Dragon Bonds (Return of the Darkening Series Book 3) (20 page)

* * *

W
e flew south for hours
, and I had to fight the urge to keep looking behind me to see if Thea was well. Of course she was, I told myself again and again. Kalax would tell me if she wasn’t.

We had agreed with Thorri that she and the Wildmen would head south as fast as they could. The Dragon Riders—who could fly much faster and further—would scout ahead. Hopefully, we could avoid running into any of the Darkening’s forces without a true army to help us. The dragons would help us find King Justin and the dragons with the Middle Kingdom army—I was just hoping the king’s army had grown, and that the king had not lost more troops to raids that might have gone against him.

By late afternoon, Kalax had become uneasy. I asked her what was wrong and she sent me back her thoughts.

Something wrong with the land.

Glancing around, I realized Kalax was right. No birds fluttered around the trees below us. No goats or sheep ran from the shadows of dragon wings. I couldn’t even recall seeing deer or other animals darting out or into the woods—and the few villages we had seen had been empty. The north was a barren land, but by now we should be starting to see more signs of life. Uneasy now, I turned back to Thea to see if she was sensing anything. She did look tense, I thought.

Before I could say anything to Thea, Kalax lifted her head, snuffed the air and looked to the southeast.

Dragons there.

I signaled to the others to head lower—we would have cover in the trees. And I asked the Wildmen riding Scratch and Hiss to fly ahead of everyone. The black dragons might help us to pass as just a group of wild dragons out for some raiding.

Kalax had only just skimmed over a mountain stream when Hiss gave a screech.

Beris shouted, “Attackers! Defend yourselves.”

I glanced to the southeast and saw a knot of black dragons flying toward us.

My throat tightened, and my heart started to hammer. The way these dragons flew—fast and straight, meant they weren’t just wild dragons, looking for easy prey.

“I see seven to our ten,” Thea shouted. I heard leather creak and knew she was already unslinging her bow. “We should fight.”

That was always Thea’s first choice, but she was right. I didn’t trust I could control that many dragons with my affinity. I could also feel Kalax’s surge of enthusiasm for Thea’s words—she was eager for battle.

I glanced back at Thea. “We can’t afford to lose anyone, but we also can’t let any escape to tell the Darkening of us.”

Thea gave a sharp nod and yelled, “Signal the others to fan out!”

I pulled out the flags and gave the signals. Merik took Feradima to the right with two of the wild dragons without riders. Syl took Gaxtal to the left, with Scratch, Hiss and one riderless wild dragon following him. I kept Kalax in the middle, so we could strike into the group of other dragons like the tip of an arrow.

Only it was not to be.

The wild dragons suddenly turned, rolling back and turning in the direction from which they had come. That kind of precision could only mean they were fully controlled by the Darkening.

“After them,” Thea yelled.

With a howl, Kalax flew up and then swept down on our prey. An echo of her ferociousness swept into me, setting my heart beating even faster.

Looking ahead, I saw the enemy dragons were leading us almost directly southeast, away from the mountains and back into the Middle Kingdom. That was Lord Vincent’s territory now.

“We’re close!” I shouted. “We can take them!”

Beris gave a whoop and a cry.

I knew then that we were all looking for a victory of any kind.

The dragon’s urge for battle—for a fight—swept into me, and for an instant I lost what was me and what was them. We skimmed over fields, meadows and woodland—the greens and browns blending into a blur, the wind and scents biting at me. I gave another yell—this was why dragons roared.

Thea shouted my name. With a blink, I pulled away from the dragon’s senses that had filled my mind.

Glancing at her, I saw her shaking her head and pointing up and toward the sun and a few clouds that hung in the sky.

For a moment, I saw nothing. But then the other dragons—not the blacks we were chasing but large Middle Kingdom dragons—came out of the clouds.

They seemed only dark smudges at first. An oily, smoky taste came to me on the wind. These were fighting dragons, I knew. And we were in trouble.

We’d been found by the dragons of the enemy.

Within minutes of us spotting them, the dragons turned and headed for us. Roars, shrieks and hisses filled the sky.

On one out of ten, I could see a rider. Metal armor like what we wore glinted in the late afternoon sunlight. I didn’t know if they were rogue dragon riders or Wildmen riders. But if we were facing other riders trained at the Academy, we were in for a fight.

Thea pointed at the incoming dragons and shouted to Beris and Varla, “The riders! Aim for the riders!”

