CITY OF BRIDGES

30

An Unexpected Arrival

Leonie’s throat was getting raw with the constant shouting. It became too much of a chore to be heard over the rushing wind and beating wings, so the conversation waned. She still shuddered from time to time, thinking of what could have happened if she fell. The thrill for flying, for now at least, abandoned her.

Continuing east, they admired the ever-changing terrain below. The coastline became a vast stretch of rocky shoreline interspersed with white sandy beaches. Unanimously, the group decided to land for a rest and lunch. The first thing Leonie did after landing was donning her harness.

As they baked fresh fish over a large fire fuelled by driftwood, the twins revelled in the sand, lying on it and dragging themselves through it. Afterwards, they spent time harassing the numerous gulls, sending them squawking with indignation into the air. When they tired of that, the two young wyverns dived into the water, moving to and fro in a snake-like manner.

“I didn’t know they could swim,” Feiron said.

“It isn’t something I’ve seen before either.” Phil sat up, taking mental notes.

After lunch and a quick walk along the beach to stretch their legs, the trio mounted and continued their easterly course, passing yet another small skyland drifting further inland. After their recent experience, no one suggested a visit, especially so close to the coast.

By late evening they could see the city twinkling far below. Drawing closer, they began to look for a safe place to land. The area along the coast turned out to be too treacherous with cliffs and rocks. All they could find inland was dense jungle. Leonie knew of no area large or safe enough for the three wyverns to land near the city.

“What about the roads leading out of the city. Couldn’t we land there?” Phil called out.

“They’ll be patrolling them, and I’d rather not be seen.” They returned to circle high above the city centre after flown around the boundaries for one final look.

“We could try the pier by the tannery.” She pointed down to the south-eastern arm of the harbour. “It’s set away from everything because of the smell, and at this time of night should be deserted. I don’t think it’ll support the weight of a wyvern though.”

That is of no consequence. You forget we can hover. We need not touch the pier.

From out of the darkness a shadow rushed into view. There was a sickening crunch as a hideous creature slammed into Slana’s back. The creature’s shriek drowned Slana’s screech of pain.

The jolt snapped the tethers, throwing Leonie from the saddle. Time slowed. With arms flailing the air, she slipped sideways. Her fall arrested when her paw caught in the stirrup, jarring her leg and leaving her hanging upside-down below Slana’s chest. Her recovery was hampered by the green wyvern’s efforts to dislodge a giant, grey bug.

Slana snaked her head around, barely able to latch onto the monster’s body. Her teeth snagged a leg. Slana clenched her jaws and ripped them away. The limb cracked at a joint, pulling free from the body. Screeching in pain, the attacking l’ith sank its claws deeper into Slana’s back.

Desperate for a paw-hold, Leonie spied the broken leather strap flapping in the wind above her. Beyond was the bulk of the attacking creature. She froze at the sight of its rider, recognising her as the Jart’lekk assassin from the caverns. But, she’s dead? I killed her.

Evlin’s face broke into a manic grin. “You’ll not escape me so easily this time,” the assassin declared. Without hesitation she climbed off her ride and dropped onto the green wyvern’s thick neck. From there she reached down to fulfil her goal, but her prey was still out of reach.

Evlin slid off the wyvern’s neck to grapple bodily with her long sought-after nemesis. Her added weight strained the damaged leather, ripping the stirrup from the saddle. The pair tumbled towards the dark waters of Delta’s harbour.

Totally unprepared for the attack, the others were stunned by Slana’s cry of pain.

Dorn’s head snapped down in alarm. Her daughter was spiralling out of control, losing height rapidly. Recognising the l’ith, she instinctively sent a bolt of rage at the attacking monster only to find nothing there. The mind was empty! Recovering from her initial shock, a mental probe confirmed Dorn’s suspicions. The l’ith had no aura about her at all. It was undead.

Ye Gods! Quick Dorn. Leonie’s fallen. Phil mentally cried.

Faldo, go after Leonie. Dorn put a lot of force into her thought, knowing he’d want to prove himself and try to assist his sister. I will deal with this creature. Her son was no match for this undead l’ith. Brace yourself, she warned Philbert as she hurled herself after her daughter.

Philbert wedged himself into the saddle flares, using his years of working with horses and wyverns to cope with the sudden manoeuvres. He focused his mind to keep an eye both on Faldo and Slana’s progress, looking for any advantage to exploit.

In horror, he saw Leonie fall. At first, he thought she’d disappeared in the darkness, but then glimpsed her dangling upside down, being jostled by Slana’s movements. With disbelief he witnessed another woman leap from the l’ith’s back to Slana’s then, inconceivably, slide down to grapple with the half-rrell. Then the leather strap snapped. He lost sight of them when Dorn’s bulk blocked the view as she pivoted, intent on saving her daughter. All he could do now was watch and advise.

