Elvenborn

35

Barking his elbows on the stone floor in his haste to get out, Kyrtian scrambled from under the construct just in time to see the monster turn towards them.

It was not an encouraging sight. And it got rapidly worse.

Shana just stood there, waving her arms at it, and the two bright spots—far too much like glaring, angry eyes—on its square, flat front panned over the space between them and pinned her in a circle of white light.

His mouth went dry, and fear ran down his backbone like a trickle of icy water. The thing emitted an angry whine, and lurched forward.

But before it had taken more than a single step, something moved in the darkness behind it, a shadowy form he barely made out against the glare, that wavered and surged upwards all in an instant—and then lunged.

Keman!

Monster of flesh against monster of metal. The dragon landed squarely on the construct's back, claws shrieking against its sides. The monster's legs buckled beneath the dragon's weight as Kyrtian stared in frozen fascination—

And that was all he had time to see, as Shana grabbed his wrist and wrenched him around, pulling at him. "Run!" she shouted, showing her heels as a good example, and he didn't need a second invitation. The monster might be encumbered, but it certainly wasn't defeated, and behind them the sounds of it thrashing about and Keman's claws scrabbling to take hold were proof enough of that.

Fear gave him a new burst of energy. They sprinted across the cave floor with Shana slightly in the lead—not because Kyrtian was playing the gentleman, either. The girl must have spent her childhood scrambling across rough ground like this; where he stumbled, she skimmed over obstacles like a frightened deer.

She must have a separate set of eyes in her feet.. . .

Behind them, crashes and earth-shuddering impacts testified that Keman was still in the fight. Ancestors bless you, dragon. But get yourself out of it as soon as we're clear!

She reached the ledge first and vaulted up onto it like an expert acrobat, turning just in time to offer her hand to help him scramble up beside her. Her hand was hard and tough, with surprising strength in it.

Keman— A quick glance over his shoulder showed him that the dragon still clung tenaciously to the back of the construct-monster, and nothing the monster could do was shaking him off.

He grabbed Shana's hand and hauled himself up beside her, turning immediately to face the fight, hoping that Keman had somehow gotten clever enough to outwit the thing.

And his heart leapt. Although the monster's "arms" flailed desperately, it couldn't reach the dragon with them, and those pincers were, next to its feet and weight, its best weapons. Keman had his hind claws lodged firmly all over the thing's back half, and his foreclaws clamped over the front edge. Kyrtian felt a smile as he saw what the dragon had done—wisely, he was not making any further offensive moves. Instead, he was content to let the monster wreak further damage on itself as it blundered about, trying to dislodge him. Keman had his tail curled tightly between his legs and out of harm's way, his wings folded tightly across his back, and his legs all tucked in so that the construct couldn't scrape him off without first scraping protruding sections of itself off as well.

The lights on the front swiveled independently as it tried and failed to illuminate the dragon on its back. It threw itself repeatedly against the walls, and bucked like a green horse, but couldn't get rid of him. It hadn't yet thought to roll over on its back—but maybe it couldn't. Keman was winning just by virtue of sticking on it like a burr.

In fact, it had taken some visible damage, not only from the walls of the cave, but from all of the other constructs it had blundered into. The right leg had a sort of hitch in its movement, now, and the sides were scarred where it had bashed its skin against the rock. Kyrtian winced as it flung itself intQ the wall of the cave, crashing into another construct in the process, and wondered how Keman managed to stay wedged onto the thing. What made the battle all the more uncanny was that aside from the crash of metal on rock and metal on metal, and an underlying, angry whir or hum, the entire battle was taking place in silence. It felt as if one or both of them ought to be giving tongue to terrible battle-roars.

He felt Shana tense up beside him. Then, suddenly, Keman made a move.

While the monster was still off-balance, he let go with his foreclaws and stabbed them down viciously at the lights. He caught them. With a grinding shriek as if the metal itself screamed, he wrenched first one, then the other, off the front. Metal and wire snapped and tore, and Keman tossed the lights aside, like a cruel boy pulling the legs off a beetle.

