Dragon Bonds (Return of the Darkening Series Book 3) (21 page)

I could tell he was tired, too. Dark circles still stained his eyes, and he had hardly eaten any of his stew. But if there was a trick to using this magic, one that meant we could channel its power, we had to try for that.

Leaning against him, I gave a nod. And I wondered if any of us knew what we are doing.

* * *

A
fter sunset
, we started our flight south again. It would just be the dragons and riders—that meant there were ten of us. One of the wild, black dragons Seb had almost tamed had left us during the battle, fleeing with the other blacks.

That meant it was ten dragons against hundreds.

Thorri wanted us to keep scouting for her and her Wildmen to travel after the dragons on foot, but Seb had insisted we needed to get to the Academy as soon as possible. He argued that Reynalt or someone else who had escaped the power we’d use would take news of it to Lord Vincent. We couldn’t risk the King’s Dragon Stone falling into enemy hands.

That thought had my stomach cramping and my hands cold—I had feared that very thing all along. I vowed to myself that I would use the stone and its power to destroy myself and all with me before that happened.

But Thorri argued over the idea of being left behind, and Beris actually sided with her, strangely enough, saying we needed every fighter that we could get.

He wasn’t wrong, but neither was Seb for thinking we needed to act quickly. We put it to a vote and the rest of us sided with Seb’s idea of getting the dragons moving fast and ahead of the Wildmen.

Eyes snapping, Thorri folded her arms across her chest. “I’m still come to Torvald with any and all that march with me. We will not hide and hope you Dragon Riders will save everyone. We will fight!”

I had to admire her courage. She had no dragon at her side, no magical affinity or stone that would increase her chances. She and her forces were outnumbered. But she wasn’t about to let any of that stop her. I hoped that I, too, would prove myself when my back hit the wall. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that that would be happening sooner rather than later.

We were headed into the heart of our enemy’s territory—this was not just our only chance, it was a wild and slim one, too.

* * *

T
o me
, it seemed as if Kalax was feeling curiously settled, at peace with the thought of returning to where she had been born. She even chirruped to the other wild, black dragons with us, pleased by their presence and loyalty.

“She wants to hunt and fight. She says we’ve been hiding for too long,” Seb told me. I could feel a surge of wild excitement pulse through me—it felt like that same beat of power from the King’s Dragon Stone.

Fire…spark at the heart of every living thing.

Kalax’s thoughts came into my mind. I wondered if we would have a later to talk about such things. After we’d won our victory.

Or would we end like the First Rider—given burials in tombs that would be made into sacred spots. I shivered.

We had wrapped every piece of armor, breastplate, or shoulder guard against making so much as a glint of light. We had daubed some of the Wildmen’s blue on our faces, so we’d look more like Wildmen. Dar had grinned at such a thing. Even the dragons had seemed to mute their colors, something I hadn’t known they could do. We looked like creatures out of myth and legend—bits of moonlight that skimmed the cloudy sky.

Seb had given everyone orders to make as little sound as possible. Kalax led the way, flying so low I felt as if I could lean down and touch the tree tops. The dragons worked hard to catch every updraft and current, gliding as much as possible. It would take a few hours to reach Torvald and the plan was to make it before dawn. I pulled my tattered cloak tighter around my shoulders and patted the leather pouch at my side where the King’s Dragon Stone lay, heavy and seeming to hum softly. I tried not to think of what might have to happen if we were discovered—how I might have to use the power of the stone again to prevent it from falling into Lord Vincent’s hands.

Instead, I focused on the flight.

We moved like hunting owls, as silent as death itself, stealing back into the country we had once called home. This time we were the invaders.

At one point, I looked back to see the long line of our ten dragons moving over the landscape like moonlight. Kalax was skimming over a river now, flying so low I could feel the spray of water on my face and smell the wet.

But I couldn’t let the peaceful night lull me into a false sense of security. It might seem quiet, but this level of flying required constant vigilance from the navigators and the dragons to avoid snagging a wing tip or their claws on a trees or even on roof tops.

This would be a feat worthy of songs and tales, if any friend survived to write one about us.

It wasn’t until the darkest part of the night, when even the stars had been obligingly covered by high, black clouds, that we spied a hump in the horizon ahead.

Dragons!

Kalax sniffed the air, her mind informing both me and Seb of what she had detected. I saw Seb lean down, confiding something in her and my hands tensed on my bow. Would I have to fight? Shoot one down?

The crimson red, daubed in the northern tribe’s camouflage, slowed her pace, taking a long, meandering route toward the city, which spread out from Mount Hammal like the tiers of a cake.

