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DRAGON AGE: THE CALLING 11 страница

"I'm fine," she gritted weakly through her teeth. With a wave of a hand, a warm blue glow suddenly suffused her entire body. She gasped out loud as the pain was lifted from her, arching her back as the magic worked its way through her body. Maric watched, impressed, as several of the smaller cuts along her arms slowly closed and healed. When the spell was finished, the glow disappeared and Fiona collapsed limply. Duncan rushed forward to catch her before she hit the ground, and with a grin he tapped her on the cheek.

"Hey there," he said with a chuckle. "No passing out just yet."

"I know," she groaned.

Utha passed the lad a potion in a white bottle, which he immediately pressed to Fiona's lips. The mage made a sour face but drank as bidden, and then coughed severely as whatever had been inside jolted her upright. She shuddered convulsively once. Then she opened her eyes and looked around, still splattered in blood and pale as a sheet, but the weakness seemed to have been driven from her.

"See?" Maric patted Julien on the back. "She's fine. Nicolas will be fine as well, once she gets to him. I've been injured like that a few times, myself. Nothing handier than having a mage around to patch you up."

The warrior looked embarrassed and allowed himself to be helped back up to his feet. "I apologize, King Maric. I must look like a foolish old woman to you."

"It's just Maric... and don't be ridiculous. You two are obviously friends. I happen to know what that's like, believe it or not."

Julien paused, giving him a look that he wasn't quite sure how to read. Perhaps he thought Maric was being disingenuous? Eventually the man smiled a bit sheepishly, reassured. Without saying anything further, he ran to help Kell with his friend.

Genevieve watched Maric carefully from across the passage. She wiped the gore from her face with a length of cloth, but her eyes remained fixed on him. Her look was tense, he thought, and perhaps dangerous. The others hovered near Fiona, helping the mage gather her strength for healing spells, and only their commander stood apart. It was just a matter of a few feet, but it may as well have been miles. Maric had to wonder if it had always been that way for the Commander.

Healing was doled out quickly, even as they listened to the sounds of the alien humming growing louder and louder in the tunnels. The other darkspawn were getting closer, and from the growing tension in Genevieve's pacing, Maric assumed that there must be more on the way from other directions now, as well.

The magic that Fiona provided had its limitations. It could mend flesh and restore a degree of health, but severe wounds were beyond her ability to heal. Julien's broken arm remained broken, and while Nicolas could walk, it seemed certain he had internal injuries that would continue to plague him. Fiona herself clearly was not fully recovered. Utha hovered around her, wringing her hands nervously the more the mage pushed her limits.

When the time came for Maric's turn, Fiona was already shaking and coated in a fresh sheen of sweat. This was sapping what little reserves of mana the mage had left, he could tell. When she raised her hand to touch his forehead, he stopped her.

"I'm not badly injured. I'll be fine."

She arched an eyebrow curiously. "Is that supposed to impress me?"

"It's supposed to save your strength, actually."

The elf appeared taken aback. She hesitated, her dark eyes meeting his for a moment, before touching his forehead despite his protest. "Let me worry about my strength." Her tone was gruff but her fingers were gentle, brushing his skin lightly as the tingle of her magic began to wash through him. He tried not to stare at her, and instead concentrated on the aura of sapphire light that surrounded him.

His twisted leg felt better immediately, if not completely repaired. The puncture wound in his gut left by the arrow similarly stopped bleeding. While not whole, the spell left him feeling at housand times better. He smiled his appreciation at the mage, and she shot him a dubious look and said nothing in return before moving on.

Genevieve had them traveling again within minutes. They moved almost as quickly as before, or tried to, as the various injuries served to slow them down considerably. They were also exhausted, Fiona most of all. Still, the Commander spent her time constantly urging them to move faster and faster. Despite the wounds she herself must have suffered, she seemed unimpaired and drove herself by sheer force of will alone.

Fear worked to speed them, as well. Maric didn't need supernatural senses to tell that the darkspawn were closing in on them no matter how fast they moved. The humming was constant now, and he almost expected to spot a horde of darkspawn waiting around every turn.

