Dragonseed

'He's inside with Burke and the others,' said Bitterwood. 'We all arrived together.'

'Burke?' Shay ran his fingers through hair. His orange locks were disheveled and tangled to an absurd degree, as if he'd spent time inside a tornado. 'I can't believe it! I was told he was dead.'

'Death is apparently not as permanent as it used to be,' said Bitterwood.

'This is good fortune. I needed some luck after the last few days. Did Hex tell you about Jandra?'

'Some,' said Bitterwood. 'We haven't been together long. He failed to mention you'd sprouted wings.'

Shay glanced back at his silvery appendages, as if he was almost surprised to find them there. He stretched them out and gave them a gentle shake. The metallic feathers chimed softly. 'You like them? You're in luck. I have more of these in Hex's bag.'

Just then, Burke limped out the door, supported by Anza. They both stopped in their tracks as they followed the gaze of the crowd upward.

'Hallo, Sheh,' said Anza.

Shay's eyes widened. 'You can talk?'

Burke said, dryly, 'I think the more surprising development here is that you can fly.'

Shay grinned; then just as swiftly, his grin vanished.

'Burke, Dragon Forge is in trouble. There's an outbreak of yellow-mouth. Or, at least, there's fear of an outbreak. The foundry has come to a standstill. The walls were barely manned.'

Burke shook his head. 'I'm sorry to hear that. But it's not my problem anymore.'

Shay's eyes flashed with the same rage Bitterwood had witnessed when he'd announced he'd set fire to the library. 'Not your problem?' Shay shouted. 'Dragon Forge promised the rebirth of the Human Age. The revolution was the light of a new human dawn, the hope of the slave! You were the brains that made it possible!'

'I may have been the brains, but Ragnar was the heart. And that heart was corrupted. The two of us never trusted each other. We were doomed from the start.'

'You have to become the heart as well as the brains,' said Shay. 'You know you have the dream to make men free once more!'

Burke sighed. 'I've already caused too many people to die.'

Shay made several exasperated grunts as he tried to find the words to respond to this. 'Wha… but… it's not your fault people have died fighting to take Dragon Forge! You're not a king, pressing slaves into service. Those men at Dragon Forge were volunteers. Everyone who died, died for a cause. Giving up now means they'll have died in vain.'

Anza nodded. 'Lissen ta hem.'

Burke raised an eyebrow. 'You agree? I thought you were a pacifist now that you were worshipping Blasphet.'

Anza cast off her white robe, revealing the weapon-studded buckskin beneath. She drew her sword and said, 'Ah ahm a waryor. Ah belif in de cause.'

'You're a warrior because I robbed you of a normal life,' said Burke. 'I had no right to turn you into a weapon. All those years, Blasphet gathered young women around him and taught them to kill. They called him a monster. How much more of a monster am I to do the same thing to my own daughter?'

'Father,' she said, slowly, carefully. 'I… don't… want… a normal… life. Ah am… not a muh-sheen. Ah am your daughter. Ah love… my life.'

'You should hate me,' Burke whispered.

Anza pressed her lips into a thin, straight line. The muscles in her jaws flinched as worked out the next movements of her mouth in her head.

'You can use your hand signals to talk if it's easier,' said Burke.

She frowned. It was obvious, from her expression, that she was determined to make the muscle of her tongue obey her will with the same precision that the commanded all her other muscles.

'I love you, Father,' she said, slowly and deliberately. 'I'm happy… to fight… because I fight for you.'

'Thank you,' he whispered.

Anza returned his gaze with intense seriousness. 'We must fight… for Drak-on Forge.'

Burke nodded. He straightened his shoulders. He looked toward Bitterwood. 'How quickly can Skitter carry us back to Dragon Forge?'

Shay said, 'Not as fast as wings will carry us. I've got more of these in Hex's bag.'

Burke nodded, then jerked his head up, as if he suddenly remembered the reason he came out to the street in the first place. 'Bant, Jeremiah's awake.'

Bitterwood stepped out of the crowded street back into the candlelit barn, leaving Shay to fill in Burke on what he'd discovered at Dragon Forge. Jeremiah was sitting up now. The corpse-like pall that had gripped him was gone; his cheeks had color again. Zeeky sat beside him, her arms wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. Poocher was next to him also; Jeremiah had one hand on the pig's neck and was scratching him behind the ears. The big pig looked content.

Bitterwood walked toward Jeremiah. Before he could reach the boy, however, a vertical rainbow appeared in the air in the center of the barn. Several of Blasphet's followers gasped at the strange apparition.

A woman, dressed in a gown that resembled the red scales of a sun-dragon, appeared. She had a silver helmet atop her head. Bitterwood recognized her instantly.

'Jandra?' he said.

Jandra smiled as she spotted him. 'Bant!' she said, sounding genuinely pleased to see him. She turned her head and said, even more joyfully, 'Hex! Zeeky! Poocher! You're all here!'

Hex snaked his head toward the woman. At first, the swiftness of the motion led Bitterwood to think he was attacking her. Instead, he stopped inches from her face and sniffed, his nostrils flaring. Her hair fluttered as he inhaled as deeply as his dragon lungs could muster. He stared into her eyes, and she stared back.

He exhaled slowly and said, 'It smells like you. But, of course, with the goddess in your body, I don't know that I could tell a difference.'

'Sometimes you have to trust your nose,' said Jandra. 'You saw me fighting to regain control. I won. I've pushed the goddess out of my brain at last.'

Hex looked skeptical. 'Jandra didn't know how to form an underspace gate.'

'I do now,' said Jandra. 'I got rid of Jazz's personality, not her memories. I've learned something amazing while I've been away. I've been to Atlantis.'

The hair raised on the back of Bitterwood's neck. He'd encountered Atlanteans before. The technology Jazz had used came from there. Jazz had been his most dangerous fight, ever. It was difficult to imagine a whole city of people with her power.

Jandra continued, 'Now that I've been there, I have to go back. I need allies. I plan to destroy the city, and I don't know if I can do it alone.'

'Why would you want to destroy the city?' asked Hex.

Bitterwood was more puzzled by something else. 'How did you know we would be here?'

'Jazz could track her nanites in your quiver, and now so can I,' said Jandra. 'Speaking of nanites, I see my original genie has a new owner.' She looked at Blasphet. She didn't look particularly concerned by his presence. 'And who's using Vendevorex's genie?'

'The genie I buried?' Hex asked.

'It's not buried any more,' said Jandra. 'It's here, and it's in use. I can detect its radio pulses.'

Her eyes fixed on seemingly empty air beside Blasphet. 'Come out. If you can use the genie well enough to make yourself invisible, we should talk.'

For a moment, nothing happened, and then a calm voice said, 'Very well.'

The air beside Blasphet cracked as an unseen mirror began to vibrate. The silvery barrier broke into a shower of sparks and dust that fell to the earth in a perfect circle.

Standing within that circle was a sky-dragon wearing a skull cap. He spread his dark blue wings, which were studded with diamonds that twinkled like stars. He stared at Jandra with golden eyes that glowed as if small suns were hidden behind them.

'Greetings,' he said, taking a bow. He straightened up and looked around the room. 'Some of you are no doubt wondering why I'm no longer dead.'

Vendevorex, Master of the Invisible, had always appreciated the value of a dramatic entrance.