Arrows flew toward us, along with spears. Kalax ducked and swooped, and then it seemed as if we were caught in a whirl of dragons—tails and wings and claws.

How many were there?

I tried to breathe and remember my training. I could hear the twang of Thea’s bow as she loosed arrows.

Dodging tail strikes and snapping jaws, I focused on trying to help Kalax to put Thea into positions where she could fight.

The sky had gone dark with dragons. Yells and shouts filled the air, along with dragon roars.

There’s no way that we can win.

I clung to Kalax as she dove again, twisted and flew low over the fields, destroying fences with her tail. Splinters shattered behind us, smacking into the snout of the closest enemy dragon. It spun away from us only for four more to sweep in after Kalax.

Kalax rose up into the sky again, and I tried to help her put the sun at her back. We had a view now of the battle below. Feradima was running from three dragons—a green and two blacks. I couldn’t see Scratch and Hiss or our other black dragons—maybe they were fighting or maybe they’d decided to hide in the woods below and to the north. I could hear Beris’ war cry above us and looked up to see Gaxtal hovering as Beris got off arrow after arrow. I could hear the cries of enemy riders as Beris’ arrows struck home.

Behind me, Thea gave a startled cry.

“Are you hit?” I shouted back at her. A large green dragon bore down on us, its eyes a milky white. I knew it must be caught under the magic of the Memory Stone. But I knew that green—the scar upon his shoulder. Glancing at its rider, I saw Thea’s brother Reynalt.

“Agathea!”
her brother bellowed.

He still wore his Dragon Rider helmet, but it looked scarred, the metal marked by twisted, barbed iron. “It doesn’t have to be this way, sister!”
he shouted at her as his green dragon hovered next to Kalax.

“Reynalt, you are not yourself!” Thea sighted down the shaft of an arrow pointed straight at her brother. “Lord Vincent has you under his control.”

I almost couldn’t bear to watch, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

Reynalt shook his head. “There can be only one winner in this. The Flammas will be on the side that matters. Join us and live, sister!” He was shouting down at her, his voice full of pleading.

Slowly, Thea lowered her bow. She loosened the string, letting the arrow tumble from her grasp to spin and disappear below us. Suddenly, I knew what she was thinking.

Staring at Reynalt, she shouted, “For Torvald…for freedom! For House Flamma!”

“No, Thea—wait,”
I shouted, but it was too late.

Thea thrust her hand into the pouch at her side and drew forth the King’s Dragon Stone.

For an instant, the stone seemed just dull, gray rock. But then sunlight glinted off the King’s Dragon Stone. It turned brilliant white, light slipping through Thea’s fingers, and power, as if a volcano had erupted, slammed into my chest.

M
y ears filled
with the sound of shrieking wind and screaming. Power spread through my body, tingling and sharp, leaving me unable to move. Around me, the sky seemed to flash white and then turned red as flame, as if the air itself had caught fire. White bolts shot from my hand, from the King’s Dragon Stone, sizzling and bright. And then a voice whispered in my head, seeming to come from the King’s Dragon Stone.

Fire consumes all.

Fire begat all.

Fire is the spark in the heart of the world.

Fire is the fury of battle.

The sensation of becoming something else…something larger, stretched through me. It was as if I had fallen asleep and had woken to a world of light. I could look down and see my arm holding the glowing stone, watching it pulse bright, white light in waves that crashed against all of us, against Reynalt and his green, against the mind-controlled wild dragons, against riders and Wildmen and even against the ground, striking into the hearts of everyone and everything within its reach.

Kalax gave a roar, stunned by the blast, but her shock seemed a far off thing. A gale whirled around me, but I was immune to the wind, to the force, to the fire. Dragons and their riders tumbled from the sky, but not me. The King’s Dragon Stone spread a glow around me, and again that odd voice echoed in my mind.

There is a fire that forges all bonds or melts them. Everything must pass through the fire if it is to be purified.

The gale that had sprung up from my hand grew hot as an east wind and fierce as dragon fire. My hand burned, but I couldn’t let go of the stone. I couldn’t stop the fire I’d unleashed.

I was with the fire at the heart of the world and it was in me.

I heard
Seb shouting and Kalax roared. But I could only stare at Reynalt on his green. My brother who had offered me a chance to join Lord Vincent. But it was not Reynalt making that offer—it was Lord Vincent, working through Reynalt.

Fury burned in me—in my heart—for such a thing.

