He raked a wing along the shore while bending down to scoop up a giant volume of earth, men, and equipment into his mouth. As far back as she was, Janel still found herself leaping out of the way to avoid being split in half by a wing feather shaped like a giant sword two feet wide.
Tyentso stood, acid spilling off her as though she were made of glass. She threw a spell at the dragon, but whatever it was, it seemed to have little effect except to draw his attention. Then Janel realized the emperor had done something to those few caskets that had landed on Morios’s neck, pulling the dragon’s head toward the ground.
The dragon’s head would never be closer to the ground than it was at that moment.
It might well be her only chance.
“Senera! Help me reach him!”
Senera snapped out her hands and gestured—and the ground next to Morios surged forward, making a ramp.
Janel sprinted up it and leaped, both hands on Khoreval. She aimed the spear straight for Morios’s eye.
Her thrust hit true. She felt the quicksilver metal of his eye give, then shatter as the spear drove deep. Morios roared, the sound loud enough to send a nightmarish stab of pain through her skull. He began tossing his head backward, ripping away chunks of scales and whatever passed for flesh on his body.
Janel faced a choice: either hold on to the spear and let herself be tossed a lethal distance into the air, or let go and fall a much shorter distance to the ground. Tyentso might be able to catch her. Maybe.
She chose the latter.
Janel felt her leg break as she landed, a searing snap of pain.
The dragon roared, and then roared again, and then kept making the noise, rhythmically.
Morios was laughing.
“Brilliant! I love it!” Morios pulled Khoreval from his eye. “This is the most fun I’ve had in millennia!”
Then the dragon snapped the spear in two.
59: THREE BRANCHES
Atrine, Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since everyone in a busy tavern failed to notice the emperor among them
Kihrin sat down on the throne and leaned back. “So … how are the nightmares treating you two?”
Both Thurvishar and Brother Qown raised their heads, looking surprised.
After a long, awkward pause, Brother Qown said, “Awful. I dream of caves filled with families who are choking to death or melting. Or choking to death and melting.”
“I told you not to research Quuros war curses.” Thurvishar shook his head. “I dream of Gadrith. It’s so hard to believe I’m finally free of the man.”
Brother Qown, who had been pacing around the throne room, looking at the mud-caked statues, turned to Thurvishar. “I’m curious about something. Relos Var once told me the only reason he didn’t kill Gadrith was because the man had something that belonged to him. And while Gadrith did, Relos wouldn’t move against him. So what was it?”1
“Okay, this conversation just turned a whole lot less ‘idle chitchat.’” Kihrin straightened.
“Why…” Thurvishar frowned, fingers absently turning the band of his father’s intaglio ruby ring. “No. No, I haven’t the slightest idea. Although … I did often sense Gadrith must have had some edge over Relos. But I grew up in the Capital, where everyone is blackmailing everyone.”
Kihrin cocked his head. “If it was information, it might well have died with Gadrith, but what if it wasn’t? Do you think he might have hidden something at Shadrag Gor or back at the D’Lorus estate?”
“You mean an artifact?” Thurvishar asked.
“Sure, why not? Relos Var claims he doesn’t have a Cornerstone himself, but I don’t believe him. All the other dragons do. Why wouldn’t he?”
Thurvishar blinked. “Wait. Just because he shape-changed into a dragon doesn’t mean he is one. Khaemezra did the same thing…”
“Yeah, but Relos Var is a dragon. Remember the dragon who flew overhead when I was in Kharas Gulgoth? That was Var.”
Thurvishar inhaled. “I suppose it might have been.”
“Well, If I were a dragon who could only be killed if someone had my Cornerstone,” said Qown, “and another wizard had it? I’d reclaim it the second I heard he’d died.”
“Yeah, I would too.” Kihrin sighed. “It was worth a dice throw, anyway.”
* * *
Janel stared up, dumbstruck, as the dragon reared back.
It hadn’t worked.
It hadn’t worked, and she’d done everything perfectly.
“Janel!” She had that much warning before Senera grabbed her, not physically but magically, pulling her from the path of Morios’s clawed hand.
“Aw, come back, little girl. We’re not done playing.”
“I’m so glad I’ve made a good impression,” Janel said, feeling hysterical.
A fractal circle opened in midair next to them; Tyentso stepped through.
“Cover your ears!” Tyentso shouted to Janel and Senera, as well as anyone else in proximity.
Tyentso pointed the Scepter of Quur at the dragon. Janel and Senera both put their hands over their ears. The air distorted as a beam roared from Tyentso’s scepter to Morios. A high-pitched, horrid sound emanated from the beam, impossibly painful to hear.
Where the beam hit, Morios’s body just … vibrated apart, the beam drilling right through him.
Oh, thank Khored, Janel thought. Surely this will—
Then Morios laughed again, and everyone watched in horror as the gaping holes through his body healed over.
“I take it back. I haven’t had a fight like this since my brother.”
But instead of attacking, Morios launched himself up into the air and began flying back toward Atrine. He turned and looked back over his shoulder as he flew, as if checking to make sure his audience was paying attention.
“What’s he doing?” Senera said.
“Baiting us,” Janel growled. “He knows we don’t want to see Atrine destroyed, so he’ll force us to go to him. As he said, he’s playing.”
“Oh, it’s worse than that,” Tyentso said. “He is going to hover over a crowd so I can’t try the magnet trick again.” She gave Janel a sympathetic look. “The medics are on their way. It was a good try. Sorry it didn’t work out.” She opened another portal and left.
“Damn it all.” Janel started to stand but then ground her teeth as the pain in her leg reminded her why moving was a bad idea.
“Wait here,” Senera said. “I can’t heal your leg, you know. Never could—you’re a two-healer job. Let me find someone.”2
“It’s fine,” Janel said through gritted teeth. “Help Tyentso. I can take care of this myself.”
“Good luck.” Senera paused and smiled at Janel. “You know, it was kind of fun at the end. Tell Thurvishar thanks for saving my life.” She summoned a portal for herself and ran through, tossing something to the side just before she did.
Senera’s final words sent a chill through Janel. She crawled over to where Senera had left and felt around on the ground, looking for what the woman had discarded.
Her hand closed on half a twig.
“No.” It couldn’t be the same twig. She had that twig. Janel fished under her bodice and pulled out the stick.