approach with the scythe. “I have to go to Uriel. I can’t let this happen…”
Then suddenly, stronger hands were lifting Alec from his feet. The demoness Trystara grabbed him beneath the shoulders and pulled him onto the deck of the Titan’s Claw, having just done the same to Eleira a few moments before.
“Maimonides, now!” Jolenta screamed from the deck. “They’re on board! Rise, man, rise!”
The Titan’s Claw soared into the air, leaving the rapidly shrinking form of Baldir Diamondspear standing on the scaffold. The white-haired mage locked eyes with Alec as the airship rose out of his reach, smiling like a shark.
