The Dragon's Breath (Aboard the Great Iron Horse Book 3) Read online

  With the dragon distracted, Dane leapt back to his feet. He took another swing, aimed directly at the site of the first injury. He struck a solid blow and the dragon forgot everything else. The flames vanished as the beast let out a wail. Dane swung again, but the dragon twisted aside, dodging the blow. As the hammer went wide, the beast lunged at him, driving its horned forehead into Dane’s chest. The king went sprawling, and the dragon closed in for the kill.

  Kale dropped the tray and drove the tip of his sword between the scales on the dragon’s belly. The steel rang as it scraped through the scales, piercing the dragon’s flesh. The beast snarled and turned, glaring at him. Kale withdrew the sword from the wound with a spray of blood. Before he could strike a second time, the dragon’s tail whipped around and smashed into him with the momentum of a tree rolling downhill. The attack swept Kale off his feet. He tumbled across the floor and his sword clattered across the stones.

  The dragon spun around to finish the king and found Dane back on his feet. Dane leapt forward, bringing his hammer down with both hands on top of the dragon’s skull. There was a loud crack! that seemed to echo back and forth between the stone walls. The dragon wavered. It shook its head, snorted, took a step backwards, and then collapsed. Dane leapt to the safety of the floor as the dragon fell, crushing the table under its weight. He turned to help Kale to his feet.

  “Well done,” Dane said, clapping Kale on the back. “She’s finished.”

  Dane’s chest rose and fell, and beads of perspiration lined his forehead. He turned to look at the rest of the group and found them all staring at him. “Are you all unharmed?” He said. “My apologies... this happens from time to time. The dragons are always looking for a new way into the tunnels. We must remain ever vigilant.”

  They heard a clamor down the tunnel, and a moment later, a group of knights in full armor came charging into the room. They spread out around the dragon’s carcass with swords and spears at the ready. Dane dropped his hammer back into the ring on his belt and shook his head.

  “Nice armor, gentlemen,” he said with a smirk. “Maybe next time you’ll get it on fast enough to use it.” He turned, gazing past the dragon and up into the tunnel where it had emerged. “Clean this mess,” he said. “And guard the tunnel until we can blow it up. Get the meat to the butcher. Tonight, we feast.”

  Dane turned to Kale. “I hope you’ll be my guest of honor. It’ll give the rest of these whelps a chance to see a real hero.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Kale said with a grin. He didn’t seem to notice the dour looks of Dane’s men.

  Dane stepped around the dragon and ushered the group into the tunnel. He began explaining how this part of Dragonwall had been carved out of the mountain by his ancestors. The king was so nonchalant, so cavalier about all that had just happened, that it left the others somewhat overwhelmed. It took a moment for them to process the fact that yes, Dane had just killed a dragon with a hammer, and now he was inviting them to a feast, as if it was nothing unusual at all. Dane didn’t seem to notice this. He proceeded with his story, and was just finishing as they entered another large room.

  This room had a window-like opening facing out into the center of the mountain, and a pair of tracks running across the ceiling. Dane pulled on a long metal switch that was protruding from the wall, and they heard grinding gears and rattling chains. After a few seconds, a wooden platform floated into the room. It hung suspended from the overhead tracks by a length of pipe through its center, and a series of iron chains attached to the outer perimter. As it rattled to a stop, two more glided in behind it.

  “There is something I want you to see,” Dane said, stepping onto the first platform. “I promise it won’t take long, and I think it will greatly help you understand our situation. Then, we can discuss this business proposition of yours.”

  He motioned for the others to join him on the platforms. They hesitated, and he grinned.

  “I assure you, the trolleys are completely safe. We transport ore and heavy machinery on these platforms. They can easily haul several thousand pounds. You won’t be in any danger... provided you hang on, of course.”