They reentered the Deep Roads proper, dropping back into the dwarven passages through a great crack in the walls that could very well have been caused by some natural tremor. It looked to Maric like any other part of the Deep Roads did: dark and forbidding, with broken statues of the dwarven Paragons and the darkspawn corruption spreading over it all. How would they find their way back to the proper route now?

He didn't have time to think about it, as it soon turned into a chase. Genevieve's cries became frantic and they broke into a full run. Exhaustion burned his muscles as they pushed and pushed, taking one turn after the other. He began to hear more than the humming off in the shadows: Now he heard the hisses and clanging of metal, the shouts of true pursuit.

They left the Deep Roads again, though this time there was little choice. The passage simply seemed to sever - not neatly, either, but like a broken limb with the jagged edges of bone still protruding from the flesh. Beyond the broken stone lay only a wide natural cavern, the floor a sizable drop down. Whether the passage picked up ahead at some point again was impossible to discern through the darkness. Perhaps the entire thing had caved in here, but why?

They couldn't turn back. Going down was the only option.

With the sounds of the darkspawn still approaching, Genevieve led the way by making the leap into the cavern. She landed and remained crouched for a moment, her sword held at the ready as she scanned the shadows for any sign of life. Nothing moved.

The rest of them followed immediately after. Maric landed hard on his sore leg and hissed in pain. The others ignored him, remaining still as they scanned the shadows. The only thing that the light on the mage's staff revealed around them was great chunks of rubble.

There was also the acrid smell of brimstone. Maric found it almost overpowering. Was there some kind of natural spring nearby?

"What is that?" Duncan complained.

"Quiet!" Genevieve snapped. Her sword remained out, her eyes at once so wary and so exhausted that they looked positively murderous. She obviously was convinced they were not alone. Duncan's jaw closed with an audible click.

Her caution was infectious, and while they moved forward into the unknown darkness of the cavern, they did so only slowly. Fiona held up her staff and made it shine brightly enough to show where they were more clearly. This was definitely some kind of natural fissure, and they could see the jutting bones of other passages up above at several junctures. This great cavern lay between the Deep Roads, or around it. It was difficult to tell.

The sound of something odd crunching under his boot heel caught Maric's attention. He looked down, and noticed bones.

The others saw them just as he did. Fiona breathlessly lifted her staff up again, and it illuminated many piles of bones. Not human bones, Maric was relieved to see. Nor darkspawn bones, either. These were animal bones, most of them old and covered in dust.

There was a pack animal called a bronto that roamed the Deep Roads, formerly tame beasts that the dwarven Shapers had engineered long ago and that had gone wild when the darkspawn had destroyed the dwarven kingdoms during the First Blight. Maric had never seen one himself, but there were supposed to be herds of them still roaming underground. These were bronto bones, he suspected. Piles and piles of them. A whole cavern so full that it blanketed the stone.

"Is this some kind of graveyard?" Fiona asked, her voice small.

Kell shook his head. He crouched down and picked up one of the larger fragments. The fact that it was jaggedly split was obvious.

Something had torn it apart. Many of the bones had suffered similarly. Without comment he tossed the piece aside and nocked an arrow on his bow. His pale eyes looked around intently.

They were all quiet, waiting.

"Do you hear that?" Duncan finally asked.

Each of them cocked their head, listening. There were only silence and shadows. It had also grown warm, Maric found. He had assumed that the warmth he felt was a result of all the running and sweating, but now that they were still and he was calmer, he realized it was something else. Mixed with the sulfurous stench was a dry heat wafting in the air.

"I don't hear anything," Genevieve growled.

"Exactly! Where are the darkspawn? I can barely sense them!"

The Commander seemed stunned not to have realized it herself. They stood for a long minute, doing nothing, before she finally waved them to proceed. "We need to find a way through. Whatever reason the darkspawn aren't following us, perhaps we can use it to our advantage."

