Dragonseed by James Maxey Page A

sounding terrified.
    The earth-dragon growled as he pulled the axe free of the cold ground, brandishing it above his head to strike again. Jandra kept her eyes fixed on her attacker. As he swung, she rolled again, to the side of the blow. Earth-dragons were strong, but not especially fast, definitely not under a full load of armor. Jandra braced her back against the ground and kicked up with both feet, targeting the dragon’s elbow. Her feet connected with a satisfying crunch and the dragon hissed as its talon released the axe handle. The beast staggered back, pain flashing in its eyes. Just as quickly, the pain turned to rage. The dragon dropped his shield and lunged, his free talon aimed at Jandra’s face. Jandra again rolled away, using her momentum to spring to her feet as the earth-dragon landed with a clatter on the spot where she’d been.
    She leapt over his body before he could rise, grabbing the axe buried in the ground. The weapon was impractically heavy, probably fifty pounds. Before the genie tuned her body, there was no way she could have swung it. She spun around, letting momentum add to the strength of her swing. The dragon was raising his head as she sunk the axe into the back of his neck, just below the helmet. The force of the blow tore the weapon from her hand. She looked down, wincing at the large black splinter buried in her palm.
    The dragon collapsed, lifeless. Lizard skittered forward and poked the half-decapitated earth-dragon on the beak.
    “Not move?” he asked.
    “Not move,” she said.
    She turned as she heard footsteps behind her. It was Shay. He looked at the dead dragon, wide-eyed. “Are you all right? I heard a fight.”
    “I have a splinter,” she said, holding up her palm. Her words were drowned out by a loud crash from inside the tavern. Sparks shot from every window. The fire roared as the wind whipped it into an ever-growing fury. Jandra scooped up Lizard and cradled him against her breast as she ran toward the tunnel. Shay followed at her heels. Her eyes searched the shadows for any further sign of dragon-stragglers.
    “Thorny!” she yelled as she reached the tunnel doors. There was a small pile of clutter next to the tunnel, boxes full of tools, several round dials, their faces covered with numbers, plus stacks of notebooks, and vials of unrecognizable fluids.
    “Thorny!” Shay shouted, using his hands as a megaphone. No one answered.
    “Come on,” said Jandra, running down the tunnel. The doors at the end were closed, but reddish-orange light danced through the gaps. The air was distinctly smoky. Before they could approach the doors burst open, sending forth a blast of heat and a cloud of smoke. A tall, black-haired girl in buckskins with an old man slung over her shoulders marched out of the cloud.
    “Anza?” Shay asked. Anza gave a slight smirk, as if to ask who else he might have been expecting. Thorny coughed violently. Anza marched up the slope, breathing evenly. Her buckskins were splattered shoulder to ankle in blood, but as near as Jandra could determine, Anza didn’t have a scratch on her.
    “But… you were just in the street,” Shay said, following Anza. “How did…?”
    Behind them, there was another crash, and another wave of smoke gushed up the tunnel, hiding everything from view. Jandra found the tunnel wall and held her breath as she groped her way back toward fresh air. Behind her in Burke’s workshops, things began to pop and sizzle in small explosions. Over this noise came a series of powerful twangs as springs began to burst free of the braces that held them.
    Jandra made it outside and took a deep breath of the relatively clean air. She looked toward the tavern. Red hot iron rods six feet long were shooting up into the air, rising a hundred feet before they fell back toward the burning building, already losing their glow. The heat of the flames could be felt even here. The human villagers gathered around to gawk as the building began to