Serpent of the Abyss by S.J. Sanders
Chapter 42
Slengral snarled as he threw himself against the dome, his wings beating and scraping as he dug his claws against the surface. For two nights, he had accomplished nothing, and his failure made his blood rage. Nothing except giving the humans a regular target to attack.
Growling, he folded his wings and dodged another net, but barely changed directions in time to avoid the blast of red fire streaking through the sky. The heat of it singed his hip, sending agony through his tail. Clenching his jaw, he hissed and pushed back the pain. Pain was good, it kept him sharp and motivated, and it was a constant reminder that his mate could be somewhere within the dome suffering.
Another blast sent him winging further from the colony, a frustrated growl rising in his throat. Stretching his wings, he circled out to a safer distance to rest, his eyes narrowing on the rounded shell below him. It glittered as the last rays of the setting suns reflected off it. Lori would have found the sight pretty, even if the foolish humans were shooting at them. As usual, the thought of her produced a hard lump in his throat. His chest rattled with a low, mournful hum before he suppressed it. Humans shouting as they swarmed like barlisks outside their nest annoyed him.
Catching another current of air, he spread his wings wide, soaring higher as he began to circle in preparation for another strike. As his right wing dipped and his body curved in the air, a shadow rose at his flank. It rose so suddenly that he jerked from his flight path. His pulse shot up, his hearts hammering. He could not attack on two fronts!
With an angry shriek, he spun in midflight to face the potential threat.
The shadow rose higher, the continuous roll of thunder accompanying it as a large plume of a sand cloud churned toward him. Slengral’s eyes widened. The cloud sprayed up to great heights that seemed to match the furor of the thunder accompanying it. He had never heard anything of the sort, not even during the worst storms in the wet season, nor had he seen a sand cloud of such size. He craned his head toward it, his wings flapping just enough to keep him aloft as he eyed it apprehensively.
It was too big and too fast for him to outfly, that much he could determine immediately. It cut across the sand at speeds that could easily pace a rested Seshanamitesh. Against a worn male—there would be no chance. Nor was there a secure shelter anywhere nearby. All he had was the small outcropping of rocks where he had erroneously parted with Lori and allowed her to leave him.
Slengral detested the idea of returning to the rocks without her. He had refused to seek shelter there, even from the sun, preferring instead to burrow himself beneath the sand to escape it. Anything to avoid going back alone. It felt too much like surrender. Now, though it grieved him to admit it, he had no choice.
Shooting one last glare toward the colony, he felt a certain satisfaction in seeing the humans likewise forced to flee and seek shelter within their nest. Unable to resist, he let out a furious bark at them in a display of dominance before flattening his wings to speed toward the dark outcropping in the near distance. He could see the cloud roiling close to it, but he was certain that he could at least arrive there in time.
His protective inner lid descended over his eye, and he dropped low with the first touch of the outer sand plumes. These were sparse in sand, but it would be enough to irritate. Another plume rose, this with enough sand to score against his scales uncomfortably. He bit back a shriek of pain as the sand bit into his burn and angled his wings to drop down into the crevice within the rocks below him.
The relief was instant as he careened inside, his wings flapping wildly to slow his rapid descent. Releasing the pressure in the air pockets along his tail, he swung his tail down, the tip catching in the soft sand. He gave one last flap of his wings to steady himself before he dropped down into the sand and drew his wings up protectively around him. It would be little protection against the winds and sands that might pierce his hiding spot. All the same, he dug his claws into the nearby stone, his determination to stay alive mounting. He had to stay alive for Lori!
His muscles locked as the storm drew overhead, a tremble rushing through them. He could feel the wind and sand dropping down into his meager shelter. Something impacted the sand behind him and he snapped his tail up around him to leave it less exposed to falling rocks. The wind screamed everywhere at once, singing to him of his doom as it shrieked with a hundred voices.
He was going to die.
A song of sorrow rose in his heart.
Lori. Ashlava, I have failed you.
“Slengral? What are you doing?”
The deep voice penetrated his grief and terror. The storms did not speak unless it was one of the deathly ones who had come to retrieve him. If so, he would ask to be reunited with his mate in the next life.
