The Dragon Engine (17 page)

Jael nodded, lowering his head. “I thought I was going to die,” he said. Then his head came up, eyes burning bright. “And I watched Beetrax, greatest of heroes, stride from the forest and I thought it was all a dream! I could not believe what I was seeing! I knew, when I saw him, despite you being outnumbered, that you would end the evil.”

Jonti looked sideways. “You hear that, Beetrax? He knew we would end the evil.”

“I hear,” rumbled Beetrax, uneasily.

“Funny thing is,” said Talon, coughing to clear his throat, “and the truth as it lies, is that we had a bit of a debate.”

“You did?” said Jael.

“Shut up,” said Beetrax.

“Yes,” continued Talon. “You see,
I
scouted ahead. I saw you tied to that tree. Took this information back to the company. And we had a… discussion.”

“A discussion?” said Jael.

“Shut up,” growled Beetrax.

“Aye,” nodded Talon, turning his head sideways and staring hard at Beetrax. “We had a discussion.”

“What kind of discussion?”

“Well,” said Talon, as Beetrax sank lower, and lower, and lower in his blankets, “I reckoned you were a handy-looking lad, and I said that if we rescued you, you'd obviously be injured; but
Beetrax
agreed that if we rescued you, it would be amazing, and that he'd train you up as a warrior with the axe. So you could protect yourself in the future. Isn't that right, Beetrax?”

“Tha's right,” mumbled Beetrax. “Protect himself.”

“So the minute you feel able, you just give Beetrax the nod. And Beetrax here, fucking amazing hero that he is, will teach you everything you need to know about chopping off bad people's heads.”

“That's amazing,” beamed Jael, eyes shining in wonder.

“Amazing,” said Talon, grinning. “You hear that, Beetrax? The lad thinks it's amazing.”

“I heard,” said Beetrax.

Jael leapt forward, and threw his arms around Beetrax, pushing his head into the big man's shoulder. “Thank you, Beetrax. Thank you so much! You don't know what this means to me. It is…
everything
!”

“That's all right, lad,” said Beetrax, pushing the youth away. “Now… you just go and sit down over there, and eat your food, like. There's a good lad. I think I'm going to try and get some sleep. That climb did me in, and I know it's only going to get harder.”

T
alon sat on a boulder
, staring up at the stars. Sakora stepped out into the cold moonlight, and crossed to him. She was smiling as she looked up, her almost painfully regal face, with its high cheekbones, highlighted in starlight like finely chiselled stone.

“You look beautiful tonight, my lady,” came Talon's musical voice.

She ran a hand back through her long, brown hair, and dazzled him with a shrug. “You are biased, I think, Talon.”

“Not so. I see every creature as they really are, for I am not prejudiced against the male or the female form; to me, they are both equally stunning, and to me, everybody has a gift they can offer.”

“I have a question.” She settled down, cross-legged on a flat rock above the snow, and looked up at Talon on his pinnacle.

“For me? Oooh, I am intrigued. Shoot.”

“Why did you come?”

“That's easy. The wealth, the glamour, the oiled-up young men begging to hear my story afterwards…”

“No, really, Tal. Why?”

Talon stared up at the stars, and rolled his head, stretching out his neck muscles. Then he looked at Sakora and grinned. He shrugged. “Who knows?”

“You had a lover? Back in Vagan?”

The smile went a little crooked at the corners of Talon's mouth. “Yes,” he said, voice wooden.

“A flash in the pan, a one-night stand, or something more… serious?”

“We had been together a while,” said Talon, voice gentle.

“And yet you were willing to leave him?”

“He left me.”

“For another?”

Talon paused, then jumped down from the rock. He sighed. “Yes. For another. Don't they always leave? Don't they always find something more exciting, younger, suppler, harder, and more dirty?” He shrugged. Tears glistened in his eyes. “I loved him, Sakora. This time, it was real. I loved him to the bottom of my heart; to my beating, acid core. But he betrayed me. He was seeing another.”

“You found out?”

“How could I not? I read people well. He wore the fresh lust on his sleeve like a new perfume.”

“So what did you do?”

