Song of Dragons The Complete Trilogy - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,230

want to fight, and fly, and... as Kyrie put it, roll in the hay. Any one of those things beat crying. Sometimes Agnus Dei felt that no more tears could flow from her, that no more pain could fill her. And yet the pain was always there, a rock in her stomach, ropes around her heart, smoke in her eyes. Fighting, flying, loving—that was better than pain. Wasn't it?

She sighed and took his hand. It was gloved in leather, and she squeezed it.

"All right, pup," she said. "I'll walk a little slower to match your small puppy steps."

They walked through the ruins, snow swirling around their boots. Soon they passed the mossy boulders that reminded Agnus Dei of dragons, and she looked to her right and saw the cemetery there. The ropes around her heart tightened, and she gave Kyrie's hand another squeeze.

I'm still fighting, Father, she thought. I'll be strong like you. Like you taught me.

Tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them with her fist. Kyrie saw, and his eyes softened, and for a long time they walked in silence. She looked at him once, and wanted to pester him, tease him, kiss him even... but none of it felt right. Not before, not now. How could she still find joy in this world, when her father lay buried, and monsters crawled the ruins?

But there was something she could do. I can fight.

"Do you think we'll find any statues?" she asked. She hefted her heavy leather pack, where she carried Animating Stones. "I've seen only pieces of statues in Requiem, feet or hands or heads."

Like the body pieces Dies Irae sews together, she thought with a shudder.

Kyrie scanned the northern horizon, as if he could see statues from here. "I don't know. But the ruins of Requiem's palace are a good place to look. If we find them anywhere, we'll—"

A howl pierced the air.

Agnus Dei and Kyrie drew their swords with a hiss.

A second howl sounded—closer this time.

Scanning the ruins, Agnus Dei lowered her blade. "Wolves," she said. "They would roam my old mountain hideout; I'd recognize their howls anywhere."

She wished she could shift—she'd rather face a hungry wolf pack as a dragon—but the Animating Stones in her pack meant facing them as humans.

"Those aren't wolves," Kyrie said. He stared from side to side, as if seeking them. "There are no more wolves in Requiem."

A third howl rose, this one even closer. More howls answered. They still sounded like wolf howls, but... deeper, crueler. Agnus Dei shivered.

"Look!" Kyrie said and pointed with his sword.

Agnus Dei saw six figures in the distance. They seemed like men—they ran through the snow on two legs—but they howled like demon wolves.

"They saw us," she said. "Kyrie, let's light some arrows."

He already had his tinderbox in hand. "I like the way you think."

They switched from swords to bows, lit their arrows, and nocked them. The figures raced toward them. Their stench carried on the wind—the stench of bodies.

"More mimics," Agnus Dei said, jaw tight.

When the creatures were close enough to see clearly, she nearly gagged. Their bodies were from dead humans, stitched and stuffed. Their heads were the heads of dead wolves, sewn onto human necks, fur matted and eyes dripping pus.

"Let's burn those bastards," Agnus Dei said. "Fire!"

She loosed her arrow. Kyrie did the same. The flaming missiles flew in an arc. Agnus Dei cursed; her arrow missed. Kyrie's hit a mimic's leg. It screeched, fell, then rose and kept running.

"Fire again!" Agnus Dei shouted.

They lit more arrows. They shot again. This time, Agnus Dei hit a mimic in the chest, and she shouted in rage and triumph. The creature fell, and the fire spread across it. Kyrie's arrow grazed another's shoulder, searing but not killing it.

"Agnus Dei, light your torch!" Kyrie shouted. He was busy lighting his, and soon swung it as a flaming club. Agnus Dei managed to light hers as the five surviving mimics reached them.

She swung her torch and hit a wolf head. Sparks blazed. A second mimic bit at her left. Its stench stung her eyes and twisted her stomach. She leaped back and raised her arm. Its teeth banged against her vambrace, and it howled. She shoved the torch against its face. Its fur kindled and it screamed.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Kyrie battling his own mimics. Then one leaped onto her, knocking her down. She hit the snow and crossed her arms over her face. Wolf teeth bit at her armor. Drool