Feiron heard the loud screech a moment after the impact of the wyvern and the monster. He’d been looking down like everyone else, thinking of the nice, comfortable barrel awaiting him, and it took a couple of moments for him to grasp what was happening.

First, he saw one of those l’ith creatures clinging behind Slana’s shoulders. Then he realised the saddle was empty. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw a black-clad woman reaching for Leonie with a large dagger. They both suddenly dropped into the darkness.

“Leonie!” A wind gust ripped the cry into the night. Faldo dipped sharply and Feiron hung on grimly, wrapping his arms around any conceivable support. It was moments like these Feiron regretted not being able to communicate with wyverns.

“Finally, I have you.” Evlin jabbed swiftly at her nemesis’s heart.

Relying on instinct, Leonie barely managed to deflect Evlin’s wrist. The blade glowed malevolently. The thick jacket, proving little protection against it, tore open at the shoulder.

Everything happened so quickly, yet time seemed indeterminate. It was hard to think with the sea rushing up and the air screaming in her ears. Instinctively Leonie grabbed the assassin’s wrist, preventing another thrust. Even when her claws cut the assassin’s flesh, Leonie’s struggles proved futile. The assassin had amazing strength, far more than in the caves, and far more than any human should.

The twin-bladed dagger moved relentlessly closer to her heart.

Leonie twisted and lunged; latching her teeth onto the woman’s shoulder in the hope the pain would weaken her. There was no reaction. Her sharp teeth pierced the skin and clothing, yet there was no blood. In fact, Leonie could’ve sworn the assassin was laughing!

“Your craving for life is futile, but death will be no escape either,” Evlin yelled. “Once my master has finished with you, you’ll be mine to play with forever.”

Leonie saved her breath, redoubling her efforts, knowing the only reason she still breathed was because the both of them were spinning and tumbling through the air, struggling for any advantage.

Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Faldo swoop underneath. Instantly she realised he was manoeuvring below to attempt to catch them. The dagger will kill him if it strikes. She knew it in her bones. Leonie didn’t want his death on her conscience. She twisted, in vain; the two women landed with a thump behind his beating wings.

It will not harm me. Faldo responded to her thoughts, regaining altitude.

Something jarred Leonie’s spine on impact. She hissed in pain; then an idea blossomed.

With an evil glow behind her dark eyes, Evlin relentlessly pressed the dagger down. “When I’ve killed you, I’ll take the life from your friend and his pet,” she gloated. “My bug will be overjoyed with the taste of fresh meat. I believe wyvern is a delicacy to them.” The assassin now had the advantage by being on top, but before she could react, a warm jelly substance oozed around her, starting to envelope the attacker.

“Feiron. No!” Leonie immediately realised he was trying to save her. She had to do something quickly, certain that if the dagger touched either Faldo or Feiron they’d die instantly. Leonie couldn’t afford to release her two-pawed grip of the assassin’s arm. Claws and teeth didn’t seem to make any difference on this foul woman. She could see only one option to save her friends, but Feiron was hampering her. She turned her head and bit him. Hard.

He recoiled in surprise, letting go.

“Sorry, my friend.” With a heave, she rolled off Faldo’s back, dragging the assassin with her.

Dorn manoeuvred quickly above the attacking l’ith with the fury of a mother defending her young. Her vengeance was swift and sure. She sank her talons deeply into the central carapace and ripped the creature off her daughter’s back. She then swung her massive head down and gripped the neck with her teeth, slowly crushing the shell between her jaws.

The night air filled with hissing, screeching and cracking. Dorn’s claws raked the length of its body, shredding the wings and cracking the shell in several places. Though the foul creature didn’t ‘die’, it could no longer fly. Damaged wings beat uselessly. Thick globs of dark ichor seeped from the gaping hole in its neck.

Dorn spat out the foul-tasting stuff, watching the creature spiral out of control to smash into one of the rocky outcrops in the harbour. She then pivoted towards Slana far below, flying limply to the nearest land.

Slana. How badly are you injured? Dorn waited for a reply, but none came.

Wind screamed in Leonie’s ears. Borne out of desperation, she grasped at her idea. Her life depended on it. As they tumbled, she brought one leg up, then the other. Kicking and heaving with all her might, she timed her moment well.

In her initial struggles, Leonie had completely forgotten the harness from White Cliffs. It was only when she landed on Faldo’s back she painfully remembered. After the episode on the skyland, she had donned the harness as a precaution.

The moment the assassin’s grip loosened, Leonie put all her might into one final kick, then slipped a paw under her jacket and twisted the dial. A painful constriction around her ribs made her gasp as air squeezed out of her lungs. The harness did its work.

