Why is the sea better than a lake that is smaller but closer?
'Because it's called the Endless Sea for a reason. Because there aren't any eyries. You can fly and keep on going and they'll have to give up and go home, and when they come back they'll never be able to find you.' And you can float on the surface and I can stay on your back and no one needs to drown or be taken by the dragon- riders.
It is far away, is it not, Kemir? Very far.
That was probably true. He didn't know where they were any more. 'I don't know.' He glanced over his shoulder, looking for the pursuit. Snow was leaving a trail of smoke in the air behind her. No, not smoke, steam. When he touched the scales of her back with his bare skin, he yelped. They were hot, painfully hot. Days, probably.
I do not know if I can fly for days at this speed.
'You flew that far when we crossed the Worldspine.' Not at this speed though.
Nor was I poisoned.
Self-pity? Kemir felt his anger return, and this time it was all his own. 'No, but you weren't so fat with people you weren't supposed to eat either. You brought this on yourself. Now you can get out of it.'
They challenged me, Kemir. Two more scorpion bolts flew past Snow in quick succession. A third glanced off her scales. She turned again, changing course to fly parallel to the Worldspine. Kemir tried to work out whether they were going the right way. 'The last time we flew towards the sea, we kept the mountains on the right.' Snow had turned so they were on her left.
Yes, Kemir. And we have crossed the mountains now.
He tried to work out whether that made a difference. He didn't get very far before Snow suddenly dropped out of the sky and plunged towards the ground. Kemir screamed, partly in surprise, partly from real fear that Snow had suddenly succumbed to the poisoned bolts.
I do not feel the poison yet, Kemir. Her thoughts were tinged with amusement. If it is to be the sea then I must fly low to weave among the hills. The dragons that follow us are fully grown. They are stronger and faster than me, but I am more agile. We must use that to our advantage.
We. Snow had never said we before. Despite everything, despite the burned town, despite even Nadira, a warm glow bloomed in the pit of Kemir's stomach. We. It might have been his breakfast trying to escape as Snow pitched into free fall. Or it might have been pride.
33
Luck.
Prince Sakabian couldn't believe what he was seeing. He hadn't expected to find them. He was high up on the edge of the Purple Spur, cruising along the edge of the Great Cliff with the jagged peaks of the Spur to one side and the great grey emptiness of the Plains of Ancestors far, far below on the other. He hadn't expected any trouble at all. And yet there they were, far off and high over the desert plains. Eight of them. Six hunters and two war- dragons. The air was so clear and dry that even from this distance he could make out what they were. He looked over his right shoulder. Twenty-five war-dragons filled the air behind him, stretched out in a line. On their backs were nearly a hundred dragon-knights. They had scorpions and fire-bombs. Enough to start a war. The Red Riders were supposed to be far away, deep in the Worldspine harassing Valmeyan. Sakabian was in the wrong place and everyone knew it. He was here to watch the northern edges of the Spur, keeping an eye on the speaker's borders and the alchemists' precious convoys travelling along the Evenspire Road.
And yet there they were. Eight dragons, mostly hunters. They hadn't come from Evenspire and that only left one thing. The Red Riders weren't in the Worldspine after all. They were here.
Luck.
That's what Knight-Marshal Aktark would say. That's what everyone would say. No matter that the Red Riders had struck here before. No matter that another dozen wagons from the secret mountain strongholds of the alchemists were on their way. Luck, they would say. No one would give him the credit. No one would praise his astute tactical acumen, his precise prediction of where the Red Riders would strike again. They would just say it was luck.
So be it. The queen – he still couldn't help but think of her as his queen, even now – the queen would see a victory. He doubted she would care how it was won.
The queen. Even thinking about her made him stir. Aunt Zafir. He could hardly hear her name without thinking of her naked. Without seeing her in his mind, slowly slipping out of the darkness and into his bed, arching her back as he spread her legs. Unwed. Her lover crippled and a traitor. You could see the hunger in her. She was ripe, ripe to be ploughed by any prince who brought her a victory, especially a prince of her own blood. He let that thought spur him on even as a new possibility presented itself. Back home in the Pinnacles, his father and Queen Zafir's sister were already manoeuvring against each other to take her crown. The family was tearing itself in half again. He could stop that. Yes. Perhaps a victory here could win him a crown as well. He'd be quite happy enough to help himself to Zafir's little sister and share a throne with her as long as he got a taste of the bigger sister too… The two sides of the family united again. A new lover, one safe and bound by blood. Two birds killed with a single stone. Yes…
He wrenched his thoughts away from the taste of Zafir's skin on his tongue. The battle had to be won first. There was little point trying to hide his approach. They were in open skies and clear air and if the other riders hadn't seen him already, they certainly would as soon as he broke away from the cover of the Great Cliff. It would be a chase. In a chase, a war-dragon always beat a hunter. The six hunters might as well give up now. At worst, if he was blisteringly stupid, the two war-dragons might get away; but that would still give him the first and the biggest victory that Zafir had seen for a long time. He would take it to her and bow, and her eyes would sparkle at the understanding of his lust.
Ripe to be ploughed. He shifted in his saddle, trying to get comfortable.
The dragon beneath him surged through the air and shrieked, echoing the desire in his thoughts. Behind him his riders fell into formation, fanning out to the left and the right, above and below, with Sakabian at the point.
Like a spear to be plunged into my enemy's heart. The Red Riders had seen him. Their hunters were fleeing, losing height and pulling away for now, but he didn't let that worry him. Deep in the mountains they might have found a place to hide, but here in the barrens there was nothing. No cliffs, no canyons, no crevasses, no great rivers, no titanic forests. A sheer wall almost a mile high marked the start of the deep mountains and they were far too low to find an escape route there. The Silver River valley was half a day of flying away. No, there was nothing for them. He had half a mile of height over them, and height could become speed whenever he wanted. They were doomed. The only shelter was in the Spur, and Sakabian was in the way. Their cries echoed through the air. They might as well have been cries of despair.
A part of him hoped they'd fly north. That was worth a try. They could make a dash for Evenspire and the shelter of the treacherous Queen Almiri and her riders. For the hunters that was hopeless. Evenspire was simply too far away. They would never reach it before Sakabian was on them. For the two war-dragons, though, if they were strong…
And if they do then I will take their hunters and I will follow them to Almiri's eyrie, and I will loose my scorpions and rain down my bombs, for then there will be no doubt that we are at war… That was what the speaker wanted. An excuse. Anyone could see it. Yes, I could give her that too.
But they did the more obvious thing. They turned west and sprinted for the Silver River and the Worldspine from which it came. Sakabian changed his course, trying to be patient, knowing that the dragons were ultimately his. Their only real hope was to reach the mountains, so he kept in their way, blocking them off, drifting away from the Great Cliff as he herded them further north and west, slowly trading his own height for the distance between them. Eventually the hunters would tire and then even the mountains would be useless to them. Then he would take them.
If I haven't taken them already.