Lord Vincent had worked his evil lies before into the ears of others—even into old King Durance, and even into King Justin. Through the flaming sky it was as if I could see Lord Vincent at the Winter Ball when last I’d seen him, smiling and dark, planning his treachery, working to bring down all I knew and loved.

Enough!

This was not my brother on the dragon hovering before me. And I would bring an end to the disgrace of House Flamma. One way or another, I would free my brother.

Closing my hand around the King’s Dragon Stone, I let loose the fire—and flew through the sky on bright, hot flame.

* * *

“
I
s she awake
?”

From a distance, the voice seemed to pull me from dreams of flying through fire on a wind so hot my lungs hurt with each breath. I opened my eyes a crack. The light stung my eyes and I closed them again.

It hurt to breath. Everything hurt—every inch of skin, every hair on my body and every last muscle. But beyond that, cool, sweet and blessedly calm night air brushed over my face.

Another voice chimed in. “Will she live?”

This time I recognized Seb’s voice. He was worrying over me. At least that was familiar.

“I don’t know. What she did—the magic she used was a lot stronger.” That sounded like Varla. I must be surrounded by my friends—at least they seemed to have survived the battle.

But where
was I? And where were Reynalt and the other dragons?

Struggling, I tried to move, but the heavy blankets seemed to weigh me down. A low moan broke from my lips.

“She’s waking!” Seb’s anxious voice filled the air.

Reynalt—I have to know what happened to him.

I meant to say the words but only managed another moan. It was as if my body was refusing to obey me.

Panic spread through me and knotted my stomach.

I thrashed at the blankets. I wasn’t in pain. In fact, a comforting numbness had settled in my bones, like the heat of a summer afternoon lethargy. But I didn’t want to be lulled back to sleep.

Easy, Thea-child
. Kalax’s thoughts settled into me.
Bodies must heal.

The connection with her seemed very strong, and I asked her,
Where am I? What’s wrong with me? What happened?

Her presence wrapped around me just as she might curl her body around mine on a cold night.

I suddenly sensed the mountain air, sharp and sweet with pine and the smell of wood fires. I could hear the Wildmen as they made their meals and talked quietly. By the noise they made, they seemed to have grown in number. The other dragons were out hunting their meals—I could feel their hunger and that they were dizzy and not quite right. All this came to me in an instant

Less goats here,
Kalax thought to me. She was allowing me to use her senses for a moment and letting me know the only important facts as far as she was concerned.

Somewhere, far away, someone was calling my name again, but I was drifting back into the warmth in my bones.

Sleep now,
Kalax advised.

Underneath everything else, I sensed a dark cloud of pain from Kalax and the other dragons, but Kalax was trying her best to conceal it. I pushed a little more and felt how one side of her body had been bruised as if she had fallen from a great height and her wings were also aching.

Oh Kalax! Are you well? Were you hurt from the battle?

Sleep will make all better.

I knew when Kalax was being evasive. She was in pain, but it wasn’t from the battle. It was from something I’d done.

T
he King’s Dragon Stone.

Stretching out my awareness. I couldn’t sense any of the wild dragons, other than Scratch and Hiss and two of the other wild blacks. Feradima and Gaxtal had suffered bruises and burns, and the wild dragons had broken bones that now had to heal.

What have I done?

My skin chilled and an ache seemed to tighten around my heart.

Enough.
Kalax’s annoyance came to me, clear and sharp.
Thea saved lives. We escaped. That matters. The magic is too powerful perhaps for humans.

Oh Kalax…I am so sorry.

Kalax pushed at my mind, forcing me back into my body. She also pulled her mind away from mine, locking her senses away from my awareness.

For a moment, I opened my eyes to see fire again—but this was a small campfire. Smoke rose from it in a thin, white column. Seb, Varla and Merik huddled around the campfire, all of them looking bruised, with their flying leathers tattered. Beris and Syl stood at the edges of the shadows of a clearing. Sleep was trying to claim me again, but I fought against it.

“We won.” I managed to say the words, but I heard them come out with a cracking, raspy voice that didn’t sound like me.

Seb came over to my side at once, the lines easing on his face as he bent over me. “Not quite, but close enough,” he said.

I gave a nod or tried to, and then I listened to Kalax and slept.

* * *

K
alax was indeed right
.

I woke the very next morning and almost felt like myself again. Whatever I’d done with the King’s Dragon Stone had left me drained, as if I was now recovering from a particularly strong bout of winter sickness. By midday, I was up and on my feet and getting worried glances from everyone.