  They didn’t seem quite convinced, but once Kale, Micah, River, and Socrates had joined Dane on the first platform, the others decided it would be safe enough. The rest of the group divided themselves up between the last two trolleys. Dane pulled the lever again, and the platforms began to move. With a series of loud screeches and grinding noises, they slid out of the room and found themselves riding along the rim of a cliff on the inside of the mountain. They were one hundred feet in the air, flying directly over the lava pit. The track swung them around in a sudden sharp curve, and as the first platform swooped around the cliff, River’s guts fell out. That was how it felt, at any rate. Judging by the groans and gasps she heard behind her, she wasn’t the only one.

  “You can see the forges,” Dane said, pointing down. “And if you look ahead, you’ll see how the trolley system transports ore and finished parts up and down the mountain. It’s all powered by the Chronoforge, of course.”

  The platforms circled around the mountain, climbing the wall, slipping in and out of the tunnels and rooms lining the interior, occasionally flashing past sections of the Chronoforge itself. All of this happened with such speed that it was nearly impossible to take in any details about the machine, or the workers inside. At last, Dane reached out and caught a switch that River hadn’t even seen approaching in the darkness. The trolleys came to a slow stop and Dane ordered everyone out.

  They found themselves standing in a narrow tunnel with an open doorway leading into a large, well-lit room. Dane ushered them forward. The room they entered was cavernous in size, and filled with a vast assortment of machines, steam engines, and miles of pipes running in and out of the walls, some stretching up to the domed roof nearly than thirty feet in the air, where a glass skylight funneled sunshine down from above. The skylight shone down over long rows of tables, workbenches, and shelves where dozens of workers hurried to load finished bits of machinery and tools onto automated tracks that vanished into adjoining rooms.

  “These are my engineers,” Dane said with a sweeping gesture. “This is where we build the steam engines, the pumps, and everything else you’ve seen here.”

  “What’s it all for?” Micah said, his eyes wide.

  “For the kingdom, of course,” said Dane. “At Dragonwatch, our job isn’t just to fend off the dragons. We also make sure the thousands of civilians in Danaise have the tools they need to survive. We build wagons, forges, even the nails and hinges they use to build their homes and furniture. Right now, some of my engineers are designing farm equipment that will make working the land easier and safer. We distribute goods twice a year, at the spring equinox and then at the Harvest Festival in autumn.

  “And it’s all powered by the Chronoforge? Your rail system, your engines, your mechanized suits?”

  “Everything, even the pumps we use to deliver fresh water to nearby cities.”

  “Do you provide water to Stormwatch?”

  “Of course. We use a desalination process to provide fresh water to all the towns and villages within a hundred miles. We have to, or the effects of the dragon’s breath would poison their minds.”

  “Fenn didn’t mention that.”

  “I’m not surprised. I suppose he also didn’t tell you we mine the fuel that runs his street lamps, or that we build and maintain not only his carriages, but also the weapons and tools his town uses.”

  “I don’t mean to offend,” said Socrates, “but your brother told us you allow the dragons to attack Stormwatch unchallenged. He claims that you hide in the safety of Dragonwall; that you don’t care about the safety of your subjects.”

  “No doubt,” said Dane, clenching his jaw. “Did my brother also tell you that we are his only protection from the dragons? Did he tell you that my men sacrifice their lives regularly to keep his town safe? No, I suppose he didn’t. I’m sure he also didn’t t
ell you that almost every day he sends a messenger here to complain about the dragon, insisting that I send more men even though he knows they won’t survive.”

  “Like Elberone?” said Micah.

  “Regrettably, yes. It would take fifty men to slay the black dragon, if we could even find him. If I pulled that many fighters away from Dragonwall, we would lose the mountain in one night. Everything we have accomplished would be gone. You see, this is how my brother continues to foment rebellion. He knows that by riling up the people against me, by forcing me to send good fighting men out to die senselessly, that he is crippling my ability to maintain the kingdom. Every man lost is one less to fight the dragons, and one less set of hands to work our machines. At this rate, Dragonwall will fail in just a few years, regardless… Come, I want to show you one more thing.”

