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

  “This is it?” he said in a loud voice. “Eight of us?”

  They averted their eyes. Dane snorted. He gave Kale a look that said “I told you so!”

  “Fair enough,” he said. “My grandfather used to say a coward risks nothing and loses everything. As for the rest of you, make peace with the Maker, for today we go behind Dragonwall so that people who don’t know us and will never hear of our deeds can sleep peacefully tonight. Some of you may die, but your reward lies in the next world, and it is far greater than a few nights of sleep. Every one of you who dies today will wake up tomorrow a king, with lands and wealth and life eternal!”

  The men let out a cheer, and Kale couldn’t help joining in. He had never heard Dane’s beliefs about the afterlife, but they weren’t so different from those he’d learned as a child in Astatia. In fact, in a way, he rather preferred them. There was something familiar about the warrior-code ingrained into their belief system; something that resonated with him in a way that Kale had never experienced before. Was it true? Would the “Maker” really make Kale a king in the next life? Was that the reward of an honorable death? Was the Maker the same as the Creator Kale had believed in as a child? They sounded similar in ways.

  Dane leapt down from the battlements and led the men around the north tower. There, a spiral staircase that Kale hadn’t noticed before took them down the outer face of Dragonwall. The stairs ended at a narrow trail carved into the cliffs. A safety line was fastened to the rocks on their left. Kale stepped into position behind Dane, and the others fell in line behind them.

  As they began their descent, Kale could see out over the ocean for miles. A wall of fog hovered on the horizon, the jagged tops like mountain peaks seen from a great distance, but the sun was shining and all things considered, it was a beautiful day. Just like the previous day, the dragons were sunning themselves, napping, and hunting the marine life that they could so easily snatch out of the water.

  Unfortunately, even with the cool breeze blowing in from the ocean, Kale soon found himself baking under all his armor. A few hundred yards down the path, the rope vanished and the trail gave way to narrow stone stairs that wound down the face of the mountain, all the way to the beach. Kale leaned out, trying to get a look at the trail ahead, wondering if it would lead them straight into battle with the dragons. The terrain was too uneven for him to get a good look. He couldn’t see past the outcroppings in the cliffs. While he was trying, the rocks at the edge of the trail gave way and went out from underneath his feet. He lurched back onto the trail and quickly regained his balance. He glanced up at Dane and then back at the others, somewhat embarrassed by his clumsiness. No one seemed to have noticed. Their thoughts were elsewhere.

  Considering all the armor and weapons they carried, it was a surprisingly quiet hike. None of the men spoke as they made their way down the mountain. Finally, about halfway down, they came around a sharp corner and found themselves facing a wide rock-strewn slope littered with boulders. Hundreds of tiny brightly-colored dragons were scattered around the area, basking in the sun and soaking up the warmth of the rocks. None of them were more than a few feet in length.

  “Welcome to Devil’s Slide,” Dane said as the others fanned out around him. “Watch your step, Kale. One wrong move, and you’ll set off a rock slide that’ll take half the mountain down on top of you.”

  “What do we do?” he said, reaching for one of his swords.

  Dane laughed, and the others joined in. He clapped his hand down on Kale’s shoulder. “Put your sword away. We’re not here for these little ones. Wait until you see what’s up ahead.”

  Kale shoved his sword back into the sheath. They started walking through the slide, one cautious step at a time. Kale took a few uneasy steps out into the field, and instantly got an unnerving feeling in his gut. The sound of his boots against the stones seemed… wrong. The sound was hollow, as if all those precariously balanced rocks were the only thing keeping him from plummeting into some deep, dark pit.

  The temperature instantly increased, and it seemed like the breeze vanished entirely. Sweat streamed down his face, burning his eyes, and Kale wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. He reached out to steady himself on a nearby boulder and heard a loud hissing noise. He recoiled as a small gray and gold dragon reared its head. The creature had been resting on the other side, just out of sight.

  As Kale lurched back, he stepped on an uneven stone and it went out from underneath him. At the same moment, the dragon blew a spray of fire straight at him. The flames were relatively small, but gave Kale enough of a start that he whipped out his sword and sliced the creature’s head off in a fraction of an instant. A few rocks tumbled down the mountain, and the dragon’s head and body followed. Around him, the other warriors burst out laughing.

  “I think I understand now,” one of the men said. “When Dane said you were a dragon slayer, we thought you meant real dragons, not whelplings.”

  “Go pick him up,” one of the others laughed. “He’ll make you a nice handbag!”

  Kale sheathed his sword with a dark glare and hurried to catch up with Dane. The others teased him for a few more minutes, but gave up when they realized he was ignoring them.

  The narrow trail crossed over a wide ridge and then ended at a sharp precipice, where a bridge led down to the sand. Spread out below, Kale saw at least a hundred full-grown dragons. Some of them were the size of the red he had killed. A few were even larger. He glanced at Dane, who was standing next to him. The king fixed him with a grim smile and said, “What color do you like?”