They’d camped in the forest, letting thick, tall trees hide our small force. The Wildmen were keeping watch—they all seemed nervous around me now. I couldn’t blame them. The smell of food—one of Merik’s stews—pulled me to the fire. The Wildmen had been hunting and had added rabbit to the plants Merik and Varla had scavenged.

Sitting down by the fire, I ate three bowls. Syl and Beris were off tending to Gaxtal, Merik and Varla retreated to pour over the few scrolls and the old book Varla had recovered from the Academy—no doubt looking for information on how I, or they, could better control the King’s Dragon Stone. I doubted they’d find anything. That stone had been in the First Rider’s tomb for long, long years—and anyone who might ever have known how to use it had died in the first war with the Darkening.

Looking at Seb, who was still picking at his first bowl of stew, I asked, “How bad was it? At the battlefield, I mean.”

Seb winced and looked up from his uneaten stew. “Well, no deaths—or none that we know of. You blasted the wild black dragons closing in on us. As well as your brother and every other dragon in the sky. Feradima has a torn wing, but can still fly. If we’d stayed put, we might have all been torn to pieces.” He gave me a weak smile and a shrug. “You sure know how to pack a punch.”

“And the King’s Dragon Stone?” I asked. “What’s become of it?”

Seb shook his head. “It was—it was like nothing I have ever seen. It looked as though the stone and then your whole hand became lit by an inner fire. It grew so bright it was hard to even look at it—and then waves of light and wind seemed to course from it. Dragons were dropping from the sky. If it wasn’t for you losing consciousness and Kalax managing to get us to the ground without killing us—”

“Oh, Seb, I…I didn’t intend that. I just wanted…I wanted Reynalt to be free of Lord Vincent.”

Putting down his bowl, Seb picked up a stick and stirred the cooking fire. “At least we know the King’s Dragon Stone works.”

I glanced over at the Wildmen who were avoiding me now and then looked back at Seb. “What good is it, if it will destroy our own forces as well?”

“It gives us a chance.” Seb looked up from the fire and forced a grin. “You have to believe that things will get better. Maybe in the king’s hands it will be different—he is descended from the First Rider after all.”

I let out a long breath and wrapped my arms around myself. “You didn’t say where you put the…where you put it?”

“It’s safe. Back in your bag. I told you it didn’t do anything when I touched it, but no one else seems to want to get near it.” Seb frowned a little.

“Do we know where the king is yet?”

“No, but there have been rumors and Kalax said she can sense dragons at the southern end of the Dragon Spine Mountains.”

I shook my head. “We won’t know if those are friends or enemies—it’s all a mix. We’ll have to do better to find the king.” Seb didn’t answer, so I leaned forward and said, “What are we going to do if Lord Vincent has control of all of our dragons and riders? Lord Vincent has a lot to answer for.” Thinking of Reynalt, I sighed heavily. Had Ryan been turned as well?

Seb straightened. “Maybe King Justin and the last of the Dragon Riders went into hiding? They could be on the coast. All we have to do is find them.”

“Your optimism is hopeless. How are we going to do that if our dragons can’t tell an enemy from a friend anymore?”

“Slowly,” he admitted, with a crooked grin.

It was such a ridiculous thing to say that I found myself smiling. “You’re an idiot.” I punched his arm.

“But an idiot with a dragon. And a plan. We’ll go back to the Dragon Academy.”

Hands tightening into fists, I stared at him. “Are you mad? That is probably the center of Lord Vincent’s territory now.”

“And, as such, it is the very last place the Darkening will look for us. If Lord Vincent can make his dragons seem like friends to us, we can do the same to him. It is also one of the few places where we might be able to find out more about how to control the King’s Dragon Stone.” Standing, he turned to face the south. I rose as well and stood next to him. He bumped my shoulder with his and said, “We don’t need to lay siege to Torvald, but think about it for a second. Where else are we going to find out how to use this magic? Where else will we find any sort of defensible structures?”

“I should point out, Seb, that the Academy is half destroyed.”

“That is the operative word—half.
”
Seb put a hand on my shoulder. His touch seemed to help ground me. His voice dropped lower and he said, “We need shelter. We can sneak in. With black dragons and after the Wildmen show up, it’ll just look like forces of the Darkening moving into the Academy. And…well, we have to find out how to use the King’s Dragon Stone in a way that won’t kill everyone, right?” He looked at me, eyebrows lifted high and his brown eyes soft and shining.