“This is not over between us,” Fala snarled over her shoulder.
“Come back when you grow up,” Kahg told her.
On deck, his humans were celebrating, laughing at the dragon’s humiliation and jeering across the water at Raegar. The human, Skylan, was urging Kahg on, urging the dragon to attack.
The other humans in the ogre ship were in no danger; they were putting more and more water between their ship and Aelon’s so-called Triumph.
The Dragon Kahg considered his options.
Skylan stood on the deck of the Venjekar, his sword in hand, thrilled with the thought of avenging himself on his treacherous cousin. Raegar had counted on the strength of his dragon to destroy his enemies. He had never imagined that she could be defeated, or that his men would turn on him. Raegar was out here on the sea alone, with a ship full of demoralized troops. The fearful sight of the Dragon Kahg bearing down on them would unnerve them further.
Behind him, the godlord’s ship, at the sight of the fire dragon, had slowed, keeping well out of the way. The vague outlines of a plan formed in Skylan’s mind. He would send Kahg to destroy Raegar’s ship in full view of the ogres. After that, Skylan would sail in triumph back to the ogres. He would offer them friendship while the Dragon Kahg circled overhead, letting them know what would happen to them if they declined. He would ask them to take Keeper’s body, fulfilling his vow to his friend. Then he would boldly demand that they escort him safely to the ogre homeland.
“I will make up some reason,” he said, explaining his plan to Aylaen. “I will tell them I’ve come to talk peace with their godlords. We will find the Vektan Torque and steal it back. But first”-Skylan gripped his sword-“I will settle my score with Raegar.”
He realized suddenly that the Venjekar was slowing.
“What is the dragon doing?” Skylan asked angrily. “Tell Kahg to maintain course! We’re going to fight-”
He saw the expression on Aylaen’s face. “Now what’s wrong?”
“The Dragon Kahg won’t fight,” said Aylaen. “He says we are in no danger and he won’t risk the Vektia spiritbone for some petty human desire for vengeance.”
The Venjekar was turning, maneuvering through the water.
“Kahg says we are going home.”
Aylaen’s eyes glistened with sudden tears. She lowered her head, averted her face.
“No!” Skylan cried. “He can’t do that! We have a chance…”
His words died. He looked at Sigurd’s ship, sailing north, up the coastline. Heading home. Skylan thought of his homeland. He thought of his father, the fields and the forests, fishing in the clear bright streams, playing games on the frozen lake. To bask in the warmth of a fire on a snow-silent night. To hear the laughter of his people as they gathered together in the Hall.
The two threads of his wyrd, one long, the other cut short. He remembered his dream. The serpents of Oran, the armies of Oran were marching to destroy his people.
Skylan would meet up with Sigurd, the two ships would sail home. Then he would wed Aylaen and she would be Kai Priestess. He would be Chief of Chiefs and this time he would try to be a wise and worthy chief. He would lead the Vindrasi in their fight against the armies of Aelon and when Aelon had been defeated, Skylan would raise a mighty army, command many dragonships that would sail to the ogre lands and beyond to find the Vektia spiritbones.
“We are going home,” said Skylan. His spirit seemed to soar over the waves, carrying him to Vindraholm.
CHAPTER 9
Treia, forgotten in the excitement, had fled down into the hold. Frustrated and upset, fearful Skylan would kill her, she paced restlessly, sometimes stopping to watch what was going on through a chink in the wooden planking. She had rummaged through the supplies of food and weapons she herself had provided to the Torgun warriors as part of a plot to lure them to their deaths until she found a knife, which she used to whittle away at the chink until she had a good view of Raegar’s ship-though with her poor eyesight, all she could see was a smudge on the ocean.
And all she could think about was Raegar.
Was he thinking of her? Did he know she was on board the ship? Had he come to rescue her? Or had he come to accuse her for summoning the dragon that had destroyed his city and his hopes and dreams?
“It was not my fault, my darling,” she whispered, restlessly twisting the fingers of her cold hands as she paced the deck. “I was tricked. Hevis tricked me into summoning the dragon. Hevis knew I wouldn’t be able to control it. This is his doing.”