  Chapter 22

  River wasn’t happy about being left behind. The fact that Kale had so readily befriended Dane -and had been personally invited to the hunt by the king himself -grated her nerves, but even more so the fact that she couldn’t go because of her duties. When she rode back to the train with Socrates that morning, she wasn’t even sure what those duties were going to be. All she knew was that it was a beautiful crisp morning and Kale was out hunting dragons with the king while she returned to the Iron Horse to work.

  When they arrived, their first order of business was to check in on Burk. River drove to the far end of the train and parked next to the cargo car where they had locked him up.

  “Unbelievable,” she mumbled, gazing up at the dents in the walls of the boxcar. “Looks like he’s been pounding on the walls all night. His hands must be bloody pulps.”

  “Probably a mess inside,” Socrates said.

  They climbed out of the steamwagon. As they reached the end of the boxcar, River stopped in her tracks and drew her sidearm. The door was hanging ajar; the broken lock dangling off to the side. Socrates leapt up onto the platform and disappeared inside. River circled around the car, searching for tracks or any other sign as to how Burk had escaped.

  “He’s gone,” the gorilla said a moment later as he emerged from the cargo box. “Someone let him out.”

  “How do you know?” River said.

  Socrates held up the broken pieces of the lock. “Look at the smooth edge. This didn’t just break, someone cut it. Did you find any tracks?”

  “No, the ground is too hard. Burk could have gone anywhere.”

  Socrates leapt from the platform and landed on the stone ground with a heavy thud. As he straightened, the gears in his body clicked loudly. He turned his head, scanning the landscape around them.

  “Who would have done this?” River said. “Do you think we have a traitor in the crew?”

  “It’s possible,” Socrates said. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Whoever it was, we’ll never prove it.”

  “I knew I should have killed Burk when I had the chance. Why didn’t you let me?”

  “You know why.”

  “But he’s dangerous, Socrates. Let me organize a party. We’ll hunt him down, and-”

  “Stop,” the ape said with a gesture of his hand. “At this point, Burk may not even be a threat to us. If the madness we witnessed yesterday is any clue,
he’s probably the greatest danger to himself. Regardless, we don’t have time for it. We need to focus on the task at hand. Get a pump ready while I load a few barrels onto the steamwagon.”

  “Barrels? Are we going to start collecting starfall? What about the dragon?”

  “I haven’t decided how to deal with him yet. When we are ready for that battle, we’ll need the starfall to operate our machinery. We’re certainly not going to take down a sixty-foot long dragon with muskets and arrows.”

  “I was thinking about that,” River said. “I wish we had one of those gyrocopters the Vangars used to use in Astatia. Remember? They had mini-cannons mounted right on the frame.”

  “I’ve had similar thoughts myself,” Socrates admitted. “Unfortunately, we don’t have one, and it would take far too long to design and build a machine that complicated from the ground up. I’m afraid we’re going to have to find a simpler solution.”

  River considered that as Socrates drove off in the steamwagon. She climbed onto the train and started the trek back to Engineering. It was only then that it occurred to her that Burk might still be in the train. The thought was worrisome enough that River drew her revolver and spent the next forty minutes searching the Horse, one car at a time. By time she was satisfied that Burk wasn’t on the Horse, she found Socrates waiting for her in Engineering.

  “Where have you been?” he said. “I’m almost ready to go.”

  River apologized, and explained what she had been doing.

  “A reasonable precaution,” he said. “Help me get this pump onto the steamwagon, and we’ll be off.”

  “Socrates, there is one other thing.”

  He frowned. “What it is?”

  “The dragon egg, the one Kale brought back from the cave… It’s gone.”

  Chapter 23

  It was Lord Fenn’s custom to bathe three times a day, first in the morning during breakfast, again after lunch, and the last time just before bed. He preferred to bathe for at least an hour each time, which was sufficient to digest his meal and loosen his overworked muscles. How his muscles came to be so overworked in the first place was a matter of some speculation among the servants, who never saw the baron perform any task more challenging than dressing himself, and he rarely managed that alone.

  Nonetheless, three baths was customary and -according to the baron- a minimum requirement for good health and happiness. To his servants, who rarely bathed more than once a month, this seemed at best an exaggeration and at worst, a cruel use of scant resources that could have been better used elsewhere. Once, one of Lord Fenn’s servants had even summoned the courage to tell him out loud what everyone else had been thinking. The poor man was never seen again.

  Some days, when the weather was cool, the baron liked to bathe longer, perhaps even through lunch. On rare occasions, when he was in the right mood, his entire day might stretch into one long bath. However, when the weather became too cold, or if it was raining, Fenn was disinclined to spend so many hours outdoors. He might take a dip while the servants held up a rain canopy to shelter him from the downpour, but such baths never lasted more than half an hour, which was just as well since the baron couldn’t afford to lose any more servants to influenza.

  Thankfully, on this particular day, the weather was perfect. Lord Fenn had finished his breakfast some time ago, and he was beginning to consider whether he should stay in for lunch as well when Morgane appeared on the patio. She approached him, arms folded in front of her so that her hands were concealed in the billowing sleeves of her shimmering black gown. By the time Lord Fenn realized she was there, Morgane was practically upon him. He saw the shadow of movement in the corner of his eye and bolted upright. When Morgane saw his flatulent nudity exposed, she turned her back, quiet laughter shaking her shoulders.