  They climbed back onto the platforms and took another ride, this time all the way to the top of the mountain. They rolled to a stop inside a long curved tunnel with circular staircases leading up on either side. Dane led the group up the stairway to the right. They climbed several flights, spiraling round and round until they emerged at the top of a broad, parapet-lined wall. Every few yards, crossbow-like ballistae faced outwards. Two soldiers were manning weapons near the stairs. Dane walked over to the edge and looked out over the ocean.

  “This,” he said with a grand gesture, “is Dragonwall. Look! Look at what else my brother hasn’t told you.”

  River hurried over and leaned out through the parapets. A cold, gusty breeze hit her in the face, and she caught her breath. The others joined her, and they all gasped as they saw hundreds of brightly colored dragons soaring over the ocean, twisting and climbing, occasionally diving deep into the water. Some basked in the late afternoon sun up and down the face of the cliff. Two smaller dragons fought over the carcass of a killer whale on the beach. A brilliant yellow dragon dove into the waves with a resounding splash, and resurfaced in an explosion of seawater a moment later with a seal trapped in its jaws. A mist rolled off the creature’s wings as it flew into the sky. The dragon threw its head back and swallowed the seal in a single gulp.

  A few miles out to sea, River saw the peak of a tall volcano rising up from a chain of islands. She glanced at Dane, who had been standing next to her.

  “Now you understand,” Dane said with a wry smile. She nodded and turned to look at Socrates. To her surprise, the mechanical ape wasn’t watching the dragons at all. He had turned to the south, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the battlements.

  “What is it?” she said.

  “Look,” he said, pointing.

  River followed his gaze and saw that beyond the southern tower, a steep precipice fell away from the wall into a vast depression of land. It was filled with impenetrable forest and a broad, slow-moving river that branched out into hundreds of tributaries. To the east, the ocean waves washed up over the rocks in a salty spray that splashed over the rim of the cliffs and cascaded waterfall-like down into the jungle. River lowered her gaze, scanning the canopy of vine-covered trees, and saw the head of a great dragon rising up out of the foliage. This dragon didn’t look like the others. Rather than spines and horns, it had a long, slender neck and a broad forehead that narrowed into an almost horse-like face. Strangely, it seemed to be munching on the leaves of one of the trees.

  “What is this place?” she said in a whisper.

  Socrates turned to face her. “That is a crater,” he said. “This is the place we have been looking for.”

  Chapter 18

  Dane turned to face Socrates. “Now you understand what resources I have, and what I’m up against.”

  “I am most impressed,” Socrates said. “Most impressed.”

  “Then you don’t believe the stories my brother has told you about me?”

  “I am no fool. I can see with my own eyes. What you have done here is remarkable. It’s a pity that Lord Fenn is trying to sabotage all of this. He doesn’t understand what will happen if you lose this place.”

  “No, he doesn’t. My brother is an arrogant imbecile.”

  “At any rate, I may be able to help you. I believe we might come to a mutually beneficial arrangement, if you are willing.”

  “You still wish to do business with me?”

  “More than ever.”

  “We will adjourn to my private quarters. Tell your crew they are free to explore the mountain, so long as they don’t interfere with the workers.” Dane looked at the sky and saw the brilliant hues of a glowing sunset spreading out over the sea. “The hour is late. You and your crew are welcome to stay here tonight. It would be much safer, and it would ease my mind not having to worry about your people out in the dragon’s breath. You will join us for the feast, of course.”

  “That is very generous,” said Socrates. He took a moment to relieve the crew, giving Loren the task of returning to the train to invite the others back to the mountain. After they had dispersed, Dane led Socrates, River, Micah, and Kale to his private quarters.

