Blood of Dragons (Rain Wild Chronicles #4)

Blood of Dragons (Rain Wild Chronicles #4) Page 176

Oh. Not you. Relpda suddenly interrupted the daunting stream of emotion. Sedric felt muffled suddenly, his thoughts closed off from a flood of dragon glamour directed at those they overflew.

They circled the city in an ever-tightening spiral, bombarding the humans below with glamour. Horses, dogs, and even yoked oxen seemed as vulnerable, for Sedric saw them go suddenly mad with terror, bolting down the streets, headed out of the city, regardless of obstacles, living or otherwise, in their paths. New screams rose, more trumpets, bells rang wildly and he felt sick with horror to be a part of it. ‘I just want it to be over,’ he muttered to himself.

Soon, Relpda promised. Soon.

The soup was nearly gone. Chassim refilled their wine glasses. ‘The condemned are eating heartily,’ she observed.

In the near distance, a woman shrieked. A chorus of screams rose. ‘What is it?’ Selden endeavoured to rise, but she waved him back. She rose, a bit unsteadily and went to the balcony wall. ‘The streets are filling with people. They’re running. They’re pointing up, at us.’ She gazed down at them in consternation. Then she turned her head over her shoulder and gazed up. And gasped.

She turned, leaning so far back that Selden reached out and grasped her ankle. ‘Don’t fall!’ he commanded her. ‘Don’t go without me!’

She lifted her hand and pointed. ‘Dragons. A sky full of dragons.’

‘Help me up,’ he begged her. Then, as she continued to stare at the sky, he demanded breathlessly, ‘A blue queen. Do you see a blue queen dragon among them?’

‘I see a red dragon. And a silver and two orange ones. A queen?’

‘A female. Gloriously blue, with silver and black markings as well. Graceful as a butterfly, powerful as a striking hawk. Shaming the sky with her blueness.’

‘I don’t see any blue dragons.’

He pushed himself away from the cushions and onto his hands and knees. Not strong enough to crawl to the edge of the balcony, he slid and lifted his body until he was able to sprawl on the floor and look up at the sky. She was right. His dragon wasn’t there. ‘Not my dragon,’ he said, and hopelessness filled him.

The dragons swung in an arc past the Duke’s grand palace. They were coming lower. A small silver one trumpeted wildly, spraying venom with the sound. ‘Sweet Sa, no,’ Selden prayed. He had seen Tintaglia rain venom down on Bingtown when she had repelled the Chalcedean invaders. He had seen droplets strike men and an instant later, fall out the other sides of their bodies, followed by blood and guts. Nothing stopped it. He tried to find words to warn Chassim, and could not form them.

The silver dragon’s mist fell randomly, the droplets caught on the wind. Selden’s horrified gaze followed the silvery mist as it was wafted down and onto a statue in a garden. He did not hear the hiss, but he imagined it as the newly sprouted plants withered suddenly, turning to sodden brown heaps on the soil. A moment later, the statue collapsed in a gush of powder.

‘They’re attacking the palace,’ Chassim said breathlessly. ‘They spit something and whoever it touches crumples. Quickly. Get back inside!’

‘No.’ He felt numb. ‘Hiding inside will do us no good. Not unless you want to be under the rubble when it all collapses on us.’ His mouth had gone dry, his voice hoarse. ‘Chassim, we are going to die today. There’s no help for it.’

She stared at him, her eyes wide. Then she looked out over her city again. A ribbon of destruction, encircling the Duke’s stronghold, was now clearly visible from the tower. It was growing wider, the swathe of collapsed buildings and melted bodies growing closer. The dragons’ plan was obvious. All within the circle would be drenched with acid venom. They stood in the centre of oncoming death.

‘My people,’ she said softly.

‘They’re fleeing. Look at the streets, the more distant ones.’ Selden sat up shakily. Fear gives a man strength, he thought to himself.

‘The dragons aren’t following them.’ Chassim spoke slowly as she looked down at the streets choked with people. It looked as if every inhabitant of the city was running away from them. ‘My father. The Duke. They’ve come for him, haven’t they?’

Selden managed a nod. ‘I’m sorry. They will destroy everything to get at him, I think.’

‘I’m not sorry.’ She spoke the words without remorse. ‘I pity my people. I am saddened to see them terrified. But I do not pity my father or the end he has brought upon himself. Nor am I sad that he will not drain you dry and bring your body back to me. That, at least, I am spared.’