Dragons Awakening
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: Dragon Warfare

Ezer tucked his wings and rolled toward the metal wing beneath him.

“One,” he said into the seer’s mind.

Her scream whipped past his tympanic membrane. He dove beneath the plane, using its wash and forward momentum to push himself clear of the vibrating wings and sucking turbine engines.

He continued his roll, staring up at the plane. Zi stretched across the wing beneath the engine, still too far from the body to communicate with her father. A strange fluttering in his chest gave him pause. She’d made a brave decision.

No time for musing. His part of that plan was finished. Ezer snapped his wings open, slowing his descent, facing northward.

“No.” Instead of the positive commendation he had hoped to offer the seer, she’d have to wonder at that work. There was no time before commencing a search for the other dragons. Several hundred feet beneath him, the hideous black carapace wings carried Qwystanak ever closer.

His red brother tilted his head upward and opened his maw. A fiery ball the size of Ezer’s head rushed toward the underside of the jet.

“Try that against someone who can fight back,” Ezer growled.

He expelled a black cloud of smoke to camouflage his dive toward the red’s useless wings. A ball of fire passed above him and fizzled when it entered the smoke. Simple science: his smoke stole the fire’s oxygen.

A roar disturbed the air beneath him but didn’t hinder his outstretched talons from clamping down on the unsightly framework of the immobile wings. He swung his tail, landing a blow that vibrated through the red dragon, upward into his legs and back. A blast of ice sprung from nothing to blast Qwystanak’s underside. Jokul and the boy.

“Protecting the puny lifeforms of this planet?” Qwystanak’s gravelly voice grated inside Ezer’s mind.

Another roar from the red dragon preceded a blast of fireballs - two this time - headed directly toward the nose of the jet. A wave of emotion flooded Ezer’s chest. Hopelessness. He faced in the wrong direction to snuff the burning projectiles with another puff of smoke. Potent rage dispelled the momentary lapse of sentiment.

Qwystanak opened his mouth, sending another barrage toward the silver and blue target. Ezer released his hold on the wings with a downward push. The flightless dragon plummeted toward the choppy sea beneath them. A flap of his mighty wings took Ezer higher. A lash of his tail in the opposite direction rolled him onto his back. At the same moment, he opened his mouth and exhaled a rush of dark smoke. It engulfed the flaming ball. A black stone plunged toward the ground.

One of the first two cannonballs fizzled in a blast of ice from Jokul, who must have plowed his way upward after strafing Qwystanak’s belly with ice. The other ball of fire smashed against the nose of the jet. Fire swallowed the front portion. As the seer predicted. He hoped she would escape the plane, but had no time to consider it. He thanked Jokul for putting one flaming chunk of rock.

“We must focus on Qwystanak,” Jokul said. “His underside is a web of black lines, weak points if the whisperer is correct.”

“Good work, Akolo,” Ezer said. Reaching out, he realized nothing but a void existed where the boy’s mind should have been.

“He keeps Qwystanak from returning to land,” Jokul said.

A blast of flame scorched Ezer’s tail. He rolled away from Jokul, and latched onto the strange wings once more.

“Down you go.” Ezer shoved the stiff wings with all his might.

“I’m above you,” Jokul said.

The black dragon leaped away from the plummeting red body. Behind him, ice blasted along Qwystanak’s back.

“Playing a hiding game,” the red dragon hissed, sending a stream of white flame arcing above him.

A shimmer of air to the south indicated Jokul had spun away as soon as he loosed his arsenal. How did the boy keep his seat on Jokul’s back with his mind focusing on Qwystanak?

“Take the boy to safety,” Ezer told Jokul. “I will open the weakened places.”

“The boy is fine,” Jokul said. “We must bury him in the saltwater.”

“We both need to claw at his cracked armor.”

“When that time comes, I will deposit the boy ashore.”

Ezer dove toward Qwystanak, who roared and unleashed a stream of fire. The impact against the red armor stunned Ezer for an instant. Long enough for the snake-like red tail to slam into his side. Icy stakes gouged beneath his left wing. Pain from being struck.

Ezer growled. “Is that your counter attack?” he taunted.

A pump of his wings carried Ezer away. The jarring sound of stone against metal chased him: Jokul bombing the red dragon. A roar rocked the air, vibrating through his chest as Qwystanak’s ire mounted. Soon he would lash out senselessly, which worked to their advantage.

The acrid smell of spent fuel burned his nostrils. The silver and blue plane descended at a steep angle into the sea. A glance skyward revealed three colorful umbrellas floating downward. Satisfaction washed over him. Zi’s plan had succeeded. Her father was safe. Ezer would soon be reunited with his family.

A ball of fire broke across the spikes on his lower back. Ezer roared, lashing his wings against the air. Above the red dragon again, he rocketed into his backside, directly behind the stiff wings.

The impact jarred the breath from his lungs, but he rolled away, just out of reach of the swinging tail.

The sea rose up beneath them, less than a thousand feet away. Above Qwystanak, Jokul faded into view, talons outstretched toward the useless wings on the red dragon’s back. Qwystanak pointed his face toward the sea, tucking his legs. The lashing red tail propelling him downward struck Jokul’s wing.

Jokul roared, sending ice shards toward the retreating target. Wind buffeted his torn wing. He zagged erratically before steadying himself. Mobility would be difficult - not to mention painful. On his back, the boy wobbled.

“Take the boy ashore,” Ezer said. The land steamed, an island of cooling volcanic rock stretching to the northeast.

“He’s doing our job for us,” Jokul said, adjusting his flight pattern toward the stretch of land.

