A Shade of Dragon 3(44)
I swallowed again. Penelope. This moment couldn’t be more sweet or sharp in my chest, and it made the whole world vivid and bright with new color, new dimension. My brother was alive, and it was my beautiful wife who had freed him herself. They had worked together to free the fire people from the dungeons so that they could join our fight, even as weak as they were… and they had the passion and the determination to agree to do so. I was so proud.
I doubled back to the front doors of the castle, giving my call to hold all fire until I had returned, and ascended the stairwell toward the grand hall I knew so well. It would be heartwrenching to allow it even the slightest hint of smoke damage… but one glance through a frosted window revealed that it had already been demolished by its own inhabitants. Tapestries hung in tatters on the wall, and royal crests on shields which dated back into long-gone centuries were only evident by the shadows they had left behind on the wallpaper. Shattered china and shards of crystals and gems were strewn, forgotten, crushed into the carpet. Ice dragons moved through the entryway, many of them loaded down with the extravagant memorabilia of my dynasty, not their own.
As my eyes turned over the scene within, they caught upon something which brightened the demolition of my childhood home beyond words, which made it fall away and become small: the profile of my younger brother, framed in the foyer, just beneath a chandelier, propelling another man in a coat toward the entrance. The youth came dancing down the stairs in fresh boots and coat, ready to fight.
Altair’s eyes turned and caught mine. They leapt and steadied, transitioning from relief to desperation as he moved rapidly toward the entrance… and so did I. He slipped from the foyer and closed the door behind him; we met in the arched entryway and embraced. I pounded Altair on the back with one hand, reassuring myself that he was real, warm and solid; my other hand ruffled his thick, dark hair, and then both shoved him back so that I could look at him more closely. Suspended outside the horrors of war for that moment—even while the entire city smoldered at our backs—we appraised each other as merrily as any two party-goers reunited.
He had lost weight. I could see that much. His eyes were still young, but his face… his face had weathered in his time in the dungeon.
“I thought you were dead,” I blurted.
Someone on the other side of the door twisted the lock, the bolt clicked into place, and I smiled without mirth. The ice dragons were terrified of us.
Altair let loose a belly laugh. “It’s good to see you too!” he replied. “I met your wife. She’s a precious thing. And there’s an uprising, apparently.”
I grinned. Altair’s loose, child-like nature was contagious. “Apparently,” I agreed. “We’d like to spare the castle. Come with us. Have the dungeons been emptied?”
“Of all but their rats,” Altair confirmed.
“Then join our front. We will drive the dragons from within, but they seem to be moving quickly enough without as much as a flame being hurled in their direction.”
“Aye, true enough indeed,” Altair said, his gaze turning to the city. “The snow is putting out the rest, it seems. So, to save our faces, we have cut off our noses, have we?” he asked.
“You say that as if this plan was a simple last resort,” I chastised him. “It was a careful attack, targeting the deepest weakness of the ice dragons.”
Just then, a window broke. One of the dragons, impatient, had unleashed a belt of fire into the main hall. “Hey!” I bellowed. “I said to hold your fire!”
Altair and I advanced together on the disobedient soldier, but it was already too late. Tension had broken somewhere in the ranks, and another window burst further away. Simultaneously, the castle’s front door opened, and out poured more ice dragons than could fit through the awning at once. They took flight, haphazard and desperate, some shifting in the air, clutching chests and satchels and fine garments in their talons or mouths.
“I suppose there is no stopping it now,” I commented, turning back to Altair.
“Have wiser words ever been spoken?”
I grimaced, remembering then what a smartass my little brother was. “I’ve got to get in there. Nell is in there somewhere.”
Altair gave my shoulder one slap. “Of course. You go. I’ll take over out here. Wait—how’s Mother?”
I glanced back at him and winced. I didn’t want to have to be the one to tell him about Father… but from the pained and hollow glint in his eyes, I didn’t have to. He already knew. Best to let it exist outside of words. That was enough.