The Red Wings of Baron lorded over the skies in their towering airships, but too sturdy a deck underfoot had always made Kain restless. He preferred having the wind at his heels as he flew astride his dragon, Deist. Yet man and beast suffered themselves to be ferried around when duty called them far from home to the blasted corners of the realm.
Kain stood in the doorway of the captain's cabin, grateful for the warmth of the coal brazier glowing in the corner. "Surely, His Majesty has others in his service better suited to the study of inclement weather," he said. He didn't bother to conceal the incredulity in his tone, not while he was addressing his closest friend and equal.
Lord Captain Cecil Harvey shrugged almost apologetically. "His Majesty believes there is sorcery at work," he explained, his brows furrowing. "By all accounts I've heard, the storm behaves unnaturally - appearing out of season, from out of nowhere, only striking at night, and moving against the wind. What's more, mariners who've been caught in the storm at sea claim to have heard the sound of a witch's voice as it passes over."
Kain had never put much stock in sailors' stories, himself. "And what would His Majesty have me do?" he asked.
"Search and destroy, as always," Cecil answered. "You and Deist are the only ones whose skill he trusts to fly into the eye of a storm like this."
Right, Kain thought, and it has nothing to do with not wanting to risk his proud airships on such a chancy errand. But he kept silent, taking up his spear and flexing his fingers against the cold.
As he turned to depart, Cecil tossed him a vial of elixir. "Gods protect you, old friend," Cecil said, smiling. "I'd hate to have to tell Rosa that something had happened to you."
Kain caught it deftly and stared at the other man, wondering whether there had been something smug in the remark, but Cecil's eyes were as clear and guileless as ever. With a gruff nod, Kain took his leave.
Outside on deck, Kain lowered the visor of his helm and called out to Deist, who was sunning herself close by. The dragon spread her great leathery wings in answer, eyes glittering with anticipation of the hunt.
Kain glanced out over the ship's rail as he strapped his small shield to his arm. The clouds parted for a moment to reveal the river below, appearing as nothing more than a spidery blue vein in the pallid flesh of the earth. A dizzying altitude for most, he supposed, watching the hunched and wary way Cecil's men went about their tasks on the deck. Heights had never held any fear for Kain. As a boy, he had climbed to the top of Baron Castle's highest spire on nothing more than a childish dare. Rosa Farrell, her lovely face pinched with tears, had scolded him severely when she discovered where he had been, but he had been too giddy with adrenaline and the softness of her arms around his neck to mind.
Kain shoved those thoughts from his mind. He slung his spear over his shoulder and mounted up. "Let's go," he murmured, softly. Deist bounded over the railing, and a heartbeat later they were soaring, dragon and rider together.
Kain glanced at the rough map he had drawn in chalk on the inside of his shield. Their destination was Blackstone, the northernmost village along the more-or-less northerly trajectory the storm appeared to be taking across the realm. Cecil's Red Wings would be staying further south, to offer assistance to the latest settlement to be attacked. That left Kain to fly the last hundred miles or so on his own, which suited him just fine.
It was late afternoon by the time Blackstone appeared on the horizon, a dark smudge on the deep, snowy river valley in which it lay. As he came closer, its few mean buildings and its mining equipment came into view. So far removed from civilization, Blackstone had no other rationale for its existence than its close proximity to a coal deposit, and much coal was needed to power His Majesty's airforce. The villagers were rumoured to be as cold and hard as the rocks they wrested from the frozen ground.
Kain made a few passes over the village. Smoke curled from chimneys crowned by snow, and a few heavily bundled figures had gathered around the well, taking turns chipping away at the ice. It might be desolate, but it showed no signs of recent damage. The storm had not yet reached Blackstone.
By then petals of frost had bloomed on the burnished black steel of Kain's shield, and his bones ached with deep chill. Turning from the village, he guided Deist up towards the west shoulder of the valley, where a small grove of pine trees sheltered a rocky outcrop.
"We'll wait up here for a little while," he told Deist as they landed. Fire, he thought wearily, something to fight off the cold. A fire could also help draw the storm witch towards him, he surmised, if she actually existed. Dismounting into the snow, he used the blade of his spear to lop off an armload of low-hanging branches from the nearby copse. The wood, still green, gave off a great deal of smoke while it burned. So much the better.
Lulled by the warmth, Kain sat and peered out over the valley with hooded eyes. His shadow stretched longer and longer before him as the sun sank lower and lower behind him. The larger of the two moons had started to rise when he stood up to collect more firewood. As he stretched, he noticed Deist sniffing the breeze and appearing agitated. "What is it?" Kain whispered. Baring her teeth in reply, the dragon crept, cat-like, towards the cliff's edge. Kain snatched up his spear and followed her gaze up into the darkening sky.
A vortex of clouds was raging far above the valley, wreathed in lightning. Every flash illuminated for an instant the silhouette of a feminine shape moving within. "I'll be damned," Kain muttered. "Come on. Let's go drop in for a visit." He swung up onto Deist's back and held on tight as she took wing, climbing steeply. Under the roar of the wind, he could hear the witch chanting some inscrutable phrase over and over. The soft, zinging sibilants sent a shudder down his spine.