“
No dragons on the wing?” I whispered, and I saw Seb shake his head.

“No,” he hissed at me. “I expect they’re all asleep and don’t expect an attack!”

“Won’t they smell us?” I whispered.

Seb nodded, before indicating the wild dragons behind us who had joined our tiny force to make up our ten.

Of course, the dragons in and around the city would smell us, but we would just be more Middle Kingdom and wild dragons mixed together. There was no special feature that marked us out as enemy. Not yet.

“We get as close to the Academy as we can, and land where we have to.” Seb waved at the rear of the city, which opened out onto Mount Hammal with its wild scrubby woods, meadows and the lake where I had once watched Kalax fish. It all seemed so long ago now. To think this had been my home, and now it stank of ash and blood. This was where I had become a Dragon Rider!

The moon set and the sky grew darker. I knew dawn would be coming soon. I could see the shape of Mount Hammal in the distance now. It looked old and scarred, even from here, and I felt a shiver through me.

What if Lord Vincent has burned the Academy?

I pushed the thought away and tried to remember the Academy and the dragon enclosure as it had been.

Usually, even in the middle of the night, we could hear the sound from the dragons—they would be grumbling, feeding or shuffling about in the old volcano crater that had acted as their enclosure. The night air had always been filled with the yips of foxes hunting, the screech of wild rabbits, or the soft hoots of owls. Tonight, I could only hear the wind in my ears. And I dreaded to think what we’d see when we got to the Academy or when the sun broke over the horizon.

Would the stones be blasted? The keep burned? The forces of the Darkening—the mutated dragons and the possessed Wildmen and Southern raiders—seemed to revel in destruction and death just for the sake of it.

Glancing below us, I could see that Lord Vincent hadn’t bothered to rebuild any of the ruined bridges over the mountain rivers. Crops had been flattened in the fields. Villages had been burned. I would have expected an invading army to seize things of value, but the Darkening seemed to rejoice in pure destruction.

Kalax crested a ridge and Mount Hammal rose up in front of us. Seb raised his hand and waved a white flag that could be seen. It was the signal to hold fast.

Kalax banked, swooping along the underside of the high peak, swerving back down a few hundred feet to the meadows. With an effort that would have earned us a medal from the Academy instructors, all ten dragons managed to copy the maneuver, coming to land on the barren ground. The one bit of good news was that the Academy walls—and at least one of the towers—still stood.

I had to admit, it was good to see it again. Hope lifted in my chest. Then I turned to the others.

They had already dismounted. We’d agreed that we’d go in on foot, just in case any forces of the Darkening were inside the Academy. It would be easier to break and run and have our dragons waiting to take us to safety.

I glanced around at all the faces, so pale in the early, pale light that came just before dawn arrived. Beris looked grim, and Syl fidgeted nervously with the hilt of his sword. Merik had his flying goggles pushed up and his optics in place, and Varla had her sword drawn. The three Wildmen grinned, looking eager for battle. I gave Seb a nod. He and I went first. We trudged over the ridge, finding the familiar path that led from the high meadow and down to the Academy.

It was much as we had last seen it, with scorch marks on every wall. A few more stones had been toppled from the upper walls, but two of the dragon platforms still looked solid, even in the weak dawn light. One wall-mounted trebuchet still stood. I wished again that the map tower had survived, but I wouldn’t let myself think this might have been a wasted journey. We had to find something that might help us.

At the front gates, we paused. The Wildmen or others had put new gates back in place, but had left them open. Strangely, a dragon’s skull, the bones bleached white, had been nailed to the top of the right gate. I recognized the skull as the one that had once hung from the keep’s hall—it had been the skull of one of the earliest dragons to ever be raised in the enclosure.

“Some tribal ritual?”
Seb asked, looking at the Wildmen.

Temmi shrugged, and I pointed at the dragons’ teeth scattered along the base of the walls. Some were ancient and yellowed, but others held stains as if they’d been taken out only recently. “Looks more like a warning.”

Remembering the skeleton of the First Dragon, turned to stone and guarding the tomb of the First Rider, I hunched a shoulder. “A warning to keep out—magic’s here.”

Seb nodded. “Good. That may keep others out.” He headed inside the Academy, and I followed.

The training yard held little more than cold ashes and tumbled stone.

“Home sweet home,” Seb muttered.

I patted him on the back. “It’ll be that again.” Glancing back, I saw the others had followed us in. Looking around us once more, I saw the walls held strong and thick, and we had front gates again. We could bar them and hold the Academy for a time, but if a large force attacked, we wouldn’t be able to keep our defenses in place. Maybe Beris had been right and we should have waited for the Wildmen troops.