  Dane’s home was located close to the top of the mountain. The main room was large, but cluttered with hundreds of relics, antiques, and strange mechanical devices. A pair of mechanical songbirds rested atop an ancient grandfather clock, quiet and motionless for the moment. A mechanical suit of armor stood by the front door, posed like a soldier guarding the entrance. Judging from the simplicity of design and the somewhat crude craftsmanship, it was probably an early prototype. The room also contained several pieces of antique furniture, a massive fireplace, and a row of tall bookcases against one wall. The shelves stretched more than fifteen feet high. An attached ladder made it possible to reach the higher shelves. There were passages to the north and east, the latter leading into the kitchen. To the west, double doors opened out onto a terrace.

  Socrates took in all of this in a glance. He approached the bookshelves, and began scanning the titles. Dane watched him for a moment.

  “That’s interesting,” the king said.

  Socrates glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Of all the people who’ve visited my home, you’re the first to go straight to my books.”

  “That’s surprising,” Socrates said.

  “Not really. Not if you know humans very well. Do you enjoy reading?”

  “He never stops,” said River. “His brain is like a library.”

  “Then you would enjoy our Hall of Records. Remind me, I will take you there later.”

  At that moment, Dane’s children came racing into the room. The king had twins, four-year-old girls; one with dark hair and sharp gray eyes like her father, the second with auburn hair and brown eyes. The two of them tackled Dane, and the king made a show of being helpless as he let them take him to the floor. The children pounced on him, and Dane wrestled with them while the others looked on.

  Dane’s wife came into the room. Between grunts and snarls, he introduced her as Aileen. She was tall and thin, with the same auburn hair and dark eyes as their daughter. Aileen wore a blouse made of heavy green fabric, with a brown leather bodice, matching leather breeches, and tall, moccasin-like boots.

  “That’s enough, children,” she said after a few minutes of horse-play. “Run over to the Pandemonium to play with the other children while we see to our guests.” The twins enthusiastically agreed, and Aileen shooed them out the door while Dane crawled back to his feet.

  “I’m afraid they’re a little wild,” Aileen said apologetically after the twins had gone. “Shae and Amber get their energy from their father.”

  “The better for them,” Dane said, pulling Aileen close. “Either of them could wield a sword better than half my men. Which reminds me: a blue whelpling broke through the wall in the gallery. Couldn’t have been more than ten years old. We have to be more careful on the east slope. Keep the children away from there.”

  “I always do,” Aileen said. She turned to her guests. “Please, make yourselves comfortable while I get some drinks.”

  Dane led
his guests through the set of glass doors on the west wall, out onto the stone terrace that overlooked Stormwatch. The terrace had been carved out of the side of the mountain, and they could see many similar structures jutting out here and there across the front of the castle and the wall.

  The sun was setting in the west, and a cool breeze that smelled like ocean mist came down from the mountain at their backs. The mountain air was cold on the back of River’s neck, and it sent a chill crawling down her spine. Dane pulled a lever next to the doors and a fire roared to life in the pit at the center of the terrace.

  “You have a beautiful home,” River said, gazing out across the city.

  “On a clear day you can see all the way to Lexington, a hundred leagues to the west.”

  River looked at him. “Is that a city?”

  “The largest in my kingdom. The only true city, in fact. It was built upon the ruins of another, much older city.”

  “But shouldn’t you be there?” said Socrates. “You are the king. Shouldn’t you be in the place where your subjects are?”

  “And leave Dragonwall undefended?” said Dane. “What sort of king would I be then?”

  Socrates stroked his chin thoughtfully. “How long has it been? How long have you been fighting the dragons?”

  “I can’t say,” said Dane. “There is a hole in our records; a dark age. We have no books or documents from that time, which means we have no way of knowing what happened then, or how long it lasted.”

  Socrates inflated his chest, appearing to take a deep breath. His internal machinery hummed and clicked with the movement, and a puff of steam rolled out of his chimney. “I’m afraid I can’t say I’m surprised. I have found the story is the same everywhere I go.”