Once Deist had crested the storm clouds and leveled off her ascent, Kain spoke to her again. "I'll try to take her alive," he said. "Be ready to catch us both." Using his spear to aid his balance, he climbed to his feet on top of the dragon's back, then gazed down into the windless eye of the storm for his target.
The witch came suddenly into view, giving Kain an eyeful of her naked skin and long golden hair. Kain gasped as he thought of Rosa, and nearly stumbled. The witch's hands were clasped and raised over her head as if in feverish prayer. She opened her eyes and glanced up at him, a baleful smirk spreading across her face.
Kain fought hard to steady himself, biting his lower lip until he well-nigh tasted blood. Enemies of the realm are enemies of mine, he recited silently, and he dove through the air towards her, spear trained just above her bare breast -
The witch caught the blade in her bare hands.
Kain gave a yelp of surprise. He tried to wrench the spear away, but she tore it from him with ferocious strength, nearly ripping out his arms before he lost his grip. Suddenly bereft, his hands seized upon her neck as he tumbled forward and downward. He twisted around to look for Deist, saw that the dragon was already careening towards them, then glanced up to see the witch's lips begin to move. Cursing, Kain shifted his grip to one hand and swung his shield with all of his might. The frozen steel rang out bitterly as it smashed into the witch's jaw, sending shockwaves up his arm, but a heartbeat too late, the spellwords already hung in the air.
"Stone."
Deist roared in dismay as her wings shuddered and froze in position, a rigid shell forming over her scales and imprisoning her body. Unable to move, she quickly began to fall from the sky.
Oh gods be good, Kain thought, squeezing his eyes shut and willing away the urge to panic. He let go of the witch and let himself fall after his dragon.
The wind sang in his armor, its pitch changing subtly as he angled himself to better dive through the air. Drawing level with Deist was not difficult, yet he closed in warily, trying to avoid being struck senseless by one of her wings. Once he was within reach, he stretched out and grabbed onto her tail, then swung a leg over. Holding on with all four limbs, he began to shimmy his way towards her head. He drew a gold needle from a pouch at his side and plunged it into the back of her neck. The needle glowed white hot momentarily, then shattered into shards of light that coated dragon and rider both. A few anxious seconds later, Deist started to twitch and stir beneath him, the hard shell dissolving away into the wind.
Kain slumped in relief, then craned his neck upward to look for his opponent. He saw her streaking after him, still holding his spear. As their eyes met she grinned at him and thrust her empty palm forward. It began to fill with a spiraling light.
Kain's eyes widened. "Fly, fly, Deist!" he shouted urgently. The surface was rising up like a fist to meet them, the witch was closing in from behind, and they were still in uncontrolled free-fall. Slowly, haltingly, Deist opened her wings, and Kain felt hope rise in his chest as their momentum began to shift -
"Maelstrom."
Kain was never quite sure what had happened next, only that a blast of air slammed him from behind, hard enough to make him see stars, and that when he regained his senses he was sprawled on the ground and Deist was nowhere in sight. He staggered to his feet and saw the storm witch hovering before him.
"Well met, Kain Highwind," she breathed. Her voice was otherworldly, hundreds of sighs woven into a single wracking sound.
Kain swallowed hard. "Who are you, witch?" he demanded, hoarsely. He eyed the spear in her hands, tensing his muscles to make a lunge for it.
That seemed to amuse her. "I am no witch. I am Barbariccia, the archdemon of the wind, and you are sorely outmatched." She snapped his spear as if it were no more a piece of straw, and she threw aside the pieces, laughing. "But that neither surprises nor disappoints me." Drawing nearer to him, she removed his helm before he could react, and seized both of his hands before they could strike her. "I find your spirit is still something rather extraordinary."
Kain tried not to wince as he heard and felt his knuckles cracking under the pressure. "What would you have of me?" he spat through clenched teeth, fighting to come up with a plan, something, anything to solve his predicament. He was not all prepared for what happened next.
She leaned in and kissed him.
Kain tried to wrench himself away, but Barbariccia held him fast. An alien sense of powerlessness rose up in his throat and threatened to choke him. Though her grip was made of iron, her lips felt surprisingly soft against him. And in the sudden silence, he could hear the sound of her breathing and the way his own was growing faster.
She wasn't Rosa. She never could be. But she was there before him, his hands were drowning in hair the colour of sunlight, and he has willing to believe a lie.
Gods, he wanted to believe.
He began to respond to her. Seeming to sense it, she sighed excitedly against his lips and set his hands upon her skin. His breath caught in his chest at how warm she was. At how her body leaned into his touch. Growing delirious with longing, he whispered Rosa's name.
Barbariccia pulled away at once. A shadow of hurt passed across her face and quickly disappeared. "I see. You have another." Her mouth twisted in a cruel grin. "Ro-sa," she mocked, scornfully.
Awareness came late and painfully to Kain. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, and glared at her. "You have no right to speak of her!" he snapped, lashing out with the back of his hand.
Barbariccia simply laughed and evaded it with her unearthly speed. She hovered a few feet from him, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. "I think I underestimated your usefulness, Kain Highwind. We will certainly meet again." With a toss of her hair, she winked and flew away, soon becoming lost to sight among the bright northern stars.
Kain stared after her for a few moments, dumbfounded. Then he gasped sharply, drawing the vial of elixir from its pouch and setting off in search of his dragon.