In my leather pouch, the King’s Dragon Stone seemed heavy and warm. I wet my lips and resisted the urge to reach down and pat it, as if it was a pet. It was about as much a pet as was a trained fighting dragon.

I glanced up to the eastern sky—dawn was leaving pink and gray streaks across the horizon.

Turning to the others, I said, “Okay, Seb, Merik and Varla, let’s see what we can find. Look for anything that might have been hidden or buried—maybe in a cellar or one of the instructor rooms. Beris and Syl, you’ll take first watch, but stay out of sight. Post Dar, Temmi and Jal where they can be seen, so the Academy looks as if it’s still under the control of the Darkening. There are certain to be others from Lord Vincent’s forces about. Maybe they’ll heed their own warning, but let’s not take a chance that they won’t.”

Beris threw me a hasty salute and moved off with our Wildmen dragon riders. Merik and Seb headed for the keep, and Varla stayed by my side. I glanced around the training yard once more, thinking of all the mock battles I’d fought here. Now it might become the place where we made our final stand against Lord Vincent and the Darkening.

I
t was eerily
silent as Merik and I crept up the stone steps inside the keep. Thea and Varla followed just behind Merik. Our footsteps echoed back to us but my heart was thudding so hard it seemed louder than our boots.

“Who put the dragon’s skull on the gate? And why?” Merik whispered as he followed me.

I shook my head. I was just hoping we weren’t about to find out that some contingent of Darkening sorcerers or something equally foul had taken up residence at the Academy and wanted others to stay out.

We passed by the arched stone windows that opened out onto the Dragon Academy, revealing the dawn just beyond the eastern mountains. The Academy was starting to look even worse in the morning light—you could see more of the scars on the walls. As we climbed higher, I could see the city below us. Large parts lay in ruins. The fires had all either gone out on their own or had been put out. The city seemed oddly silent, and I wasn’t sure anyone still lived in it.

Reaching the top floors, we came upon an open door that had been left hanging from one hinge. The room looked as if it had escaped any damage—scarlet drapes still hung by the broken window, which let in a cool, morning breeze. A tall-backed, wooden chair stood next to a scarred oak table that still had all its legs and held a dozen scrolls and three books. How had this escaped the Wildmen?

I glanced around. This had been one of the rooms that led up to the lookout platforms. Pulling in a breath, I heard the sharp clack of metal bending. Was that from the metal stairs cooling? Maybe it was nothing more than a nesting pigeon.

Or maybe not.

I looked at Thea and put a finger to my lips. Slow and silent, I drew my sword and stepped over the threshold.

The windows had been smashed and so had the bookshelves that once lined the walls. I wondered how much lore we had lost—would we ever be able to recreate everything? But the scrolls and the books meant someone had saved something.

A raspy voice from above made me crouch low and look up. “So you, too, came back.”

For an instant, I could see no one in the shadows above us. Dawn light was slowly creeping in through the broken window, but it left deep pockets of blackness. My eyes adjusted to the dimness, and a figure moved. He stood up in one of the viewing galleries where scouts used to sit, gazing through the wall-mounted tellyscups.

Moving slowly, the man came down the narrow, winding stairs and stepped into the main room. For an instant I didn’t know him, he was so covered in dirt, but he took another step and his limp gave away his identity.

“Mordecai? Instructor Mordecai?” I could only blink. It seemed as if we were always coming across him here—as if he was as drawn to the Academy as we were. Perhaps even more so, for where else would he go?

“No instructor now, boy.” Mordecai said and fell heavily into the chair. It creaked under his weight, although now I could see his face looked thinner. His gray hair also hung limp and long around his face. He gave a groan and started coughing, the sound a deep rattle in his chest.

After swapping a look with Thea and one with Varla—I wanted them to be ready in case this was a trick—I stepped forward to pat Mordecai’s back. Merik came into the room and began to look over the scrolls and books.

Pushing my arm away, Mordecai glared up at me, his eyes blurred with moisture. He pulled in a raspy breath and said, “You thought me gone or worse! But you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“We—we don’t want to.” Thea sheathed her sword. Frowning, she shared a look with me and wiggled her eyebrows. I knew what she meant. This was very unlike the sharp-witted Mordecai we’d known. Had he been badly injured? And where was Commander Hegarty—hadn’t Mordecai gone to the Southern Realm with the commander?