If the monster was ever going to display a voice, it should have then—

The lights went out as they fell, leaving only the lanterns he and his men had lit as illumination for the cave, and huge shadows sprang up behind the construct and its draconic burden, writhing and twisting as the thing thrashed and Keman took a new position on its back.

Now what—

"Run!" Shana shouted again, and as he turned to do so, he saw Keman fling himself off the monster's back at last, half running, half flying, straight for the cave-mouth where they stood.

That's what!

He didn't wait to see if the monster was going to follow, or if by taking its lights Keman had also blinded it. He ignored his aching side and put everything he had into a flat-out dash for the main cave. Within moments, they were fleeing through the darkness, with nothing more than the grey light at the end of the series of demi-caves to tell them where their goal was.

A scrabbling noise behind him made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up, and somewhere deep inside him he found another burst of speed— It was inside the tunnel. It was closing the gap between them! It was right on top of him!

Something grabbed him, closing around his waist and spinning him over on his side as it carried him forward! Air rushed past him as his captor picked up speed. He flailed at it with fists and heels—

"Shto thai" said a muffled and indignant voice at the back of his neck. "Ish ee!"

Keman ?

Teeth shrank away from him even as he realized they were sticking into him, and as Keman ran, his jaws formed themselves around Kyrtian's body.

Keman made greater speed than any smaller, two-legged creature possibly could; from his inverted position in the darkness, Kyrtian couldn't see much, but when he twisted his head, the dim, round light that represented the place where the last set of small caves met the entrance cave was getting bigger. And it was doing so a lot faster than it had when he was running.

He couldn't tell where Shana was, but Keman wouldn't have left her behind, so she must be with them. Probably she'd been able to catch hold of his neck on the run and vault herself into place like a trick-rider.

Behind—

A metallic crash that deafened him for a moment and shook small rocks loose to rain down onto their heads proved that the monster wasn't blind—and was still coming for them. From behind came the scrape and groan of protesting metal, and more crashes as the monster forced itself into the opening.

Keman found more speed somewhere; hot, metallic breath panted in and out over Kyrtian's body, and Kyrtian pulled in his arms and legs and tucked his head in to keep as much of himself inside Keman's mouth as he could.

"Anks," Keman said shortly.

The noise from behind wasn't falling away. Either the thing was still trying to follow them, or it had succeeded in getting in and was on their heels.

A violent impact—a dust-storm—Keman burst through what was left of the barrier of tangled carts and bones and relics, and out into the main cave—

And suddenly tossed his head up in a slewing, sideways motion, letting go of Kyrtian as he did so.

"Aiiiiiiiii!"

Kyrtian screamed as he flew through the air, and screamed again as something snatched him out of it as easily as a child catches a ball, then slammed him down on a bony, scaly surface that inexplicably had a saddle on it.

He clutched the leather, dazed, and even as his eyes took in the improbable sight of a dragon neck and head stretching away in front of him, strange and skeletal in the dim light, the dragon lurched into a run.

Ancestors! More of them?

Ahead of him—Keman, with Shana clinging to his neck; he must not have paused for a single stride as he tossed his burden of Elvenlord to the other. Keman scrabbled up the rock-pile at the entrance first, with no regard for niceties, dislodging anything that was loose in his haste to get out. As they followed, lurching and slipping while rocks went tumbling beneath and around them, Kyrtian ducked as more rocks showered down on them, and the dragon he rode cupped its wings forward to deflect some of the falling debris from him. His heart pounded, and his fingers were clamped so tightly to the saddle that they hurt, and all the while he heard the screech of protesting metal echoing behind them, coming, coming—

Then they were at the top, miraculously widened—then out—

Kyrtian gasped instead of screamed, as the dragon threw itself into empty space.

It glided heavily down the slope, wings wide-spread around him, and skidded into an abrupt landing at the bottom.

Kyrtian wasn't ready for that. He lost his grip, and tumbled awkwardly over the dragon's shoulder and down to the ground. The dragon spun around on its hind legs, nimble as a goat, and raced back up the slope to join the others, three of them, who were all clustered around the opening.