Something firm struck him hard, and Slengral’s wings instinctively snapped up so that he could whip around and defend himself. He slashed out with a snarl but was side swiped by the thick tail that came at him again. Flung onto his back, he stared up at the sand churning above the opening in the rocks. Two faces leaned over him, one smirking as the other scowled down at him.
He vaguely recognized the latter male, but Daskh’s unfriendly glare gladdened his heart.
“What are you doing?” the male repeated, his voice even gruffer than before.
“The storm…” Slengral began. He shook his head, dazed. “How are you here through it?”
The other male broke out in loud laughter, the sharp sound making Slengral want to strike him. He hissed with promised violence, which the stranger all but ignored except to back up with a placating gesture. Daskh’s mouth hiked up at the corner before he leaned down to grip Slengral’s arm and haul him upright.
“This is not a storm dangerous to us,” Daskh rumbled. “It is a storm of Seshanamitesh strength that will help us free our mate.” He glanced around. “And Kehtal, I assume, since he is not here.”
“He was captured,” Slengral confirmed. With the next heartbeat, his eyes narrowed. “And what do you mean speaking of ‘our mate?’ There is no ‘our,’ only mine,” he hissed.
To his surprise, Daskh did not break eye contact nor lower his head in submission in recognition of Slengral’s claim as Lori’s mate. The large male’s jaw tightened, and he drew himself up to a massive height, his enormous wings fanning out on either side of him.
“It is the way with human mates,” the male snapped. “All of the other nests are doing this to better care for them. Ehsash can verify.” Slengral blinked when he recognized the other male whose grin widened with Daskh’s words. “I have fed and sheltered Lori. I have provided for her needs as well as those of Hashal. I even made certain to find him care so that I could come for my female. I will face danger for her. I will not be denied by you my right to court her as a mate.”
“Impossible,” Slengral hissed. “No Seshanamitesh male has ever shared a mate, and it will not begin with me.”
“It has already begun,” Daskh snarled. “You said yourself that that you saw males hunting mates in groups.”
Ehsash nodded in the distinctly human way that Slengral had not seen any other male do outside of those in his nest.
“You have been relying on other males to help you with your mate. There is no shame in that. Other males discovered this necessity with the females they have rescued. They banded together as nest brothers and found it beneficial for all, especially the females who need that extra care. It is out of love for their mates that they come together.” He cocked his head. “Just as it is for the sake of their mates that they are here now, over two hundred males fighting for your mate.”
“Two hundred.” Slengral’s eyes widened as he lifted them to the whirling sand above.
“Two hundred and twenty,” Daskh confirmed, his brow dipping unpleasantly. “Will you fly with us, and fight with us to free our mate? Or do you prefer to protect her alone?”
Slengral gritted his teeth, his body vibrating with tension. His friend’s point was not lost upon him, as much as it infuriated him to admit. He had always needed them. He had been incapable of properly caring for her in their harsh world alone.
With a snarl, he yanked free his velkat from its harness and stretched his wings wide. “Together then,” he hissed.
A triumphant grin stretched Daskh’s face, and he nodded, freeing his own velkat.
“Together.”
Wings flapping, they ascended, shooting up into the whirling red cloud. Slengral was disoriented for a moment, even with his inner lid protectively covering his eyes. Then he was enfolded into the heart of it and saw the sheer numbers of Seshanamitesh all around him, their wings furiously beating, their battle cries filling the air. His hearts leaped, and he added his voice to theirs as they winged across the sands toward the colony.
They descended like a black cloud in their fury. Velkats and claws struck the dome. Wings and bodies beat against it, eliciting sounds of panic and terror from within. Large metal poles that he had been unable to topple alone came crashing down. The glow within the colony extinguished, and screams from within rose at their renewed their efforts to break through.
When an eerie green light filled the dome, it cast everything, including him and his brethren, in a terrible glow. He knew that that they looked monstrous, like the creatures of nestlings’ nightmares, and he delighted in that. He wanted to strike fear into Lori’s captors and into all of Seshana’s defilers. He would strip this place from them and make it his own.
Letting out a savage bark, he renewed his attack, drawing with him those at his side as they plummeted to the colony. He was determined to break through. He would break through.
Somewhere there was a crack.
He shrieked with triumph and shot forward amid the black cloud of male bodies descending.