Treia tried to ignore the fact that she had not given Hevis his sacrifice. The god had demanded that she kill someone dear to her. In return, he would grant her the power to summon the Vektia dragon. Unfortunately, Treia’s choice of victims were sadly limited. She hated her stepfather, despised her mother, and intensely disliked all of her kindred clan. That narrowed her selection to two people: her lover, Raegar, and her sister, Aylaen. At that point, the choice was easy.
Treia loved Raegar with a soul-consuming passion. She would have sacrificed herself before him. Treia had loved Aylaen because Aylaen was the only person who loved her. Now that love was gone, and Treia hated her sister. Aylaen had been marked for death and she had perversely gone on living, ruining Treia’s deal with Hevis.
“Except that Hevis never truly had any power to give,” Treia muttered bitterly. “He gave me the ability to summon one of the Vektia dragons, when all the time he knew that in order to control one, I had to summon all five. He tricked me! None of this was my fault. Yet I am the one being made to suffer.”
Treia stared longingly through the hole in the hull at her lover’s war galley and cursed the gods who had given her such poor eyesight. The ship was a fuzzy, wood-colored blur. By squinting, she thought she could discern Raegar at the prow near the head of the dragon. She could tell it was him because he was taller by far than the people of Sinaria. Being Vindrasi, he was fair-complected, whereas the Sinarians were brown-skinned. And Raegar was bald, his head shaved in the manner of the priests, and he was wearing armor-both his bald head and his armor gleamed in Aelon’s blessed light.
Treia heard Skylan give the order for the Venjekar to chase and attack the war galley. Her lip curled. He was bluffing. He would never risk his own precious skin, nor that of his darling Aylaen. He wouldn’t risk harming the Vektia spiritbone, now that he had one in his possession.
She watched Raegar summon his Dragon Fala, sending her to slay Skylan and all the rest of the fools, and her heart thrilled. That would be an end to her ordeal. She would be reunited with her lover. Watching Raegar stroking the neck of the carved dragon that graced the prow of the war galley, Treia couldn’t help but wonder why Raegar had kept secret the fact that a dragon had come to serve him.
“If he truly loved me, he would have told me…”
The thought pained her. As a Bone Priestess who had summoned dragons before, she could have given him advice.
Such as never summon a fire dragon over water.
Treia watched in agony as the fire dragon burst into life above the war galley and watched with gloomy foreboding as the young dragon flew toward the Venjekar. Treia could almost hear the Dragon Kahg chuckling as the wet and demoralized young dragon flew away.
What now? Fear clutched Treia. Raegar was attempting to quell the panic on board his ship and hoist the sail. From the deck above, she could hear Skylan ordering the dragon to proceed with the attack.
Treia smiled in satisfaction. She could always count on Skylan’s stupidity and his arrogance. Raegar and his soldiers would make short work of Skylan.
And then the ship lurched beneath Treia’s feet. The Venjekar slowed and began to change course.
“No!” Treia gasped, as she caught sight of Raegar’s ship dwindling in the distance.
“We are going home.” Aylaen’s voice came down from above, echoed hatefully in the shadows of the hold.
Treia picked up the knife.
The Dragon Kahg was not about to make the same mistake Fala had made. He left the sailing of the Venjekar to the humans aboard the ship. He remained with the Venjekar in spirit-his red eye was a fiery slit in the dragonhead prow. He left his physical body, returning his spirit to the spirit bone.
The wind blew steadily. The sea was unsettled, lead-colored, and restless. Oily waves slapped the hull from all directions, tossing salt spray over the bow. Skylan shouted at Farinn to help him and together they raised the Venjekar’s sail, while Acronis took the tiller.
The sail flapped and then filled. The wind caught the Venjekar and carried the ship through the waves and Skylan breathed easier. He looked back at the ogre ship. They had caught the same wind and were chasing after him. He would win this race; his ship was lighter and more maneuverable, and he was a better sailor. Still he didn’t like to see that triangular sail dogging him.
“Why don’t they give up the chase and go home?” Skylan wondered aloud, annoyed.
“Because they’ll never make it home,” said Acronis. He pointed at the ogre vessel. “Their ship is taking on water. It’s sinking beneath their feet. It’s not us they want. It’s our ship.”
“By Torval, you’re right!” Skylan said, studying the ogre ship.