Read Online The Order of the Scales by Stephen Deas - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephen Deas
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another and then changed his mind. Another dragon was coming in, straight at them. No time. He pulled down the fire shield and sent the scorpion back along its rail instead. A moment later the whole cave shook. Fire filled the air again. Meteroa closed his eyes and clutched his hands to his head against the sheer noise as the dragon roared. It must have been right at the mouth of the cave when it let loose.
The cave shook again, so hard that it almost knocked the scorpion off its rail. Meteroa staggered, grabbing at the fire shield, almost falling out into the cave. He had his visor down and could barely see. Gaizal fell sideways off the scorpion and disappeared. There was another roar. Meteroa slipped into the firing seat simply to steady himself. He looked sideways for Gaizal but that was a waste of time. Through tiny slits lined with blurred glass, he’d be lucky to see a dragon standing right in front of him. The world wasn’t bright though, which meant the flames were gone.
He lifted the visor. He could see Gaizal now, lying on the floor beside the scorpion. He was very still. His helmet had fallen off and he was staring wide-eyed at the mouth of the cave.
‘Bolt,’ he mouthed. Mechanically, Meteroa loaded another bolt into the scorpion. He lifted the fire shield up by a few inches and peered out.
There was a dragon right in front of him, its head and one clawed limb jammed in through the mouth of the cave, blocking the entrance, thrashing for purchase. The other two scorpions that had been in the cave were gone. It took Meteroa a moment to realise, but a substantial chunk of the cave was gone too.
‘Bolt,’ mouthed Gaizal again. The dragon wasn’t really looking at them. Meteroa could feel its rage growing every second. Is it stuck? He started to chuckle at the absurdity of it.
The dragon’s eye, the one that Meteroa could see, swivelled to look straight at him. Golden, the size of a man’s head, with a long vertical slit of a pupil, a thin black window to the dragon’s soul, it stared at him.
‘You are stuck, aren’t you?’ Meteroa threw back the fire shield and cranked the scorpion around. The dragon’s struggles grew more urgent. It lunged forward, trying to get at him. Stupid thing was still trying to get in , not out.
‘See now, if you were a hunting-dragon, that would have worked. But you’re not. You’re a war-dragon. Of course, if you were a hunting-dragon, you probably wouldn’t have got stuck in the first place.’ The scorpion was aimed straight at the dragon’s eye. The one weak spot. Meteroa fired. The dragon’s eye burst and a man’s height of barbed wood and steel buried itself in the monster’s head. All the struggles stopped. The dragon hung where it was, dangling by its head and claw for a moment. Meteroa tried to imagine how hard the dragon must have hit the cave to wedge itself in like that. Tried. Failed.
There was a cracking sound from the mouth of the cave and then a grinding, and then the dragon was gone, taking a chunk of the cave mouth with it. Meteroa couldn’t help himself. He reached out a hand, helped Gaizal to his feet and then walked to the edge and peered down, watching the dragon fall towards the ground.
‘I reckon that’s that for those scorpions,’ he said.
Gaizal stared beside him at the falling dragon. ‘You killed a dragon,’ he gasped, full of awe.
‘Yes.’ Meteroa frowned. ‘I suppose I did.’ Wasn’t this the sort of thing they made into stories? Although he wasn’t sure it would be much of one. What will it say? That the dragon walked up to within a dozen yards of my scorpion and then obligingly stood still for as long as it took for me to pick my spot and aim? Which is pretty much what happened. No, that won’t do.
The other thought which came along with the first was that he’d better keep Gaizal alive for long enough to start telling people a better one, otherwise no one would ever know.
‘Your Highness!’ The world suddenly
The cave shook again, so hard that it almost knocked the scorpion off its rail. Meteroa staggered, grabbing at the fire shield, almost falling out into the cave. He had his visor down and could barely see. Gaizal fell sideways off the scorpion and disappeared. There was another roar. Meteroa slipped into the firing seat simply to steady himself. He looked sideways for Gaizal but that was a waste of time. Through tiny slits lined with blurred glass, he’d be lucky to see a dragon standing right in front of him. The world wasn’t bright though, which meant the flames were gone.
He lifted the visor. He could see Gaizal now, lying on the floor beside the scorpion. He was very still. His helmet had fallen off and he was staring wide-eyed at the mouth of the cave.
‘Bolt,’ he mouthed. Mechanically, Meteroa loaded another bolt into the scorpion. He lifted the fire shield up by a few inches and peered out.
There was a dragon right in front of him, its head and one clawed limb jammed in through the mouth of the cave, blocking the entrance, thrashing for purchase. The other two scorpions that had been in the cave were gone. It took Meteroa a moment to realise, but a substantial chunk of the cave was gone too.
‘Bolt,’ mouthed Gaizal again. The dragon wasn’t really looking at them. Meteroa could feel its rage growing every second. Is it stuck? He started to chuckle at the absurdity of it.
The dragon’s eye, the one that Meteroa could see, swivelled to look straight at him. Golden, the size of a man’s head, with a long vertical slit of a pupil, a thin black window to the dragon’s soul, it stared at him.
‘You are stuck, aren’t you?’ Meteroa threw back the fire shield and cranked the scorpion around. The dragon’s struggles grew more urgent. It lunged forward, trying to get at him. Stupid thing was still trying to get in , not out.
‘See now, if you were a hunting-dragon, that would have worked. But you’re not. You’re a war-dragon. Of course, if you were a hunting-dragon, you probably wouldn’t have got stuck in the first place.’ The scorpion was aimed straight at the dragon’s eye. The one weak spot. Meteroa fired. The dragon’s eye burst and a man’s height of barbed wood and steel buried itself in the monster’s head. All the struggles stopped. The dragon hung where it was, dangling by its head and claw for a moment. Meteroa tried to imagine how hard the dragon must have hit the cave to wedge itself in like that. Tried. Failed.
There was a cracking sound from the mouth of the cave and then a grinding, and then the dragon was gone, taking a chunk of the cave mouth with it. Meteroa couldn’t help himself. He reached out a hand, helped Gaizal to his feet and then walked to the edge and peered down, watching the dragon fall towards the ground.
‘I reckon that’s that for those scorpions,’ he said.
Gaizal stared beside him at the falling dragon. ‘You killed a dragon,’ he gasped, full of awe.
‘Yes.’ Meteroa frowned. ‘I suppose I did.’ Wasn’t this the sort of thing they made into stories? Although he wasn’t sure it would be much of one. What will it say? That the dragon walked up to within a dozen yards of my scorpion and then obligingly stood still for as long as it took for me to pick my spot and aim? Which is pretty much what happened. No, that won’t do.
The other thought which came along with the first was that he’d better keep Gaizal alive for long enough to start telling people a better one, otherwise no one would ever know.
‘Your Highness!’ The world suddenly
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