The rest of them appeared reluctant but said nothing. They followed her quietly, picking their way through the field of bones as the cavern slowly opened up into something even larger. There was light here, too. It was dim at first, the faintest glow of lichen clinging to the walls, but eventually it increased to the point where Fiona's staff wasn't even needed. Maric was reminded of the great caverns that the thaigs were built within, but here there were stalactites and stalagmites instead of dwarven buildings. There were fissures pumping out steam, and he thought he saw faint streams of lava behind large rocky outcroppings. Their orange glow added to the dread ambience.

There were also more of the bones littering the entire chamber. Many of them were blackened, jumbled atop piles of dark ash. Several of the fissures sent clouds of steam pumping up along the rocky walls. The smell of brimstone became almost overpowering.

Kell's hound began to growl fearfully, its hackles raised.

Genevieve stared into the distance, trying to peer past the faint haze of the steam as if she could command whatever secret this place held to reveal itself. Nothing came. Without looking at the others, she waved them forward. "Look for a way through."

As they began to spread out, however, Kell suddenly hissed, "Stop!"

Genevieve turned back, annoyance clear on her face - which instantly turned into alarm. The hunter stared upward, his eyes wide and stark with fear. She followed his gaze at the same time as Maric did, as they all did, and they saw what it was that had kept the darkspawn from pursuing them. Something descended down upon them from above, something large. Something with great, leathery wings.

"Dragon," Kell breathed.

The Old Gods will call to you,

From their ancient prisons they will sing.

Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts,

On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight,

The first of My children, lost to night.

-Canticle of Silence 3:6, Dissonant Verse

"Wardens!"

Genevieve's shout of warning was unnecessary, and came too late as the black-scaled high dragon crashed down onto the ground amid them with cataclysmic force. It roared as it did so, a blast of sound so furious that Duncan covered his ears. He screamed, the pain unbearable, but he couldn't even hear himself. The ground shook under his feet from the force of the dragon's impact, and a rush of air from the dragon's wings beating hard sent him flying off his feet.

The world spun around him as he tumbled and skidded along the ground, until finally he slammed into a column of black rock. Agony blazed through his back. Gritting his teeth, Duncan forced himself to get back to his feet. A wave of dizziness swam over him, but he managed to keep his bearings.

The others had been scattered the same as he had, though the ones in heavy armor had not traveled quite as far. Already the high dragon was spinning around with surprising agility to attack them. It stomped down onto Julien with a taloned foot, pinning him before he could rise, and turned its sinewy neck to glare directly at Genevieve with a head that was twice as large as the woman herself.

She did not retreat, standing resolute with her sword poised before her, eyes warily locked onto the dragon's. The creature snorted black smoke angrily, as if it was enraged by the presence of these intruders in its lair. It breathed through its huge fangs, each yellowed tooth as long as an arm, as it stalked carefully around Genevieve. She kept her sword ready and faced the dragon, her face grim determination.

The dragon stepped off Julien, and the man groaned in pain. Nicolas darted in, quickly dragging the man away to a rocky ridge nearby. There was too much dust and dirt stirred up by the dragon still clouding the air to see much of anyone else.

"Get yourselves to cover!" Genevieve shouted. Her voice drew the dragon's ire and it darted in to snap at her with its great jaws. She rolled to the side, her speed impressive despite her bulky armor, and slashed at the dragon's long neck with her sword. The point cut through its thick black scales, but not deeply. It was enough, however, that the creature reared up high and roared in outrage.

The entire cavern shook as the Commander darted forward, her greatsword held out to stab into the dragon's chest. She never got that close, however, as it swiped her aside and sent her hurtling along the ground.

The other Grey Wardens were reacting now. Duncan saw Nicolas rush in, bashing the dragon on its rear leg with his mace. Julien joined him a moment later, limping as he attacked with his sword. So, too, did Utha appear on the creature's other side. She had pulled out her double-club, a dwarven weapon he had seen her use from time to time, which consisted of two lengths of steel connected by a short length of chain. These she spun around her with dizzying speed, and she rapped the dragon's scales with a wicked blow.

