Chapter 4 is titled "Flight," which opens in the most tackily decorated war room ever:
The war room was the size of a cathedral, the towering roof supported by a forest of white columns. High-arched windows opened onto broad balconies that overlooked the kingdom. A rainbow of tapestries covered the walls, embroidered with scenes from Albekizan's unparalleled reign. One tapestry portrayed a youthful Albekizan, standing in triumph on the corpse of his father. Nearby was Albekizan in ceremonial gold armor, leading his armies to victory against the cannibal dragons of the once notorious Dismal Isles. It had been the first in a string of triumphs against the smaller kingdoms that had once ringed the land. While the tapestries caught the eye with their bright colors, the most arresting feature of the room was the gleaming marble floor, inlaid with colored stone, precious metals and gems into an elaborate map of the world. Zanzeroth, Metron, and Kanst waited for the king within the vast space.
Huh... when I think of a war room, I usually think of something along these lines:
It's not weird that I can like both Dr. Strangelove and silly
movies like Wayne's World and UHF, is it? Or at least a good weird...
Dictionary.com defines a "war room" as "a room at a military headquarters in which strategy is planned and current battle situations are monitored," or "any room of similar function." When I think of a war room, I think of a big conference room with maps and such, but nothing enormously fancy and blinged up. What's described in the chapter opening is NOT a war room -- it's a glorified throne room. The only thing in this room that can be of any use is the map of the world on the floor, and even THAT is kind of useless for any actual planning function when it's made out of freaking gems and gold.
Also, inlaying the floor with gold and gemstones is a stupid move -- unless there's some sort of protective layer over them, both gemstones and soft metals like gold and silver are going to get scratched all to heck from being stepped on. Either the dragons have more wealth than brains (possible given what we know about them so far), or the author didn't think this through.
Zanzie's crouching on the world map, "his belly covering the spot on which the palace rested" -- I have no idea if this is supposed to be symbolic of anything or not, the text doesn't elaborate on this further. He remarks to himself that the map is inaccurate -- the only section of the world it covers is Azkaban's kingdom, and the king himself declares that no lands exist beyond his kingdom. But Zanzie knows better, as he did a lot of exploring in his younger years and has found lands far beyond their own kingdom.
If Albekizan didn't rule a place he deemed it did not exist. For many years Zanzeroth had thought this a harmless quirk of the king's ego. Now he wondered if the king's blindness to reality would lead them all to doom.
Of course, because our dragons are not only evil, they're Stupid Evil. Because why give them common sense when you can just make them horribly ignorant and villainous?
Two other dragons are talking across the room -- Metron the High Biologian and Kanst, the military leader. Zanzie cocks his head to listen, spots one of his feather-scales that's fallen out, and starts moaning to himself about how he's getting too old and is falling apart. He also takes a moment to judge Kanst.
Kanst was an enormous bull of a dragon, heavy and squat. He wore steel armor polished to a mirrored finish that was unblemished by any actual blow from a weapon. Albekizan liked Kanst, which to Zanzeroth spoke ill of the king. Kanst was all bluster and polish. The king had a bad habit of surrounding himself with advisors who were more show than substance. Kanst and Vendevorex were the two best examples.
Kanst is griping about Bodiel being dead and Shandrazel not having "the thirst for blood that's necessary for victory." Remember Shan? The king's other son who refused to hunt for humans? Is it me or do way too many fantasy books feel that they have to pack in Load and Loads of Characters in order to be proper "epic fantasies?" If you don't bother to flesh any of these characters out, having lots of characters doesn't make an epic fantasy -- it makes a chore for the reader who's tasked with having to keep them all straight. Lots of characters isn't necessarily a BAD thing, but you have to be careful with it or you can easily overpack the cast and overwhelm the reader.
Admit it, can you even name half of these?
Kanst not-so-subtly hints that Avada Kedavra needs to turn the kingdom over to someone capable of running it. Metron tells him to shut up, but I smell a Starscream wannabe here...
Yes, any excuse to throw a Transformers image
into the spork...
Kanst insists that it's too late for Afghanistan to father another son who'll be mature enough to take the throne when he dies. Metron counters that the king has plenty of time, but Zanzie insists that age DOES matter and that experience can't trump youth. This conversation better serve a purpose, but I get the feeling it's been inserted here just to pad out the page count.
King Alakazam and a retinue of guards storm into the blinged-up war room at that moment, cutting off that conversation and turning the matter to Bitterwood. Metron tells the king that he did his research and apparently Bitterwood was the leader of a human rebellion twenty years ago and "preached a vile philosophy of genocide against all dragons," but the rebels were all killed and the man they're facing must be some random nutcase taking on his name to make a statement. Probably the wrong answer, but at least it's a logical one...
The king insists that it has to be Bitterwood because only Bitterwood fletches his arrows with dragon scales instead of bird feathers. Um... this is kind of stupid logic. Wouldn't a copycat be trying to mimic his hero by doing the same? And to his credit, Metron points out the same thing, saying dragons shed their scales all the time and humans can easily pick them up to make use of them. (Zanzie gets a paragraph of angsting over all his scales falling out here, because apparently we're supposed to find him sympathetic, I guess? Which is useless because... um, you'll find out.)
