Free Rage of the Dragon by Margaret Weis Page A

dragonship was cursed and they should set it on fire and destroy it. The godlord—perhaps picturing himself returning home in triumph aboard the captured Venjekar —wanted to seize the ship. The godlord had no objection to killing Skylan and his people, but he wanted their ship.
    Skylan picked up his sword and buckled it on.
    “Skylan, look!” Aylaen cried.
    The wooden dragon’s head had changed into a living, breathing head. Carved scales, their paint worn and faded, glittered and sparkled brilliant green-blue in the sunshine. The mouth—open in a perpetual fang-revealing snarl—roared defiance. The dragon and the Venjekar were one.
    “Brace yourselves!” Skylan shouted, grabbing hold of the mast. The Venjekar swung around and surged ahead, leaping over the ocean, the white foam churning beneath the keel, the white-tipped waves breaking over the bow.
    The ogres were astounded by the ship’s transformation from boat to dragon. A few flung their spears, but they fell harmlessly into the water. Then one ogre cried out and soon the others were roaring. They had spotted Sigurd in the ogre vessel. Having no way of knowing that this ogre ship wasn’t being manned by ogres, the godlord must be thinking his odds had improved. He began issuing orders. His ship veered round to catch the wind, the sail billowed. The godlord was determined to gain himself a dragonship.
    Skylan would have to deal with the ogres eventually. But now, one foe at a time.
    With the Venjekar sailing under the dragon’s control, Skylan hoisted up the useless rudder and stowed it on the deck, then went over to Acronis, who had resumed watching Raegar’s ship. Acronis offered Skylan the spyglass. Skylan shook his head. He had tried looking into that glass and had been shocked when people who were far away suddenly leaped right in front him. He considered it unnatural.
    “What’s Raegar doing?” Skylan asked.
    “Watching us,” Acronis reported. “And chasing after Sigurd.”
    “And Sigurd?”
    Acronis shifted the spyglass. He shook his head. “He’s doing his best, but ogre ships were not built for speed.”
    “Do we have enough speed to stop Raegar before he reaches Sigurd’s ship?”
    Acronis smiled. “I’ve never sailed with a dragon before. I find the experience exhilarating, but it’s throwing off my calculations.”
    He squinted, gazing out over the shimmering waves, measuring the distance with his eyes. “Yes, I think we will be able to reach Raegar before he reaches your friends.” Acronis lowered the glass and chuckled. “Sailing with a dragon. I cannot wait to tell Chloe.”
    Reassured as to their chances of catching Raegar, Skylan looked back at the ogre ship. The ogres were falling behind, but they were still coming. That godlord was persistent. The shaman shook his fist and yelled something. Skylan, remembering the magic spell the shaman had cast on him, felt his skin crawl. He hoped they were too far for the magic to have any effect.
    He watched the race, dragon against dragon. The two ships bounded over the waves. He could see for himself now that the Venjekar was gaining. For the moment, there was nothing to do except trust in Kahg. Aylaen cast a glance at him that seemed to invite him to come join her where she stood at the bow. The wind blew her hair back from her face. Her lips were parted, her eyes shining. Wulfe was beside her, leaning over the rail, shouting at the waves.
    Skylan walked over to Aylaen. She moved closer to him. More nervous than he’d ever been standing in the shield wall, facing death, he held her hand. In the past she would have been offended, drawn away, made some caustic remark. Her cheeks flushed. She gave his hand a brief squeeze.
    “If I died this moment,” Skylan said, “I would go to Torval’s Hall happy.”
    Aylaen’s eyes darkened, changing in an instant from warm green to frozen gray. She stalked off, moving to the other side of the dragon.
    Skylan stared after her, blinking in