“Nooo,” Evlin cried as her nemesis slipped from her reach. Moving farther away from her. She thrashed and swung her arms madly in an effort to strike. The blade slashed through thin air.

In a pique of rage, Leonie sent a fireball after her. It was fascinating to observe it trailing her, then strike. Evlin flared brightly when it hit. Leonie watched, partly curious but relieved, as the assassin continued to plummet. A few seconds later, she saw the splash when the assassin’s body hit. The water foamed up, but soon faded. Amazingly, the fire continued but dimmed as the body sank to the depths of the harbour as a shadow cut of her view.

Faldo’s bulk loomed beneath her.

“You can have a seat as long as you don’t bite,” Feiron called out.

“With an invitation like that, how could I refuse? I can’t make any promises though.”

Are you going to stay on this time, furry one?

“That, I can promise. Stay right there, and I’ll come down.” She landed near the base of the tail and walked forwards, sitting awkwardly behind Feiron. “Sorry for biting you,” she said to him.

“It’s of no matter. Lucky I’m thick-skinned.”

“More like all-skin,” she chuckled, glancing down at the water, half expecting Evlin to appear.

Slana has landed. Come quick! Dorn’s message was urgent.

We come. Faldo angled down sharply.

“We’re going to land. Slana is down,” Leonie explained to Feiron. “How is she, Faldo?”

She is in great pain. Faldo skimmed above the waves, wingtips touching the water with each beat.

“Where are we headed?” Leonie tried to pinpoint their location. A row of rocky pinnacles flashed towards them; the smashed body of the l’ith could be seen draped across one. She recognised it as Fang Rock. Faldo momentarily tucked in his wings before they clipped one of the massive edifices as he dashed between them. Her paw shaking, Leonie pointed beyond. “Slana’s in the Plaza! Someone’s bound to have seen her land even at this time of night.”

Faldo flew directly to where his sister lay on the ground. Philbert had already dismounted to check the young wyvern’s wounds, while Dorn hovered anxiously nearby.

“Can she crawl behind that?” Leonie called out when within earshot. She pointed to a three-tiered platform close to the canal. “It might block her from view of the garrison, assuming they don’t already know she’s here.” Sadness wrenched her, watching the young female wyvern drag herself painfully along the paving; so agile in the air, now as mobile as a beached whale. “We may as well join her,” she said to Feiron and Faldo. “It isn’t exactly the way we’d planned it, but we’re home now.”

People are coming! Dorn’s thoughts cut in.

Leonie cast her eyes around. The group, mostly guards, gathered on the edge of the plaza. Soon they’d gain enough courage to approach.

Faldo dropped quickly to the flagstones to allow his passengers to alight. As the wyvern landed, Leonie dropped to the ground, suppressing a groan from the pain of bruised ribs and over-strained muscles. Feiron dripped out of the saddle, reaching for his bag of scales as he dismounted. He joined Leonie by Slana’s side.

Faldo launched immediately, lowering his head as he streaked towards the mob. The roar he emitted scared them senseless. As one, they scattered white-faced for the protection of the nearest buildings.

“So much for a quiet arrival,” Feiron muttered.

“How is she?” Leonie asked Phil.

“I think it’s more shock than serious wounding.” Phil straddled Slana’s back, pouring a few drops of liquid onto each of the puncture marks. “There’s muscle damage, painful but not lethal.”

You do not know the half of it, Slana grumbled.

“Slana,” Leonie called out. “There’ll be many guards here soon.”

Will they help?

“Only to your grave. You’ll have to leave. Now!” Leonie added.

I cannot fly.

“Then swim, damn it, but if you stay, they’ll slaughter you. These people don’t understand.”

You did.

“Remember I told you of the stories where you are evil creatures? These people believe those stories.”

The men are returning. There are more this time, and they have a leader. Dorn was hovering in the sky, but she dipped her wings and dive-bombed the approaching group. Some men broke ranks and retreated, regardless of shouted commands, but the bulk of them remained steadfast.

Bows appeared and the night was full of shafts hurtling into the darkness. Most were fired in haste and fear, easily missing the wyverns, but others came too close. Dorn banked sharply to the right, but Faldo, following his mother’s lead, hissed in pain as a shaft pierced his wing.

Singer. Prepare yourself. Dorn sent her intentions.

Phil spun to his companions to shout a warning. “You better hit the deck!”

Seconds later, the squad of guards collapsed, dropping weapons and clutching their heads. Blood trickling from some ears.

Leonie looked around, wondering why they had to take cover.

Feiron shared her look of confusion. “What’s happening?”