Kyrtian looked for Shana—and found her in the embrace of another wizard, shaking like a leaf, and whispering what sounded like a name. The wizard, who looked vaguely familiar, stroked her hair comfortingly, but spoke straight to Kyrtian.

"I hope you don't want to get back in there. Ever. The dragons are sealing the entrance."

Shana relaxed against the support of Lorryn's shoulder and cradled the wineskin in both hands; she didn't usually drink much wine but after today—

If anyone deserves a drink, I do.

She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life as Lor-ryn—in fact, she hadn't realized that the other dragons were there until they were all out of the caves.

Keman, Alara, Dora, and Kalamadea had sealed the entrance past anything other than another dragon getting through. They'd brought down half the mountain, it seemed, then fused the rocks together until they were exhausted and limp, their bright colors gone pale, their scales dull. The work had been urgent enough; they'd only just brought the rocks down when something began attacking the pile from inside the mountain, audible even down below. That was when they'd begun fusing the rocks together, and the moment that the monster contrivance encountered the fused section, the blockage was obvious even to an idiot—or a construct—for it began bashing something—itself? its claws?—against the rock-fall. But if it intended to loosen those rocks, it was going to meet with failure.

The dragons worked the pile from the top down, creating a plug of rock that was not going to move. The only way to get out now was to blow out the top of the mountain, or tunnel out at another place.

There was no way—they hoped—that the construct was going to get at them now.

The sound of battering still came from within the pile, but it was weaker now, and slower. Maybe—hopefully—it was running out of magical energy, and would relapse into its quiescent state.

Whatever; we're not going to wait around here to find out.

She took another pull on the wineskin, and closed her eyes. Lorryn. Oh, thank you, Lorryn. Thank you for thinking, for being here. It was perhaps at that moment that she really, truly realized how much she cared for him.

Lorryn had just finished explaining the situation with Cael-lach Gwain to Lord Kyrtian—who, at this point, was stunned and battered enough to accept just about anything. He just nodded—at all the salient points, so at least he was listening— and took it all in as if the affairs of Wizards were everyday things to him.

Huh. Then again, after the politics of the Great Lords, our little quarrels probably seem small beans.

Kyrtian's men had bandaged their scrapes and bruises, applied remedies inside and out, and supplied all of them with food and drink. Including the dragons. Bless them, they'd gone out and dragged back three dead deer—a small meal by dra-conic standards, after all that exertion, but enough to help revive them. The fire they'd built was immensely comforting, and for once, it wasn't raining.

"... so after we made sure he couldn 't come straight back to the Citadel, we waited. When he didn't come back at all, I finally decided that he'd either followed you, or he'd finally let his arrogance take him into a situation he couldn't get out of," . Lorryn said.

"And good riddance to bad rubbish, if you ask me," Keman grumbled under his breath. He—and the others—were too bone-weary to shift; they'd curled themselves around the entrance to the camp, making a formidable barrier between the camp and anything that might even consider going after what was inside it. Kyrtian's men were still wide-eyed and a little nervous about being surrounded by dragons, but were handling it all remarkably well. Keman was flank-to-flank with Dora; the sight of two young dragons being as affectionate as any two young lovers seemed to go a long way to reassuring Kyrt-ian's men.

I suppose it makes them seem more human. .. .

"Keman has been talking with me, at night," Dora said, and the bare skin around her eyes and mouth flushed a delicate pink. Shana saw two of Kyrtian's men exchange a knowing look, and hid a smile. When humans who'd never seen dragons before this could recognize a shy blush on the face of one, things would be all right. "We can speak over greater distances, mind-to-mind, than you can. And—we miss each other when we're apart." She eyed Shana with guilt. "I'm sorry Keman didn't mention it before, but—we didn't want you to feel badly because we could talk and you and Lorryn couldn't."

"Of course," Kyrtian said, with a slow smile. "I can certainly understand that." He passed his wineskin to one of his men, and settled back against the bulk of Keman as comfortably as if he used a dragon as a backrest every day.

Dora flushed again. "So I knew where you were, generally. And, of course, Lorryn had already been to the place where Shana and Keman transported to in the first place and he knew how to get there himself."

