Revelations of Darkened Souls is the sequel to A Journey of Dragons. What follows is a scene that is inspiring quite a bit of artwork, including the cover for the new book.

A bit of background: Three women — the humans Alanora and Zarah, and their dwarven friend, Kalinda — have escaped from a research facility operated by the Theorists, an autocratic group of dwarves who use steampunk-like technologies. To escape, the women commandeered an experimental steam-powered aircraft; they are now being pursued by their enemies…

Alanora fired another short burst. With a satisfied grin, she watched another Theorist flyer spin toward the rectangular fields below. “I think I’m getting the hang of this!” she yelled to her companions.

Hot metal clanged; sparks exploded; the weapon shattered; steam whistled and spewed. Alanora screamed, falling to the floor of the aircraft, leaning against its side, rocking, holding her left hand by the wrist. The flesh was bright red with white streaks of hanging skin. She barely noticed when Zarah crawled through the fuselage to her side.

Another series of impacts shook the aircraft. In the front cockpit, Kalinda brought the plane into a slow turn, the engines trailing steam and other fluids. The craft bucked, shuddered, and swayed. The stick jerked from the dwarf’s hand, and the nose pointed straight downward, toward the trees, spinning wildly. Zarah embraced Alanora, burying her face in the other woman’s shoulder. Kalinda yelled something neither of them could hear. Alanora waited for the impact, wondering what it would feel like.

The hairs on her arm prickled and began to dance.

The shudders and vibrations changed in subtle ways; the forces pressing the women into the side of the fuselage abated. Alanora’s stomach complained less, and she noticed her wounded hand more. Looking through the cockpit hole above, she saw the clouds slowly stop spinning. Then trees came into view; a series of impacts and bumps shook them. There was silence, and stillness.

A blue dragon’s head appeared. Kyazura’s enormous eyes glowed, and so did Alanora’s injured hand. The pain faded, not completely, but enough so that it was no longer overwhelming.

The aircraft moved again, but only slightly. Beneath the dragon’s head, Kalinda’s face appeared. Dark blood ran down her cheek from a nasty cut across her scalp.

“I didn’t know you were hurt!” said the dwarf anxiously.

“I’m not dead,” Alanora replied. “Where are the Theorist aircraft?” She struggled to her feet with the aid of Zarah, surprised at how strong the slight girl was — and embarrassed at how much she needed the help.

Alanora wondered if anyone had ever witnessed a battle such as the one unfolding overhead. A dozen brightly-colored machines trailed white steam, dancing with blue dragons against twilight clouds and sky; the setting sun flashed against scales, metal, and glass. She’d never seen so many dragons in one place at one time, all performing extraordinary acrobatics amid their mechanical enemies — impossible turns, rapid spins, dramatic dives, and rolling loops, far above the ground in a mad dance of war. A large dragon launched a blast of blue plasma into a dwarven aircraft, sending it crashing to the mountainside, a cloud of smoke and debris marking the grave of his foe. The devastating beauty of it all fascinated her, and she forgot her seared hand.

One of the mid-sized dragons was caught between two aircraft, bellowing in pain as it was bombarded by their projectiles. The great reptile wavered, almost falling; two of its comrades arrived, destroying the enemies with deadly efficiency. Then they began escorting their wounded relative away from the fight.

“I must go,” said Kyazura, leaping into the air, joining another elder, one even larger than she: her primary consort, Karfegren. Alanora watched, remembering the joyous reunion flight of Symurall with his mate Kahshiki; theirs had been a passionate embrace of long-separated lovers. What she saw now was something entirely different; Kyazura and Karfegren soared in artful violence, coming together, rolling as one into a pirouette, the air around them glowing, spikes of red flame fanning out from their energetic cloud. Moments later, the mountain was decorated with the smoldering corpses of more machines and their occupants.

Somehow, one Theorist pilots avoided the devastation, firing metal into the great male dragon. Breaking away from Kyazura, the blue-silver Karfegren flipped into a tight turn, slapping the craft with his tail, smashing it to pieces. The dragon grabbed the falling pilot, tearing the dwarf apart in his talons, casting the remains aside in a bloody spray. A roar of victory and anger split the early evening sky.

Alanora glanced at the two women next to her. Neither said anything, their eyes transfixed on the violence above. Moments later, dragons ruled the sky. Kyazura and her mate came to land nearby.

“One of them is escaping!” Zarah shouted, pointing to an aircraft limping away in the distance.

“Yes,” said Karfegren. “I want them to know we are coming.” He nodded toward the women in salute. “I do not believe we have met. I am Karfegren, father of Arrokka.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Zarah said.

“As are we all,” Karfegren replied. His silver eyes flash, sending shivers down Zarah’s spine. “I will ensure that our enemies will regret the murder of my daughter.” He looked at his mate. “Are these are the small ones you spoke of?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Kyazura. “They are as one of our own.”

“Then take them to safety,” Karfegren said. “When our revenge is complete, I will come to see you at this Caerelon you have spoken of. If it is peopled by ones such as these, it must indeed be a great city.” Regarding the women again, he asked, “Are any of your friends still in the research center?”

“No,” said Kalinda. She choked for a moment. “My brother Argrin… he died helping us escape.”

“I shall exact a price for both our losses,” stated Karfegren. For a moment, he studied the dwarven woman. “You are the daughter of Norgrim and Dorna, are you not?”

“I am,” Kalinda said proudly.

“You remind me of them,” Karfegren said. “When this over, I shall write a ballad in honor of you and your companions.” He suddenly launched into the air, joining the dragons already there, leading his flight westward.

Copyright 2010 Scott Robert Ladd. All Rights Reserved.