Kell appeared, as well, leaping up to higher ground with Hafter bounding beside him. The hunter restrained the dog from running down to join the fray, and began carefully firing arrows aimed at the dragon's vulnerable head.

The dragon ignored the arrows and spun around with lightning speed. Its long tail swept Julien and Nicolas off their feet, sending them crashing to the ground, and only barely missed Utha as she did a somersault to avoid it. It fixated on the dwarf now, stamping down hard several times in an attempt to crush her. Each time the dwarf danced agilely out of the way.

Duncan pulled out his daggers and dashed forward to assist the others. The heat in this cavern was incredible, and already he was sweating profusely. It would be unfortunate if he got swept by those great wings into one of the lava streams - Duncan had never seen lava before in his entire life, but it wasn't hard to imagine how unpleasant it would be to end up dropped inside it. About as unpleasant as being chomped on by those giant dragon teeth, no doubt.

Are we really planning on fighting this thing?

Genevieve appeared out of the haze and smoke and charged beside him, her sword raised high. They didn't exchange looks and merely ran together toward the dragon's flank as it was preoccupied with Utha. Duncan gulped as they got closer. The creature loomed high overhead, far larger than it had looked from a distance. Far faster, too. It was long and lanky and quick. How in Andraste's name did it live down here?

Dragons were supposed to have been extinct, hunted into oblivion - or at least they were thought to have been until one was spotted over the Frostbacks at the beginning of the Dragon Age.

Was this that one? Was this where dragons came when they weren't flying about and razing the countryside?

Genevieve plunged her sword deep into the dragon's hide. Duncan did the same with his daggers, the silverite easily cutting through the scales. Bright dragon blood spurted from the wounds. His blades didn't cut anywhere near as deeply as the Commander's, but hopefully they were enough to cause the beast some damage.

Apparently they were. The dragon reared up again, roaring thunderously and bringing bits of stone plummeting down from the cavern's ceiling. As it spun around, Genevieve's sword yanked out of the creature's hide, coated red with blood. Duncan's daggers were almost torn from his grip and he had to pull hard to free them. The dragon opened its maw wide, and for a moment there was the sound of a great intake of breath.

"Look out!" Genevieve shouted.

She leaped on Duncan and pushed him to the ground, burying him under her heavy armor. The air was knocked out of him, and for a moment he felt confused. A moment later he realized why she'd done it: The dragon was breathing flame.

The blast of heat hit them first. Duncan cried out, but found the air forcibly ripped from his lungs. For a moment he couldn't breathe, and then the fire washed over them. At the same time, however, something else struck them. A wave of freezing cold from the other direction, something that made Genevieve's armor frost up and the air suddenly fill with boiling steam. The heat was searing and painful, but shockingly they survived. The flames were gone.

Genevieve pulled herself off of him, and he rolled aside quickly. He saw then the reason for their escape: Fiona had appeared, her staff held high over her head and flaring brilliant blue streams of power from the stone at its tip. She looked radiant, surrounded by a corona of magic so cold Duncan could feel it from where he lay.

The dragon could feel it, too. It bellowed in fury and launched itself at the mage, flapping its wings hard enough that Duncan had to struggle not to be blown away once again. Three arrows streaked toward the dragon's head, and one of them hit home in its eye. The creature shrieked and spasmed in midjump, and it crashed down next to Fiona and slid along the ground.

One of its wings nearly hit the elf, but she ignored it and instead collected her will. She channeled power through her staff, and the icy aura around her suddenly burst out in all directions. Instantly the entire cavern was filled with a freezing storm. Wind and snow blew in all directions, and the temperature dropped so rapidly that Duncan could see his breath.

It figures she would bring the damned winter down here, too, he grumbled. The dragon reacted wildly to the spell. It writhed in place, obviously in agony and beating its wings uselessly against the ground as it tried to escape from its millions of painful icy tormentors.

Maric appeared next to Fiona and charged the dragon as it spun, slashing with his enchanted longsword, which bit deep into the creature's hide. Another indignant shriek, and this time the dragon pushed itself to its feet and launched itself high up into the cavern. With several beats of its great wings it retreated to the shadowed recesses above them.