"No," Albekizan said. "I am certain that one being, be he man or ghost, is responsible. I've seen him with my own eyes."
Now it was the king's words that tortured Zanzeroth as he realized he would never see anything with his eyes again.
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...
For the love of Unicorn, Zanzie, STOP. FREAKING. WHINING. What is the point of this? Are we supposed to feel sorry for the pink dragon? Is this Maxey's way of trying to get us to sympathize with him and find him a likable character? Let me tell you, it doesn't work. You get the reader to like a character by actually giving them decent characterization, not by dumping tragedy on them in a desperate attempt to get the reader to feel sorry for them. Stop with the Wangst and actually flesh these characters out!
Alabama reveals his plan for destroying Bitterwood... and it's a doozy.
"...I am not blind to the possibility that other humans assist Bitterwood," Albekizan said. "That's why I've called you here. Together, we will remove the stench of humans from my kingdom forever. I've tolerated their kind far too long. They breed like rats. Their dung-encrusted villages spread disease. They create nuisance by leeching off dragons as beggars and thieves. Now their greatest crime of all: They give shelter to Bitterwood. We must eliminate every last safe harbor for the villain. We can only be certain of victory over Bitterwood when all the humans are dead."
...welp. Nice job breaking it, Bitterwood. Your vendetta against dragons has just doomed humankind to extinction. Way to go, buddy. Why are you the hero again?
Zanzie, Metron, and Kanst just stare at Alakazoo at this announcement... until someone else speaks up.
"Respectfully, Sire," said a voice from the empty air Zanzeroth watched, "you've gone quite mad."
In a spot a yard away from the suspicious voice, the air began to spark and swirl. The sparks fell away like a veil to reveal a sky-dragon, his wings pierced with diamond studs, sparkling like stars against his blue scales. Light gleamed from his silver skullcap. His eyes were narrowed into a scowl of disapproval. Vendevorex, Master of the Invisible, had made his grand arrival.
Vortex, you drama queen...
Vortex, like Metron, tries to interject some logic into the discussion. He points out that humans do the vast majority of the labor for the kingdom, as they're kept as servants and slaves everywhere, and no dragon is going to want to tend his own crops or clean his own castle. Alalala-whatever retorts that "Bitterwood could hide among them for years" but "if all die, he dies." Yeesh, kind of overkill, don't you think, buddy?
Vortex further points out that killing off all humans will stir up rebellion among the dragons who keep them as pets or depend on them for slave labor. Alligator replies that he plans to unite the dragons by... convincing them that they evolved as the master race, while human religions teach that they were created separately from other species, and that if humans aren't part of natural law, they should be treated like parasites. Um... what?
This is kind of weird logic, and I doubt it's going to convince many dragons to give up their human servants and pets. And it's just weird in the book. Is Maxey making some kind of dig against organized religion? Is he pointing out that dragons disdain human religion and so are evil? What is even going on here?
Vortex further insists that humans vastly outnumber dragons, and if the king sets out to destroy them, they can easily unite against the dragons and wipe them out -- as he puts it, "you will face an army of Bitterwoods." Logical enough... but then, our good friend Alabaster isn't really proving himself willing to listen to logic.
Alakazam tells Vortex that his job will be to find a way to wipe out the humans without bloodshed, such as a plague or a poison. Vortex refuses, and tries to appeal to the others, asking them to "stand for truth." Zanzie speaks up at this point.
"Sire, let me be blunt. I don't believe Bitterwood to be beyond our grasp. You called off the hunt too early. His trail may yet be warm. This genocide you dream of is unnecessary. That said, what do I care if humans are slaughtered? I've killed so many for sport, I can hardly object on moral grounds. If it is to be war, Sire, I stand beside you."
Aaaaaaaaaaand if we were supposed to sympathize with Zanzie here, Maxey just failed. Also, Zanzie's reasoning for joining the war against humans is pretty weak -- "oh, I've killed humans already, so there's no point in trying not to anymore." Geez...
Vortex insists he wants no part of this. The king tells him he's sent his guards to lock up Jandra, his human apprentice, and Vortex has a choice of assisting the king or letting her die with the rest of the humans in the castle. Vortex screams that the king'll regret this, and the king orders his guards to chain him up. Um... is trying to arrest a wizard by mundane means really that good an idea?
Evidently not -- Vortex turns the guards' weapons to ash, and the guards try to dogpile him. Zanzie throws a knife, but it just hits the wall... and when the guards stand up, it turns out they've just torn apart one of their own number and Vortex has disappeared. The king orders him found, and Metron drops a piece of foreshadowing so blatant it almost counts as a spoiler alert:
"If he survives, I fear he could prove quite a powerful figurehead for a human resistance," said Metron.
Foreshadowing is a good tool for hinting at future events and ramping up suspense, and can be done very cleverly in fiction... but if handled poorly, it can result in clumsy writing and even give away major plot points way too early. This line was a bad example of foreshadowing, in my opinion, and doesn't so much hint at future events but pounds them into the reader with the force of a sledgehammer.