I should have known the lovebirds were chatting instead of sleeping, she thought—with a little envy. It would have been a lot nicer if she'd been able to do that with Lorryn without the aid of Keman. On the whole though, it was a damned good thing they had been billing and cooing every night. If they hadn't been, she might not be here right now.

"So when Dora told me that you had found the cave and when Caellach Gwain didn't come back, I decided it was more important to get out here and see if we could find him before he found you," Lorryn said with a shrug when Shana tilted her head up to give him a measuring stare.

"You supposed he'd been able to follow us, then?" she asked. "I couldn't take the chance that he hadn't," Lorryn replied. "I figured that bringing three dragons along would make certain he didn't try anything if—or when—we caught him."

"I knew they were coming of course," Keman put in. "But all they were supposed to do was to look for the Old Whiner. They weren't going to butt their snouts in on us, why should they? There was no reason to. When we got back, you'd have just found out they'd caught the wretch, so I didn't see any reason to bother you with it."

"You left me in charge to deal with Caellach," Lorryn told Shana, meeting her gaze frankly, and she gave his hand a little squeeze. "Without Caellach, there was no one to organize discontent. Frankly, knowing where he was and keeping him from making conspiracies out of half-truths was more important than my being directly in command for a day or so."

She nodded, and smiled. How could she not agree with him when he was obviously every bit as competent as she was? She left him in charge; that meant to be in charge and make decisions without consulting her if there was no need to. It would be pretty absurd to be angry with him for doing just that.

But she could tell him all that later, when they were alone. For now it was enough to know that she didn't have to be "the Elvenbane" alone anymore....

"We transported in this morning and flew here, but we never, ever expected you to wake up a monster! And let me tell you," Lorryn concluded, "those last few moments when that thing attacked you and we were still in the air were the worst in my life."

"They weren't any joy for us, I can tell you," Keman grumbled.

"So that was why you went ahead and attacked the thing!" Shana exclaimed.

"You surely didn't think I'd be stupid enough to do that without being pretty sure I knew what I was doing, did you?" Keman replied indignantly. "I think I did all right without their help, thank you. We didn't even really need them to get out of the cave, and I know I could have at least blocked the entrance enough by myself to hold that monster, long enough for us all to transport out of here, anyway! I'll admit I was glad to see them, and it made getting that thing bottled up easier, but we three were perfectly able to deal with it on our own."

"You might have at least told me that there was help coming," Shana pointed out—reasonably, she thought, but Keman only snorted, and for a moment, she was irritated.

"I didn't exactly have time to discuss it with you!" he said, looking just as irritated as she was. "And we weren't in any trouble, anyway!"

She decided not to quarrel with him—but this new attitude on his part was something she hadn't expected. Not from Keman the gentle, Keman her little brother—

Keman the not-so-little-anymore. . . .

She'd have to take that into her calculations from now on. Males, she thought. He was so much more reasonable when he was still a dragonling! It had to be all of the courting and cooing with Dora, she finally decided.

He wasn't a "kid" anymore and it looked as if he was going to be like every other adolescent male and start proving it.

Now he'd behave like most of the other young male dragons she knew. Wizard males and human males, for that matter. Next thing, he'd be flying mock-combats and doing acrobatics for Dora's admiration.

Lorryn must have guessed at her thoughts—or maybe she was thinking them a little too loudly. :No worries,: he said, squeezing her hand. :He'll get over it. And I assure you, I'm past it.:

:Thank the Ancestors!: she replied, her humor coming back. .7 think I'd send you to the Iron People to get it beaten out of you if you weren 't!:

"All I can say is that I'm glad you came," Kyrtian said fervently, with a grateful slap to Keman's flank. "Whatever is in there can remain in there forever, so far as I'm concerned." He shuddered, and said nothing more, but Shana could only wonder if he would feel that way some time in the future. After all, his father—or what was left of his father—was still in there.

Well, it wouldn't be her problem. He was forewarned now, and if he decided he had to go back, he knew he'd better come with plenty of help.

And, being without a lady friend to impress, he just might act in a sensible manner, unlike certain young dragons.