Check him,
Thea mouthed the words to me and I nodded, motioning for Thea and Merik to keep watch. Merik frowned, but Varla stepped up, her sword still in her hand—she wasn’t going to relax her guard it seemed.

“Come, sir. Let’s take you to better quarters.” I reached to take his arm. I could smell dried blood and stale sweat on him. How long had he been here? It looked to me as though he hadn’t washed in days—but neither had we. Like us, he still wore boots and leathers, and like us they looked to be hard worn and becoming tattered. The gray cloak on his shoulders looked fit only for a vagabond, not for a Dragon Rider.

I’d no sooner touched him than Mordecai’s hand snaked out to seize my wrist in a vice-like grip. He dragged me closer until he was staring into my eyes. His beard had grown shaggy. “I’m not dead yet, boy! Not yet!”

“No, sir. No.” I twisted my arm to free myself and rubbed my sore wrist. He might look thinner and older, but he still had a grip like a dragon.

Behind me, Thea and Varla edged closer. Mordecai grasped the edge of the table and pulled himself to his feet. He swayed for a moment and I readied myself to catch him, but he glared at me, as if daring me to treat him like an old, infirm man.

Staring at Mordecai, Thea narrowed her eyes. “We keep meeting you here. But you and the commander were traveling south to get help.
”

Mordecai glanced at her and then back up at the viewing gallery. He was silent for a moment and then let out a breath. “Yes. Hegarty. He gave a good account at the end.”

It was if I had stepped off of a ledge and suddenly realized there was no firm ground underneath me. “The commander?” The words came out unsteady even to my ears.

Commander Hegarty had been the only one who had really believed a boy from Monger’s Lane could become a Dragon Rider. He had been more than an instructor—he’d taught me how to deal with the slights and insults from sullen nobles who thought I didn’t belong.

“What happened to Commander Hegarty?” I asked. My throat seemed to clamp shut.

Mordecai straightened and faced me. He no longer looked just to be an old, sick man who had been through a hard time. His eyes sharpened. His boots and breeches might be caked in mud and grime with blood marking his leather jerkin and cloak, but he suddenly looked a Dragon Rider who had been through hard battles to get here.

How had he done that without Commander Hegarty?

And what of the others who had gone with them?

“What happened?” I asked, my voice sharpening. “Why are you here and not the commander? Hegarty is twice the fighter you could ever be.”

With a nod, Mordecai said, “Yes…yes, he was. Which is why I'm here. He stood his ground to the last and told us to run. Said someone must get back. The rest of us scattered and I fear I was the only to come back alive. We found no help.”

Grief cut through me, a deep sorrow. The commander dead. I couldn’t believe such a thing.

Kalax sensed my sorrow and denial and brushed her heart against mine.

All men and dragons die.

“Seb?” Thea put a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get him some water and find if there is any food left in the stores.”

I could only stare at her.

Mordecai stepped up to me. “You think I don’t feel ten times worse than you, boy?” His voice firmed and gained in strength. “I’ve known Hegarty since we were both lads. We fought with the old king against raiders and the like. We shared the comradeship of long years, trusting our lives to each other’s hands! We held the Academy for long years. His loss is one I’ll not forget.”

The pain of such a loss didn’t lessen, but I realized I was not the only one who would miss Hegarty.

Elbowing me aside, Thea unslung her water pouch. “Sir, you must be thirsty. We should also see to your wounds.”

He accepted the water and drank some down, but thrust the pouch back at Thea and wiped his mouth and beard with the back of his hand. “I’ve lasted this long. I’ll go a day longer, I expect.”

“But, sir…your wounds?”

“Will be there tomorrow if any of us live to see another sunrise. He turned to stare out the window. “I fear there will be none left to bury us.”

Following his stare, I looked out the shattered window. I could see the ridge of the mountains, which sloped down to the dragon enclosure. From the top there, you could look down into the dragon enclosure, which spread out like a bowl. Beside the granite boulder that marked the path, I saw a fresh stack of rocks made into a cairn and topped with glinting dragon’s teeth. That had to be the commander’s grave—and now we knew that Mordecai must also have put the signs up to warn others not just away from Hegarty’s grave but from the Academy.

I glanced at him and crossed my arms. “You came back here to die? Why? What happened?” All thoughts of giving him comfort had fled—I wanted to know just what had happened to the commander. Why was he dead and Mordecai still alive?

With a heavy sigh, he sat in the chair. He shook his head and put his stare out the window again, looking toward the commander’s grave. “The road south seemed choked with those fleeing Torvald at first. We sent them to try and meet up with the king’s forces and soon parted from the roads. Everywhere we went, we ran into trouble. We took on the cloaks of raiders from the Southern Realm so we might pass. Any unfortunates not directly under the control of the Darkening seemed terrified. Some would attack any stranger.”