Ezer flapped his wings, gaining altitude. Qwystanak’s dive had leveled out. He skimmed a hundred feet above the water, blasting it with a steady stream of flame. Hot mist buoyed him upward. The dragon didn’t intend to plunge in the water. That would make things too easy.

With a growl, Ezer dove toward the rising form, claws from all four feet outstretched. His front talons clutched the stiff wings while his back ones scrabbled against the metal body. He swung his tail downward, anticipating the sideswipe of the red tail.

Water rushed up to meet them. Qwystanak twisted his head and launched flames into Ezer’s face. The black dragon closed his eyes, cringing as the fire scalded him. A blast of briny water filled his nostrils. Ezer released his grip, flapped his wings and turned away.

“You think to drown me?” The angry voice blended with a maniacal chuckle.

Ezer shook his head, blinking to clear his vision. Only watery blackness greeted him on the left. His right eye stung in the spray of saltwater. A sea of blue shimmered beneath him. He lifted his head, thrusting his wings downward, and saw the pale blue sky. One-eyed for a battle. Not the best circumstance.

Ezer soared upward, banking to the right. A simmering expanse marring the crystalline surface of the sea hinted at the red dragon’s location. As he watched, circling above like a carrion bird, the water stilled. It was deep. The metal armor wouldn’t be buoyant. Without wings, he wouldn’t be able to steer effectively when swimming. He wouldn’t need to breathe for hours.

Jokul glistened against the sky, flying low over the sea and blasting it with his icy breath. The surface stilled. Jokul wobbled when he pumped his wings. Neither of them were in the best shape to finish this fight.

“The boy is safe,” Jokul said. “He woke up and climbed off my back.”

“None of us have fared well,” Ezer said, turning his head so Jokul could see his scorched face and darkened eye.

“He won’t drown,” Jokul said, circling in a slightly wider pattern above Ezer, bobbling when the wind pushed against his torn wing.

“How will he free himself?”

Ezer glanced toward the shore, nearer now. Their orbit drifted away from the initial point of entry. His single eye panned the stretch of water beneath him. White caps formed on the water nearer shore. Motion in the shallows drew his attention just as he turned leaving his blind side toward shore.

“He walked beneath the water,” Jokul said.

Ezer wheeled, watched the shadow beneath the water enlarge as it neared shore. Jokul dove and pummeled the water with ice, stopping only when the steaming beach became a frozen tundra.

Qwystanak’s head emerged to the right of the ice floe. The black web crisscrossing his back had expanded. Ezer hoped his belly sported more cracks. Water sloshed around the massive legs as Qwystanak plodded toward the shore.

Jokul banked, descending. Qwystanak tilted his head up and opened his mouth. A billow of smoke floated from between the ghastly teeth. Jokul dropped his arrowhead tail, plunging it into one of the black cracks along Qwystanak’s spine.

No mistaking the bellow of pain that followed. The saltwater had corroded the lines where the oxidation grew weak from the continual rounds of cooling and heating. A surge of elation sped Ezer’s dive toward the enemy.

Ezer extended his claws, aiming for the same spot on the red back that Jokul attacked. At the instant before Ezer’s impact, Qwystanak rolled onto his side. The black corpse of wing crumpled beneath his weight. Ezer noted the riot of black lines on the exposed underside in the instant before the red trunk-like legs straightened and their talons raked along his legs.

Lines of icy fire raced across his skin. The talons held him fast. He beat his wings and twisted his head in, clamping his fangs into a crack along the base of Qwystanak’s neck.

“I’m stronger than you,” Qwystanak said. His tail lashed, slowed by the water. Ezer blocked it with his own.

“And slower,” Ezer growled.

A mighty thrash of his wings coupled with his back legs pushing off freed Ezer from the painful grip of his enemy. Chunks of scales and flesh stayed behind in those metal-sharpened claws. Shards of pain raced along his slashed legs and side. Ezer grunted, steeling himself against the agony as he pushed higher into the air, banking so he could survey the damage with his functioning eye.

“Grappling with him is to his advantage,” Ezer said, puffing in a breath of air, fueling the furnace stoked in his belly.

“How will we break through the armor?” Jokul circled higher.

Qwystanak roared and unleashed a barrage of fire balls. His laughter grated against Ezer, stirring the stew of fury simmering in his gut.

“I’ve evened this match by removing the advantage of flight,” Qwystanak said.

Jokul’s mist and Ezer’s smoke snuffed out the burning rocks flying toward them.

Remember the tree. A faint, familiar voice echoed in Ezer’s mind.

Ezer cocked his head, searching the shoreline.

“Akolo?” Jokul asked.

“You are awake.” A wave of pleasure dimmed the blackness of Ezer’s pain for a moment.

Remember the tree I made you eat.

What a strange thing the boy said? Ezer didn’t understand the reference. Something must have occurred between the boy and Jokul while he scouted Qwystanak on the mountain.

“There are no trees, young whisperer,” Jokul said, diving toward the lava-scarred land surrounding them.

“A boat dock,” Akolo said. “Further south.”

Jokul chuckled. The sound felt like salve against the chill creeping through Ezer’s cuts. The ice dragon shot into the air, a glittering rocket. Qwystanak spit fire but it only fluttered in the white dragon’s wake. Even wobbling because of his injured wing, the smaller dragon’s speed impressed.

“How do you feel, Akolo?” Ezer asked, riding a current higher.

“Like I fought a dragon.”

Ezer heard the smile in the boy’s tone. He would recover. All would be well.

If this plan worked, the battle would soon end.