Zanzie picks up his blade and sniffs it... and smells blood. He knows it has to be Vortex's because "no other blood would smell of lightning." Dos lightning even have a smell? I have no idea...
Obligatory dragon picture
Zanzeroth felt confident he could find the escaped wizard in short order, but on a deeper level he felt a certain satisfaction in letting the wizard go, for now. The king had created this mess by placing his trust in such a fool for so long. Let Albekizan deal with the consequences.
So much for loyalty to the king, eh? This was probably tossed in to, again, make us slightly sympathetic toward Zanzie, but it's really not working for me...
Atchoo orders Jandra killed... then orders the guards to go to the dungeons and bring him someone called Blasphet. Everyone gapes at him, and Metron even tries to protest this move, but Avada-Kedavra's insistent.
"I've given my order. Despite his deeds I've kept Blasphet alive for a day such as this. No dragon that ever lived has more of a genius for killing. Bring him to me. Bring me the Murder God."
Seems appropriate
After THAT Name To Run Away From Really Fast, we get a page break. I guess we'll find out more about Blasphet later...
We cut to a "star-shaped room," which seems like a really impractical shape for a room but whatever, dragon architecture makes no sense anymore. Jandra's reading a book on snails, knowing that Vortex just assigned it to her to keep her busy and out of trouble, but there's a knock on the door and she goes to answer it, figuring it's a human servant wanting some kind of potion or charm. As you probably expect by now, it's not.
Four earth-dragon guards grab Jandra and haul her off. She hears human screams and figures the guards are rounding everyone up for some reason, but makes no move to escape. Um... you're a wizard's apprentice, girl? At least try for SOME spot of self-preservation here?
She's shoved into a cell in another tower and the guards lock her in. She goes to the barred window and sees a courtyard where all the human servants are being gathered up... and a chopping block where Ruth, her servant friend from earlier, is about to be beheaded. Uh-oh...
(A brief break from the horror here -- what's up with the human names in this book? The dragon names range from okay to just plain silly, but the humans seem split between silly names like Recanna and Bant and Tulk, and normal names like Ruth and Mary. Why do some humans get perfectly ordinary names and others get names that sound like cavemen?)
Jandra screams for the executioner to stop, but Mary shouts at her to look away. So Jandra gets to hear but not see her two best friends get the ax. Just to hammer home how horribly EVUHL our dragons are...
Jandra starts to cry... but stops when she hears scraping. Vortex has gone invisible and is climbing up the wall to get to her cell. Dude, you have wings, why can't you just fly up?
Vortex uses his magic to blow a hole in the wall, Jandra uses her own magic to fill the room with fog to distract the guards, then she hops onto his back and they fly away. Jandra fusses over a wound in Vortex's cheek, but he insists they'll tend to it when they get to safety.
There's something of an action sequence where they're being chased by sky-dragon guards and crash-land in the forest -- it's not terribly exciting, except it does point out that apparently it's very difficult to fly and be invisible at the same time. Which at least explains why Vortex didn't just fly up to her window to rescue her, I guess. We do get this lovely bit, however, when they land and a guard follows them down...
From the thin air before her came a muffled cry of pain and the sickening smell of burning flesh... Vendevorex allowed his circle of invisibility to break apart. He stood ten feet away with the body of the aerial guard at his feet. The guard clawed helplessly at his jaws, emitting small, muffled grunts through his flared nostrils. The skin around his mouth was melted together. Large talon-shaped holes had been burned into his wings; he would never fly again.
Holy freak, Vortex...
"When your brothers find you and cut your mouth open, I want you to give them a message for me," Vendevorex growled. His eyes glowed as if lit by an internal sun. "My decision to run should not be interpreted as a sign that I am weak or defenseless. Anyone who attempts pursuit will face a fate much worse than yours. If I didn't want you to tell your brothers this, I would have killed you already. You live only because you retain this slight usefulness to me."
The guard rolled to his back on the rocky bank, still clawing at his immobile mouth. Jandra turned away, feeling sick.
Yeah, I don't freaking blame you, girl! I was starting to like Vortex here, but geez... this was sadistic. It's like we can't have ANY dragons who are slightly sympathetic. Because if Vortex is this brutal to a fellow dragon, who's to say he won't do something similar to a human?
He announces to Jandra they're going to Richmond -- um, maybe announce that AFTER you're out of the guard's earshot? -- and they run off. And end chapter.
So we've established that all our dragons are evil, sadistic, idiots, or some mix of both, and our humans are either not any better than the dragons or are complete wet blankets. This book is a shining example of the Eight Deadly Words -- the point in certain media where you just look up and say "I don't care what happens to these people." When a writer either makes everyone involved a despicable character or doesn't bother to develop characters at all, it makes it very hard to stay invested in the writing. And at this point I find myself not caring for Bitterwood, Jandra, Vortex, or anyone involved. So why do I keep reading this?
Oh yeah, because I'm riffing on it. I hope people are at least laughing a little bit, or if nothing else suffering along with me...