He paused and turned away from the window. His shoulders slumped. “We pushed on and the days grew hotter and the woods thinned into the shrubs and grass of the southlands. It became harder to hide from the black dragons that flew the skies—the Darkening seemed to be everywhere. Every village we came across had been burned to the ground. So we headed for the high rocky mountains.”

I frowned—it was sounding as if the Southern Realm had met with the same battles and war as the Middle Kingdom.

Glancing at me, Mordecai said, “At last we came across a small group of fighters—or rather their dragons found us. They were using herbs and strong potions to ward off the magic from the Memory Stone. Mostly, however, they were in hiding. Hegarty talked them into flying north to join King Justin’s forces, and so we started back.”

His cough started up again. Thea offered him more water, but he waved her off, scowling at her, looking more like his old self.

Wiping his beard, he shook his head. “We had it all wrong. We’d faced a large battle here with the Darkening, but in the Southern Realm, they had seen a slow spread—they’d had manipulation and treachery. That cur Lord Vincent had been spreading the poison of the Darkening for years to turn the people of the south into his slaves. And we walked into his trap.”

“There were no herbs and potions to avoid the Darkening and the Memory Stone,” Varla muttered.

Looking up, Mordecai nodded. “We learned that truth too late. The dragons and riders we’d met up with led us straight to the Darkening. We did what we could to fight and run. Hegarty got us out only by giving up his own life. Only a few of the Southern Realm riders were still free of the Darkening. They…they helped me and then fled. I…I went back to find Hegarty’s broken body. He deserved a decent grave and so I brought him home. If there are any dragons in the Southern Realm still free now, I fear they are in hiding…or they are dead.”

His gaze seemed to turn inward and he fell silent.

Thea glanced at me, her eyebrows pulled into a tight frown. I was just glad that Hegarty lay near his beloved dragons. But we were still alive—and still in deep trouble.

“Now what?” Merik said, asking the question we were all thinking.

I glanced at him and pushed back my shoulders. We had no time to mourn—we had battles to plan and fight. “We still have the King’s Dragon Stone.”

Mordecai straightened and his eyes brightened. “What? What Dragon Stone? The one that controls them all? You know where it is?”

“We do.” Dropping my arms to my side, I nodded.

“Then why, by the First Dragon, haven’t you used this…this King’s Dragon Stone? Why is it not with the king?” Mordecai stood and looked from me to Thea and back again.

“We did use it,” Thea said, her voice dry. “And almost died.”

I lifted a hand and said, “Once, a long time ago, you were suspicious of what I could do—of the Dragon Affinity. You said it was too powerful for me and I didn’t know how to control it. Well, the King’s Dragon Stone is much the same, but even more so.”

Thea huffed a breath. “Seb thinks it’s bonded to me and—”

“We all do,” Varla muttered.

“Bonded?” Mordecai frowned. “To you, Flamma? So it likes your hand and no other? Well, that is one bit of good news—you, Flamma, at least have a sensible head.” His voice took on more strength and sharpened, so he sounded more like the cranky instructor we’d once known. “And, Smith, I was suspicious of you because the ancient power that runs through your veins and which comes out as the Dragon Affinity
is
dangerous. That is the same magic the Darkening pulls upon.”

“Just as Lord Vincent does,” Merik said, his voice barely a whisper.

I could feel my face warm, then chill. What if I had touched the King’s Dragon Stone first? Could I have become like Lord Vincent—a ghoul who sought only power and more power? Was that how that prince of old had been corrupted—had he had the affinity and answered its pull toward the darkness of never having enough? He certainly wanted more territory, more destruction…more death.

“Much harm can come from dangers we have not foreseen.” Mordecai’s energy faded. Coughs shook him again and he slumped back into his chair. “But there is hope for us if Flamma here has the one Dragon Stone that controls them—the King’s Dragon Stone. And you have each other.” Mordecai looked from me to Merik, then to Varla, and finally to Thea. “That is true strength.” He seemed to speak straight to Thea. “That was our mistake—to try and split apart. I should never have listened to Hegarty and left his side. Stay together and you will have the best chance any of us might have.”

Mordecai gave a nod and looked at me. “I was suspicious of you, Smith, because you so wanted to master all of the skills we teach and you wanted to do it on your own. That was where I and Hegarty differed. He thought he could see a spark in you that would save others, but I feared that very thing. There are no heroes, only friends.”