draped across its flanks. Two ridged horns curved forward around a face that seemed almost skeletal, with leathery black skin stretched over its skull. Its tail lashed behind it, tipped with a serrated blade that scratched long cuts into the airship's deck. Its mouth opened and emitted a long, low hiss that only slowly registered on Rienne's mind as a series of changing sounds, presumably Draconic words she couldn't understand.
This story would be better, she thought, if I could report on the witty banter I exchanged with the dragon. Sorry, Gaven.
The thought of Gaven seemed to soothe her fear, and she spotted Maelstrom beneath the dragon's hind foot. The dragon's yellow eyes were on hers, and its mouth opened and closed quickly in what seemed almost like a laugh. It believed Rienne was at its mercy, she realized-helpless without her sword.
Well, let it think so, she thought.
Slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on the dragon's, she got to her feet. It watched her intently, its eyes gleaming, as if eager to see how she would try to extract herself from this situation. She heard Jordhan's stifled breathing, trying not to be noticed. Had the dragon noticed him at the helm? That might affect how it would respond to her movements. She decided to test it.
Crouching low, ready to dive away from any attack, she shifted a few steps to her left, toward the prow. It countered with a few shuffling steps to its left, toward Jordhan, dragging Maelstrom along beneath its clawed foot. The airship creaked and rocked, and Rienne heard branches snap. The dragon's movement suggested it didn't know Jordhan was there, or it didn't care about being trapped between two foes it considered insignificant. Mostly, it was trying to keep the bulk of its body between Rienne and Maelstrom.
Its mouth flapped open and closed again, and it spat a jet of acid at her-just to keep her moving, it seemed. She sidestepped the spurt of black slime, circling back to her right, toward the wheelhouse. The dragon countered her move again, and for just an instant one foot scrabbled on the slanting deck. The dragon's wings spread slightly as it fought for its balance, and Rienne used that moment to strike.
She threw herself directly between the dragon's front legs, at the space below its plated belly. It reared in surprise, throwing its wings wide and flailing at her with its claws. One claw raked across her back, but the blow had no strength behind it. Rienne rolled beneath the dragon, braced herself with her arms, and kicked with all her strength at the leg that pinned Maelstrom to the deck.
With a roar of fury, the dragon slid toward the prow. It kicked off from the airship and flapped wildly to get itself aloft, spraying acid across the deck. Rienne snatched Maelstrom up and leaped into the nearest tree, dodging the worst of the spray, then hopped through its branches to the ground.
Solid earth beneath her feet and Maelstrom in her hand again, Rienne fell easily into a ready stance and waited for the dragon to follow her, trusting that its rage would make it come to her without lingering to destroy Jordhan's airship-or Jordhan himself.
She wasn't disappointed. Shrieking its frustration, the dragon hurtled down at her, fangs and claws bared. It snaked between the trees more easily than she had thought possible, folding its wings close and falling more than flying. Terror seized her again, and she rolled beneath its onslaught. She shouted as its claws raked her, but answered their bite with an upward thrust that drove Maelstrom deep between two of the heavy plates that protected the dragon's belly. Black blood spurted out over her hand, stinging like the acid of its breath, and the dragon crashed into the ground behind her.
She rolled to her feet and leaped to where the dragon had landed, swinging Maelstrom in whirling arcs around her. The dragon kept its feet despite its wound, and its head darted forward to bite at her as she came within reach. Its teeth closed around her arm, and pain seared through her as acidic spittle ate into the wound. Her other arm brought Maelstrom to slash into the dragon's neck, just behind its jaw. The jaws opened and Rienne tumbled to the ground, then darkness swallowed her again.
She could still hear the dragon beside her and feel the heat of its body. Biting back the pain, she swung Maelstrom in a relentless dance of arcs and jabs, driving the dragon away from her assault. She followed its retreat, and after a few steps found herself outside the dragon's magical orb of darkness. The dragon looked nearly beaten, its wings pulled close to protect it, its head drooping and bloody, its belly still oozing thick blood that sizzled in puddles on the ground.
She advanced a few more steps, and the dragon backed away. Its head swung to one side, and Rienne saw what had attracted its attention: Jordhan, holding an axe with both hands in front of him, stepping toward Rienne and the dragon. She seized the moment of distraction and leaped at the dragon.
'Get down!' she screamed, as a gout of black acid sprayed from the dragon's mouth. Maelstrom bit deep into the dragon's throat, cutting off the spray of its breath and nearly taking the head off its long neck. The dragon fell to the ground, and Rienne ran to where Jordhan lay.
'Sovereign Host,' she said, 'let him be-'
'I'm alive,' Jordhan said. His voice was strained, though, and he drew a shuddering breath.
Rienne dropped to the ground beside him. He lay on his side, his axe forgotten a few feet away. Rienne pulled off the silk cloth that was wrapped around her waist and dabbed at a few splashes of viscous acid still burning into his chest and neck. The spray had hit him full on, and his body was covered with welts and open wounds.
'What were you thinking?' she said, taking his hand.
'I couldn't let you face it alone.' He smiled, but it changed to a grimace as he tried to sit up. He gave up and fell back to the ground.
'That was noble of you. And foolish. You're a dear friend, and the best pilot in House Lyrandar, but you're not a warrior.'
'A few more steps and that dragon would've had my axe buried in its shoulder.'
Rienne smiled, squeezed his hand, and decided not to point out that, the way he was holding the axe, he would have been lucky to get enough power in his swing to nick the dragon's scales.
CHAPTER 7
A knock at the door jolted Aunn out of a doze. Make it solid, he thought. I'm Kelas ir'Darren, and this is my office.
He ran a hand over his face to make sure he was who he thought he was. He cast his eyes around the office. Gaven's eyes were open again-perhaps awakened by the knock-but still vacant, staring at something other than the blank wall aross from him.
'Come in,' he said. Kelas was warm and polite, most of the time.
The door swung open and Cart's massive body filled the frame. The warforged hesitated for a moment, swinging his head to look at Aunn and Gaven as if making sure he'd found the right room.
'Come in, Cart,' Aunn said, standing up behind the desk.
Cart stepped into the room, which suddenly seemed much smaller, and gestured to a tall, handsome man behind him. 'This is Havrakhad,' Cart said. 'And this is-'
'Kelas ir'Darren,' Aunn said, stepping around the desk and extending his hand to the newcomer, who clasped it and bowed slightly.
Havrakhad was human, though he carried himself with a graceful elegance that reminded Aunn of the eladrin he'd met in the Towering Wood. His black hair was very long, cascading over his broad shoulders with a small topknot held in place by a silver ring. He wore a heavy, midnight blue cloak that hung almost to the floor, and beneath it a sky-blue shirt of gleaming silk, open in front to reveal a muscular, hairless chest. Breeches the color of his cloak were tucked into the tops of his boots. No weapon hung at his belt.
'I am honored to meet you,' he said to Aunn. His words had an accent Aunn couldn't place.
'Likewise,' Aunn said, uncertain how to respond. But Kelas was confident, assertive. 'Cart explained the nature of our problem?'
'Somewhat,' Havrakhad said, turning to face Gaven. 'I take it this is our patient?'
'Yes. And what techniques will you use to heal him?'
Havrakhad didn't look like a healer-more like a noble in exile, from some indeterminate foreign land.
'I will enter his mind and attempt to lead him out.'