Genevieve stood unsteadily, covering her face against the blizzard. "Grey Wardens, to me! Regroup!" Her voice was almost lost to the howling winds, but the others heeded her call even so and ran toward her.

Duncan remained crouched low to the ground, trying to see through all the blowing snow to discern whether the dragon was about to swoop back down on them again. Perhaps it was gone for good? Perhaps they delivered it enough of a bloody nose that it had retreated to lick its wounds?

"Is it going to come back?" Fiona shouted as she arrived, her thoughts echoing Duncan's.

Kell dropped down from the boulder, Hafter barking angrily. "We should get back to the Deep Roads! Quickly, while there's still time!"

"No!" Genevieve growled. "Our difficulty will be no less there!"

"Than with a dragon? Are you mad?"

Julien and Nicolas approached, an injured Utha limping not far behind, and they looked surprised as they saw their commander cross the distance toward the hunter and grab the front of his leathers in her gauntlets. Her face was contorted with fury, yet he met her gaze levelly, staring at her with his pale eyes. Hafter growled menacingly at Genevieve's feet.

"We are not leaving," she insisted. "We fight. We will win."

"We should be facing darkspawn-"

"We should be finding my brother!" she snarled. "That is our mission! We find a way through this place, back to Ortan thaig! Or we die trying!" She turned a glare to each of the Grey Wardens in turn, challenging them to contradict her. None of them looked away, but none of them spoke, either. When those blue eyes fixed on Duncan, he shrank away a little. She really meant them to fight the dragon if it came back.

"Then what is your plan?" Maric demanded. He stood beside Fiona now, his runed longsword glowing faintly in the blowing snow.

"Do you even have one?" he continued, his tone harshly accusing.

Genevieve's face was steel. She had no time to respond, however, as another cry sounded from the upper reaches of the cavern.

The dragon was returning.

"Move!" she cried.

They scattered. Duncan ran as fast as his legs would take him, covering his face to protect it against the icy winds of Fiona's spell. He could sense the great mass of the dragon overhead, and for a moment he was certain that it was about to come crashing down on top of him, or worse, swoop down and snatch him off the ground in its talons like a hawk would a rabbit.

The creature landed somewhere behind him, however, and uttered another ear-splitting roar. He stumbled and half fell behind a column of rock. Lava swam in a narrow channel nearby, the blowing snow causing great waves of hissing steam to rise from its surface.

Getting his legs underneath him, Duncan turned and chanced a look around the edge of the column. He could definitely make out the dragon through the blizzard, but only as an extremely large and indistinct shape. It was clearly spinning around, its long neck darting down to snap at something below it, though who it was he wasn't sure.

Swallowing hard, he gathered his courage and ran out again.

The high dragon came clearly into view as he approached, all muscle and grace and covered in glossy black scales. He might even have called it beautiful had it not been so dangerous.

The dragon bellowed again, its long tail lashing wildly behind it. Its wings beat madly and added to the flurry of the winds. The sound of its roar amplified in the cavern to the point where it was painful to hear. Duncan winced and tried to keep running forward despite the ringing in his ears.

The creature was having difficulty dealing with all the combatants. From what Duncan could see, the others had surrounded it on several sides. Every time the dragon attempted to concentrate on a single opponent, the others would move in to strike. So, too, did Kell's continual barrage of arrows keep distracting it from its intended target. He saw Utha dancing about near its legs, and Genevieve stabbing deep into its flank. Its black scales were heavily streaked with blood, presumably its own.

The dragon snapped down at Genevieve, and she only barely dodged out of the way. Two more arrows struck its neck and caused it to flinch. It snorted with rage and spun its entire body around, the thick tail swinging low on the ground and flinging Genevieve away. Duncan had to leap to avoid it, and heard the Commander land hard on the uneven rocks behind him. There was a snap like something breaking, and he heard her gasp in sudden pain.