“Mind blast, but a restrained one,” Phil answered. “One of the other tricks the wyverns have.” He looked at them both quizzically. “Looks like you’re both immune. Fascinating as that is, we should leave. Those men will be in a foul mood when they recover.”

Phil turned to the young wyvern. “Slana, remember your training,” Phil stressed. “Something like this could happen at any time. I know it hurts, but while you’re feeling sorry for yourself, others are risking their lives trying to protect you. Get up. Now!”

I don’t like you anymore.

“I can live with that.”

Do not forget daughter, Dorn soothed. There is a skyland nearby where you can recover. It is not too far.

Very well, mother.

Phil slid off the young wyvern’s back as she slowly rose from the hard surface.

Slana faltered slightly, and both Leonie and Philbert staggered as echoes of her pain rippled across their minds.

Dorn, Phil called.

I am here. Her massive form whipped around the tiered platform and dropped swiftly to the ground. The tiles cracked as she crunched down. She swung her tail away from where it almost swiped Feiron. Apologies.

Phil leapt into the saddle. “I hope to see you both again,” he called as Dorn launched herself skyward.

After the two adventurers waved quickly, they moved to the shadows of the large dais used for public ceremonies.

Farewell from all of us. Dorn added as the three wyverns turned and winged their way back between the headlands. We hope you will be able to fly with us again.

“It’d be our pleasure, Dorn. Bye Faldo, Slana. Feiron sends his regards too,” Leonie said quietly, knowing the wyverns would hear her thoughts. The two adventurers ducked, bolting for the shadows of the dais.

“We aren’t out of trouble yet,” Feiron pointed out.

The guards helped each other to their feet; some still nursing their heads or wiping blood from their faces, others warily approached the area.

“I guess you’ll be heading home?”

Feiron nodded. “I better report to my mentor first. She’ll want to know about this straight away, and not second-hand in the morning.”

“There will be dozens of guard patrols out now, all fired up and looking for something to vent their anger. Perhaps a quick dip up the Grand canal to avoid them?”

“Sounds like a plan. What about you?”

“After what we’ve been through? I can manage these guys. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“How about we catch up in a few days?” she suggested.

“At the Heart?”

“Sunset.” Leonie nodded. “Good luck.” She climbed the stairs, looking back when she reached the top of the platform.

Feiron had shaped into the large serpent form he used at the chasm, the sack forming a bulge in his midsection. Keeping to the shadows, he slunk across the flagstones, disappearing the moment he entered the water. Leonie crouched and waited to see if the guards noticed either of them.

The men spread out below, their attention drawn to the south to where three dark shapes could be barely seen winging their way out to sea. One of the men, an officer as indicated by a sash across his right shoulder, looked down. He was standing in a splash of wyvern blood. The man jumped back with an oath and vigorously scraped his boots on the paving. Then he stopped, bending down to pick up something.

From the size and shape, Leonie guessed it was one of Slana’s scales. The men gathered around to see. Leonie took that as her cue to depart.

*

Dragging herself out of the harbour, Evlin collapsed on the cobbled road in front of a row of warehouses. Gradually she was able to focus and get her bearings, discovering she was in Portside. She must have lost her way, wandering through the forest of seaweed. Any other time the walk along the seabed may have been interesting, but not this night. This night the Enemy escaped.

Again, she had failed. Lothas would be displeased.

She scanned the harbour, but saw no wyverns, just drifting clouds and the silhouettes of ships.

‘Where were they? Surely they didn’t land in the city! And where was that damn flying lizard hiding?’ her thoughts raged.

The horizon had the faintest touch of light from the pending sunrise. Half the night had passed while she made her way to dry land! She’d need shelter soon. The city was silent for now, only the sound of the waves from the harbour lapping against the stonewall reached her ears, but there were bound to be guards on patrol, and various merchants and fishermen would be up and about… if not already.

The assassin fingered the dagger, secured in its sheath while she pondered her next step. Going back to Lothas empty-handed wasn’t an option she relished. She slowly stood up; the swaying of her weakened body reminded her of needed sustenance. Looking down, she was surprised her ruined legs could still support the weight; her clothes were in shreds and the ripped flesh beneath clearly visible. It was unnerving to witness so much damage. Tentatively, she touched her face, and could feel the previous wounds coming back. Once she renewed her life-force her body would recover quickly, all the damage would disappear and she’d be ready to deal with the Enemy and exact her revenge scratch for scratch. By the time she was finished with the half-Rrell bitch, there’d be no skin left.

Her jet-black eyes surveyed the nearby buildings. There would be plenty of sleeping citizens for her to choose from here, and she had a lot of frustration to vent having been thwarted once again. Evlin skulked down the street to the closest dwelling. She would feel much better soon. And then, then she would find the Enemy once and for all.

* * *