She cocked her ear to listen for a moment to things outside the camp. The sounds from inside the mountain were definitely weaker. "Did you find any sign of Caellach?" she asked, belatedly recalling that this was why their rescuers had come in the first place.

"We found where he'd transported in—so he did manage to learn the spell—and then we found ambush-beast tracks on top of his," Lorryn said grimly. "We didn't bother to follow them back to the den; there was enough blood to pretty much guarantee that Caellach must have been the beast's dinner."

Her mouth formed into a soundless "O" but she couldn't think of what else to say. Lorryn waited for a moment, then continued. "My thought is to just let him vanish. If the other Old Whiners mink he's gone off to the old Citadel or somewhere else to live in luxury with their belongings and with luxury goods lifted from the Elvenlords, they're not going to make a martyr out of him."

"Whereas, if they found out his own stupidity killed him—?" she countered. "Wouldn't that destroy his credit with them?"

"Then someone might try and make it look as if you arranged for his death," Lorryn replied, with a grimace. The fire flared up for a moment and gave them all a look of rapt concentration. "It'd only be our word for what really happened."

"A sufficiently clever fellow could even make him out to be a martyr if they did believe that an ambush beast killed him," Kyrtian said unexpectedly. "After all, he was the last supporter of the Old Ways, and he was trying to get information that would show the others that you and your New Ways were fomenting treachery to your own kind. It wasn't stupidity that killed him, it was a willingness to sacrifice himself to prove the truth."

Shana stared at him for a moment, astonished.

Where did he get that? It's possible—it's even likely—but I wouldn't have thought of it!

Even Lorryn looked surprised. "I'm glad you're on our side," Lorryn managed, after a moment. "If you can think of things like that—"

Kyrtian shrugged, his eyes bleak in the firelight. "I didn't always think this way," he pointed out. "I suppose I can thank my late cousin Aelmarkin for my education—and my loss of innocence." Then he smiled, and he looked more like himself again.

"Well, your cousin got exactly what he deserved," Keman said.

But Kyrtian shrugged. "Much as I'm glad I won't have to worry about him any longer, I wouldn't wish the death he got on anyone."

Shana compressed her lips; she wasn't feeling that generous. Especially when—now that she came to think about it—it was entirely possible that it had been Aelmarkin who woke that blasted construct. "I doubt he would have said the same of you," she said brusquely.

Kyrtian sighed, and looked weary and pensive. "You're probably right. No, you are right. But it would make me more like him to think that way, so I won't." His jaw firmed. "I refuse to descend to his level. So I'll forgive him."

"Now that he isn't here to make any more trouble for you, eh?" Keman said shrewdly.

"His men are shivering with fear in an ill-made camp, out that way," Father Dragon put in, unexpectedly. "Shall we rescue them, do you think?"

"Yes!" said Kyrtian and Lorryn.

"No!" said Shana and Keman at the same moment. All four exchanged glances, and it was Shana who broke the deadlock.

"All right," she said grudgingly. "I suppose we can round them up and take them back to the new Citadel when you've left, Kyrtian. Zed can probably find a use for them."

"We'll leave the way we came," said Kyrtian, with a sigh.

"Having found nothing but empty caves. We have a larger plan to think of."

"Indeed," Kalamadea rumbled, and it seemed to Shana that he spoke for all of them. "And now—rest We have a great deal of work ahead of us."

Indeed we do, she thought, as Lorryn helped her to her feet, and led her to the tent that two of Kyrtian's men had vacated for them.

Kyrtian stretched, feeling every single scrape, bruise, and pulled muscle. But just as much as he longed for home and a hot bath, he dreaded facing his mother with the news he had.

Absently, to distract himself from his own gloomy thoughts, he patted Kemah's side. "I don't suppose I could talk you and your lady-friend into turning up in a few days, could I?" he asked. "I'd love for mother to see you for herself."

And it would do her good to distract her from my—bad news. Oh, of course, she had been assuming all these years that his father was dead—but it was one thing to assume, and another to know. When you assumed, there could always be that little hope lurking in the back of your heart that you couldn't quite give up....

He knew he was never going to actually tell her what he had found. It would be enough to tell her that he'd found his father's remains and not get any more elaborate than that.