“I was crying. I was drunk. I took my bow, and a long knife, and I followed him through the streets. Watched him climb white marble steps, and knock on the door. His new lover was young, beautiful, his skin oiled and golden, his stench of flowers reaching me even across the street. He had golden curls. Bright blue eyes. More like a woman than a fucking man. More like a woman…”

“What did you do?”

“I crept around the back of the house, climbed up to the third floor. I peered in. They were kissing on the bed, giggling like children. Hatred swamped me. Truly, I saw fucking red; I saw them strung out, their skin peeled by a razor blade wielded by my hands. I watched them for a while, the bastards, then I leapt across the balcony, slipped the lock on the bedroom window next door, and dropped to the thick, soft carpet.”

“Gods, Talon, what did you do?”

“I padded through that rich bastard's house, my mind set on murder. They want to fuck together? Well, they can die together. I'll fuck them with my knife. A single blow, pinning them together forever. I came to the door, pushed it open. Candlelight spilled across rich tapestries. They were naked now, holding one another's cocks. This was my man, my lover, my best friend. Holding another man's cock, then dipping his head and sucking another cunt's cock. I moved forward, padding oh-so silently. My blade was in my hand, and I stood beside them, and they were so entranced, so lost in the moment they did not even see me. They were lost in the moment. Like dogs.” He looked at Sakora, then. Tears had rolled down his cheeks, and glistened in slick trails under the starlight.

“You killed them?”

“I turned, and I left the room. I went back to my house, packed a bag with essential belongings, poured lantern oil across my bed, and set the whole fucking place alight. I believe it took three days until the fire was finally extinguished. It could be seen from all four quadrants of Vagan.”

Sakora looked at him, pale in the moonlight, his hair a shimmering fan. She smiled.

“I understand,” she said.

“You do?”

“It doesn't always have to end in murder. Sometimes, we can just walk away.”

“Like now?”

“I am uneasy,” confessed Sakora. “I believe this… quest is foolhardy.”

“And yet we both agreed to come.”

“We did.”

“So, what's the solution? To return, head back south, before we cross the Ice Bridges of Sakaroth?”

Sakora shrugged, a delicate gesture. “I feel for Jonti. I believe I want to help, no matter how slim the possibility.”

“And it is slim indeed.”

“Beetrax's quest is based on greed, not saving the woman we all love.”

“And yet it could produce the same outcome.”

“Possibly. Hopefully. Although I'll believe it when I see it.”

Talon sat next to Sakora, snuggling in close. They held each other for a while, sharing body warmth as the cool, random breezes of the chilled mountain summit drifted around them.

Talon wrapped his arms tight around Sakora, and they hugged.

After a few minutes, he pulled away a little, and stared into her face.

“Are you well?”

“I am very well.”

“You enjoy my hugs?”

“Very much.”

“Good. I enjoy hugging you.”

“Is this where you ask for sex? Because if you do, you might find me compliant.” She smiled, a warm smile under cold stars.

Talon put his head on her shoulder. “Not tonight, my dear. Tonight… well, tonight is a night about mourning.”

And they sat under the stars, and watched the universe slowly spin by.

S
unlight gleamed
from the blanket of white snow, as they headed down from the shelter onto a steep slope which led from the mountain summit. No more snow had fallen, and the air was cold and crisp, with a biting wind which blew in from the north, stirring the powdered surface. High above, against a pale blue vista, an eagle dropped into a glide and rode the thermals, circling slowly.

“This way,” said Dake, and as they crossed the plateau, the world opened up into one of the most stunning views any of them had ever seen. The Karamakkos. The Teeth of the World. They stretched away, filling the horizon, a seeming infinity of peaks extending off northwards, glinting with ice and snow, threatening with deep chasms and towering violence. The silence to this vast backdrop was terrifying. It was holy.

They trudged through snow, Dake leading the way.

Jael shuffled alongside Beetrax, who had seemed to acclimatise a little to the strenuous effort of travelling through snow, and was now taking long, loping strides, his axe strapped to his pack on his back, his furry hat, with drooping ear covers, seeming to merge with his beard and turn him into a ginger and brown bear.

“Where are we actually going, Beetrax?”

