A Dawn of Dragonfire - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,102
above. Cold winter winds came with them, shrieking through the tunnels, tasting of flame and night.
Deramon swung his blades. As soldiers, women, and children fell dead around him, he grimaced and thought: At least we now have air.
MORI
She flew on the wind, the Moondisk clutched in her claws, clouds streaming beneath her. When she saw the mountains ahead, their snow golden in the dawn, tears filled her eyes. Those were the mountains of Requiem.
"We're home," she whispered into the wind.
When she looked at Bayrin, who flew at her side, she saw his eyes gleam. Flames crackled between his teeth.
"Home," he said, voice streaming into the wind like the smoke from his nostrils.
The clouds obscured all but the mountaintops, and fear filled Mori. What would she find beneath that cloud cover? Smoldering forests? Nothing but ruin and skeletons? The city of Nova Vita still lay many leagues away. When she arrived, would the Moondisk bring hope for her people, or would her gift be given to the dead?
"Remember, Mori!" Bayrin called to her. "When we see the phoenixes, you point the Moondisk at them. I'll burn them with fire."
Mori nodded, clutching the bronze disk in her claws. Would it work? The disk seemed so small, no larger than a shield. How could it defeat the flame of Tiranor? The Children of the Moon had claimed its rays would extinguish phoenix fire, but what if they were wrong? What if that was only a legend? It had been thousands of years since the Sun God had attacked the northern isles; tales from so long ago also spoke of golems of clay, fairies that snatched the teeth of errant children, and other stories that could not possibly be true. Was this Moondisk just another myth?
"Bay, are you sure that—"
She had no time to voice her concern. Before she could complete her sentence, a ball of light flared on the horizon, like a sun rising from the clouds.
Bayrin cursed and bared his fangs.
"Stay near me, Mori," he said. "There's only one. It's time to test the Moondisk."
Fear pounded through Mori. Her limbs shook and flames danced inside her maw. She growled and showed her fangs, and smoke streamed from her nostrils. She glided upon an air current, diving toward the orange ball of light ahead.
Be strong, Mori, she told herself. Be brave. For Requiem. For Bayrin.
The ball of fire burst from the cloud cover, and Mori couldn't help it. She screamed.
The phoenix shot forward. It screeched, a sound like shattering mountains and typhoons. Its wings outstretched, a hundred feet in span, crackling with fire. Its body coiled, woven of liquid fire, and its eyes blazed like two suns.
It was him. She would know him anywhere. Acribus.
Every instinct inside her screamed to flee. Her heart thrashed. Her wings shook. She could barely breathe. Turn and fly, Mori! Fly away and hide!
"With me, Mori!" Bayrin shouted at her side, roaring fire. "Fly!"
Mori howled and blew flame. Heart thrashing, she shot toward the phoenix.
The Moondisk thrummed in her claws, vibrating. Soon it shook so wildly, she nearly dropped it. It felt so hot, hotter than coals, its heat shooting up her limbs. She clutched it tighter and screamed, driving forward along the wind.
The phoenix howled and its eyes met hers. Its beak, white hot shards of molten steel, opened to screech, revealing a maw of lava. It came surging toward her, wings flapping, raising fountains of light.
A ring of silver light exploded in her claws.
A shock wave shot out, the color of sky, its hum deafening. A beam of light coalesced and blazed forward, faster than arrows, wider than the pillars of Requiem, consuming Mori. She screamed with pain. She wanted to die. The light and sound vibrated through her, claiming her; she could see and hear nothing else. And yet she kept flying. She held the Moondisk. She raised it in her claws.
Wings flapping madly, she pointed the beam forward and heard the phoenix howl. The light washed it. Mori could see nothing but blue, but she growled, forced herself to narrow her eyes, to stare, to see her enemy.
Caught in the beam, Acribus howled. His wings flapped and his claws lashed. No more fire covered him. He flew as a great, naked bird, his flesh pale and wrinkled, his eyes black and beady. He looked to Mori like some plucked, starving vulture, a weak and wizened thing.
"Burn it, Bayrin!" she screamed, voice nearly lost under the deafening howl of the light. "Burn it dead!"