And tell her that, yes, he did find the Great Portal just as he 'd always expected, but that he was killed in an accident. That it looked as if he was taken completely by surprise. That would leave her with the comfortable impression that he'd never known what was going to happen to him.

Keman laughed. "Of course you could! In fact, I think I will ask Lorryn and Shana if Dora and I can be the Wizards' liaisons with you. They don't need us particularly to spy on the Great Lords, and the advantage of having us with you rather than Wizards is that we won't disguise our true nature with illusion. We can pose as a Lesser Lord and his Lady. Should you have any more visits from—say—Lord Kyndreth, no matter how many illusion-dispelling magics he casts, we'll pass his test."

"I hadn't thought of that!" Kyrtian said, in weary surprise, feeling a renewed stirring of pleasure. "Consider the invitation tendered, then. That would solve any number of problems."

Dora nudged him with her snout affectionately. "I think that would be lovely, my Lord," she replied. "I don't suppose you have any caves on your property, do you?"

Kyrtian repressed the automatic shudder; after what he'd just been through, he never, ever wanted to go underground again—

But he looked over at Lynder, who grinned sheepishly, and answered for him. "Quite a few, mi—ah—your—"

"Just Dora," the female dragon said, in a kindly tone of voice.

"Ah." Lynder rubbed the side of his nose with his hand, self-consciously. "Dora, then. Yes, Hobie and I have found quite a few. Limestone caves, water-carved, with lots of formations."

"Lovely!" the female dragon said with enthusiasm. "Lord Kyrtian, you wouldn't mind if we took over one, would you?"

"We," is it? he thought, holding back a chuckle at the way Keman's expression changed from startlement to pleasure. No wonder the young cock is starting to strut! Might be a very good thing for all of them to separate this young fellow from the rest of his peers, so he's less tempted to act—well, like a young cock. With the current state of things ... best to get him settled. The next time there was a situation involving young Keman, the urge to try and prove himself could have some serious consequences.

"I would consider it an honor," he said, to both their satisfaction.

"Shana's so used to depending on me, you know, and I think it would be better for her if she got out of that habit and started—well—depending on Lorryn instead," Keman said in a slightly patronizing undertone, with a glance at the nowoccupied tent. "I practically raised her—with Mother's help, of course, but I did most of it."

That concept made his head swim for a moment! "Ah— really?" he asked.

Keman chuckled. "I had all sorts of pets. So far as the others of our Lair were concerned, she was just one more! Until she started talking and acting like a person, of course."

It made Kyrtian's head swim a little more. "In the very near future—when you're settled on my estate and we have the time—you are going to have to tell me all about that," he said, as firmly as he could.

He was not going to disabuse the young dragon of his notion that Lashana "depended" on him. He did feel a pang of jealousy though, over that young Wizard, Lorryn....

No, he corrected himself. Not jealousy. Envy.

It wasn't that he wanted Shana—she was a handsome young woman, but not, well, not the type he was attracted to, really. Except, perhaps, for those characteristics of mind and spirit that he admired. No, what he wanted was the kind of relationship that she and Lorryn so clearly shared. What his mother and father had once had together.

Ancestors. Won't that be a surprise for Mother. But he didn't think he'd give her free rein to go hunt him up a wife. Not at the moment. There were a lot of difficult days ahead of them; they were all going to have a great many more important things to occupy their time.

Like how to survive, for one thing.

He was under no illusion that with Aelmarkin gone, all of his troubles were about to vanish. Quite the contrary. He was now into the morass of the politics of the Great Lords, he had the Young Lords to worry about and—

And I'm technically a traitor. I'm conspiring with the Wizards to create a slave rebellion.

All that, in addition to trying to keep his own people safe. If he thought about it too long, it seemed impossible, and he began to doubt he'd even manage that last, and in some ways most important task, much less all the rest.

But he wasn't alone in this, now. For once, it didn't all depend on him and his paltry skills. We'll be doing it together, dragons and Elvenlords, Wizards and humans working together. At last.

And with that formidable combination—he had to believe there was no problem that they could not ultimately defeat.