Berserk, the dragon rushed at the outcropping where Kell stood with his bow, its maw open wide. Fiona fired a bolt of lightning at the creature, and it roared in pain as it was struck, but it was now too intent on its tormentor to be dissuaded.

Hafter bolted forward from his master's side, racing down the side of the rock before Kell could stop him. The hound barked furiously and charged at the dragon, but it barely even slowed down. With one great swipe of its forearms it struck the hound and sent him flying. Hafter yelped in pain as he crashed with incredible force against the far stone wall of the cavern, and then slid down to the ground below, where he lay still and silent.

Kell shouted in rage, his cool demeanor finally broken. He fired three arrows in quick succession at the dragon's head, and one of them struck true near its eye. It reached the hunter and snapped him up in its jaws, carrying him into the air. The man screamed now in agony, and even from where Duncan stood he could hear the sounds of ribs breaking as the dragon bit down with its enormous

jaws.

"Kell!" Fiona cried out from below.

Duncan got near enough to the dragon's rear to stab into it with his daggers. He drew blood, but it only had to twitch its tail to send him stumbling down to the stone again. Dazed, he sat up, only to have the tail slam into him like a brick wall. He skidded several feet and then rolled, finally smacking his head hard against a stalagmite. His vision swam, and for a moment he couldn't tell which end was up.

When he raised his head, he saw King Maric charging at the dragon, his longsword with its blue glowing runes raised high over his head. He stabbed it deep into the creature's flank, just above one of its forearms, and that was enough to make it scream. It dropped Kell out of its mouth, the man little more than a limp rag doll of blood and broken bones from what Duncan could see. Fiona ran to his side.

The dragon angrily spun on Maric then, its mouth open wide and dripping with red blood. The intake of breath was audible even from where Duncan lay, and for a moment the King stared up at the creature. There was nowhere for him to run, and nobody was nearby to distract the beast further. As the dragon glared down at him, Duncan saw him stare back and see his death in the creature's eyes.

And then the dragon blew its gust of flame.

Maric's eyes went wide with disbelief as the flames struck an invisible barrier in front of him. Instead of engulfing him completely, they passed around him harmlessly. He looked around and saw Fiona not a few feet away, her hands still raised from the spell she had cast.

"Get back, you idiot!" she yelled.

He stumbled away as the dragon stomped one of its legs, attempting to crush him underneath. It stomped again, this time catching his cloak and tearing it off his back. Nicolas and Utha appeared out of nowhere on its other flank, and for a moment the beast was torn between trying to attack the fleeing Maric and turning to face its new attackers. With a roar of pain and frustration it spun about, batting Nicolas aside almost instantly.

Fat lot of good I'm doing over here!

Duncan picked himself up off the floor, wincing from the sharp stab of pain he felt in his leg but refusing to let it slow him down. The dragon had its back to him again, and he needed to take advantage of that position this time. They could keep hacking away at this giant beast all day. It wasn't going to die unless they hit something really critical-like its head.

He raced across the stone, watching as Utha once again danced away from the dragon's attacks and struck at it when she could with her double-club. He saw a bright flash of blue light as Fiona laid a healing spell on Kell. When he reached the creature's tail, he didn't slow down, and tried to pretend that what he was doing wasn't completely idiotic.

Oh, don't turn around! Don't turn around!

Grinning madly, he stepped onto the thickest part of the dragon's tail and kept on running. It was difficult with the blowing wind and snow, and harder still as the creature jerked and moved underneath him, but somehow he managed to keep his balance as well as his momentum. Arms held out at his sides and shouting in near panic, Duncan sped up along the dark ridges of the dragon's spine.

"Duncan, you fool!" he heard Genevieve shouting from somewhere behind him. "What are you doing?"

It was a good question. One he didn't really have time to think about. The dragon was only just now becoming aware that there was something on its back. Fortunately, both Maric and Utha pressed their attack just then and kept the creature from attempting to deal with him.

He tried not to look. He kept his feet pumping and his eyes on the scales beneath him. He tried not to notice just how far down the floor was from this height. Terror thrilled through him, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

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