  “Devils, child!” the baron said, sinking back into the steaming waters. “How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that?”

  “Consider my punishment already served,” she said, turning around with a sly grin.

  Fenn rolled his eyes. “What do you want, daughter?”

  “Your guest seems to have recovered. Perhaps not recovered, but at least he can speak.”

  “Show him in,” the baron said with a wave of his hand, splashing water across the tiles.

  “Are you certain?” she said, lowering her voice as she approached him. Morgane leaned up against the railing of the tub, putting her face close to his. “He seems dangerous, father. I think you should send him away.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We have an arrangement. The man is a mercenary, and I am his employer. He wouldn’t dare touch me.”

  “No sane man would, father, but in his case…”

  “You worry too much. This is men’s business. It’s not for women folk. You should go shopping.”

  “There is nothing to buy here, father. I already own everything I could want. If I had my wish-”

  “Don’t say it!” he interrupted. “We are not leaving Stormwatch, and that’s final. Not yet, anyway.”

  “But I hate it here! Why can’t we just leave and forget all of this?”

  “Forget?” he said, narrowing his eyebrows. “Do you really think I could forget what Dane did to my father, to your grandfather?”

  “Of course not.”

  He leaned close, reaching out to touch her face with his plump wet fingers. “You will wait. You will be patient, and when I am through, you will have your inheritance. It is so close now that I can feel it in the palm of my hand. We will do nothing to risk that. Do you understand me? Nothing!”

  “What about the dragons?”

  Lord Fenn settled back into the waters, smiling as he spread his arms along the rim. “You leave that to me, Morgane. Just leave it all to me.”

  “Very well, father. I will be patient, for now.”

  “Good. Now bring in my guest.”

  Morgane disappeared and the baron enjoyed a brief moment of silence before the creature known as Burk came in. “Creature” being the exact word that came to mind when Lord Fenn saw him.

  “Burk?” the baron said, sitting up straight and staring.

  Burk grunted, a sound not unlike that made by a grizzly bear digging through a pile of refuse. He strode across the patio, his bare feet and claws clicking against the stones. When he stopped at the edge of the tub, gazing through the rising steam at his employer, Burk wore a distinctly animalistic expression on his face. Or perhaps it wasn’t an expression. The baron noted that Burk now had short, white hair covering his entire body, and when he grimaced, the baron saw long, fanglike incisors protruding from his gums. He looked bigger, too. Both taller and more muscular, if such a thing were possible. Burk had already been a big man, but now…

  “You look… different,” was all the baron could think to say. He stared up at Burk, gazing into the man’s strange lupine yellow eyes. Burk grinned a wide grin, baring his fangs.

  “I owe you for helping me escape,” he said in a grating, sandpapery voice.

  “It was the least I could do. I had to see that our contract was honored. You do still intend to honor our contract, don’t you?”

  Burk bent close, touching his long clawlike fingernails to the churning water. He lifted his gaze, staring into the baron’s eyes, and grinned as Lord Fenn flinched.

  “Our agreement didn’t involve Socrates,” Burk said, accenting the gorilla’s name with a distasteful snarl. “This complicates things.”

  “It need not,” the baron said, finding courage at the promise of another negotiation. He refused to be out-negotiated by anyone… even the creature that stood before him now. “I believe there is a way we can use this situation to our advantage.”

  “Oh?” Burk said, narrowing his eyes.

  “I’ve already tricked Socrates into finding the black dragon for us. Once he has killed it, then you can kill him. And my brother, of course. You must still honor the original agreement.”

  “If the agreement has changed, so has the
price,” Burk said, glaring down at him. Fenn licked his lips.

  “What do you want?”

  Burk lifted his head, sniffing the air like a dog latching onto a scent. His lips parted in a toothy grin. “I will kill Socrates,” he said. “And I will kill Dane, but you must give me the starfall. All of it.”

  “Agreed!” the baron said without hesitation. “That was easy enough.”

  “That’s not all,” Burk grunted. Lord Fenn’s face fell.

  “What else do you want?”

  “Your daughter.”

  “Morgane? But why?”

  “Because,” Burk’s grin widened. “Because I like the way she smells.”

  The baron licked his lips, and swallowed hard. “All right,” he said at last. “If you make me king, you can have her.”

  “Perfect,” Burk said. “If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even kill the dragon for you.”

  Chapter 24

  Looking out over the stretch of beach where they had found the dragons, Kale didn’t recognize the area, but he knew it couldn’t be more than a few miles south of the lair he had discovered. Since the black dragon was nowhere in sight, this left him wondering where the creature might be. When he posed this question to Dane, the king shrugged it off.

  “He’s in one of his lairs, or hiding up in the mountains.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Dragons are only active at night,” Dane said. “During the day, they’re slow, lethargic. You saw how the little ones just let us pass? The big ones will do the same, so long as we give them room. They won’t bristle until we get close enough to be a danger. The big black knows he’s at his weakest, so he’ll be somewhere safe.”

  “That’s why you hunt them during the day.”

  “Of course.”

  “Why not use your tank? It may be slow, but these creatures aren’t going anywhere.”