The axeman glanced down at the youth. “Your face is looking better. The swelling is nearly gone.”

“Yes, but it's still tender.”

“That will fix, lad. It'll fix. Well. We're heading for the Ice Bridges of Sakaroth.”

“And what are those?”

Beetrax gave a nod, ahead, to the vast wilderness of jagged peaks ranged before them, staggering ahead like a thousand massive black and grey teeth. “You see that? That vast playground is known as the Karamakkos. But access is severely limited. There are no roads, no easy pathways. If you are an expert with ropes and climbing up vertical sheets of ice, you can find yourself a path; but for us mere mortals, we need a bridge. Sakaroth is the next peak, but a vast chasm lies between Talkanoth and Sakaroth – impassable. Except for a few months of the year, when a bizarre natural occurrence of various mineral streams from overhead ledges, wind from various caves, and other shit I no doubt would never understand, create these ice bridges that cross the chasm. They are unstable, and more slippery than a bent whore in your wallet, but they will provide us passage.”

“Where do they lead? What is it we seek?”

The words
treasure hunt
came to Beetrax's lips, but he pushed them aside, and coughed, and said, “You see Jonti over there? She is ill. We are seeking a cure for her.”

“A noble quest, then!” beamed Jael, innocent face lighting up with brightness and honesty. “This is like many stories we read at school, of heroes and quests and saving the land. It is an honour to be caught up in such a quest, Beetrax!”

“Er. Sure.” Beetrax turned away.

They travelled through morning, losing height from the summit of Talkanoth. Dake picked a superb route, across fields of steep snow and boulders, and high walls reared around them once more as they came to the Fingers – twin pillars of perfectly smooth stone, each pillar maybe fifty or sixty feet in height and naturally formed.

They stopped here, and had a brief lunch, sitting on their packs. Jael stared between the Fingers, to where a flat, rocky path stretched away between vertical walls of jagged black. At the far end, Jael could see, by squinting, that something glittered.

Snow started to drift down, gentle puffy flakes.

“This place is beautiful,” said Jael, voice soft. “I never realised such a world existed!”

“You've never been in the mountains before, Jael?” asked Jonti, moving over to stand beside him.

“I'd… heard stories. And even though you could see the peaks from my village, nobody chose to explore. I suppose day-to-day life was hard enough, just cutting wood for fires, and growing food to survive.”

Jonti nodded. “The Karamakkos, the White Lion Mountains, the Mountains of Skarandos where the Pass of Splintered Bones cuts through; they are all incredibly beautiful, but also, without exception, incredibly deadly. These are not places for the reckless. The Mountain – she does not take prisoners.”

Jael gave a little shiver. “I hear you,” he whispered. Then changed the subject. “Beetrax said you were ill, and our quest is to save you?”

“He did, did he?” Jonti narrowed her eyes, and glanced over to where Beetrax's booming laughter rolled between the Fingers.

Jael sensed her annoyance. “Was it supposed to be a secret? All I wanted to say was that I was glad to come along; glad to be part of a quest for such a worthwhile cause. I am happy to help, that is all.”

“That's all right, Jael. And thank you for your sentiments. It's just… Beetrax is renowned for having a big flapping mouth. I bet that's something the saga poets don't sing about when they sit round the fire, begging for their supper?”

Suddenly, their conversation was broken by a distant howl; the same long, wavering sound which had haunted them back at the barracks. The note held, a stuttering whine, and then died to oblivion silence.

Beetrax shivered. They all looked at one another.

“Believe me now?” said Beetrax, quietly.

“I think we should move out,” said Dake, voice hard.

“I reckon that was by the shelter.”

Beetrax shook his head. “Too far. It was closer.”

“Not good.”

They walked between the Fingers, onto the wide rocky path, and increased their pace. Beetrax loosened his axe from his pack, and carried it resting against one shoulder. The walls to either side, maybe two thousand feet in height, were sheer and jagged, unforgiving; they sported long, spear-like icicles and a cold wind oozed mournfully down the narrow crevasse. Jael squinted again at the glittering, and as their boots kicked rocks, crunched ice, and they progressed through the narrow channel, so he realised what he could see was snow glinting from a dazzling array of ice.