Dragon Bonds (Return of the Darkening Series Book 3) (6 page)

“Varla?” I hesitated, wondering if I had been wrong about her before. Maybe she
wasn’t
as strong as I thought she was.

“It’s okay.” I heard the leather of her jerkin creak as she straightened. “It’s just—it’s just that I always thought…you know our room is gone.”

I nudged her shoulder “It was too small for us.”

She gave a hard sniff. “It was here that—that I finally had friends.”

“Oh, for…” I slapped an arm around her shoulder. “You still have that. Now—where do we search? Seb wants anything we can find on the Dragon Stones.”

Pulling away, she said, “I think we should split up. I’ll take the keep. The commander might have kept some books in his rooms, or up in storage.”

“I’ll check the staff’s old quarters. Maybe one of them had something that could help us out.”

“Done. Meet back here as soon as we’re done?” Varla said. To my surprise, I found myself agreeing with her as if she was the one giving orders now.

Let her feel strong. The First Dragon knows that we all need that right now!

She jumped easily over the shattered wooden beams and scattered stones and disappeared inside the keep.

I turned in the opposite direction, heading around the side of the main keep, heading for the buildings at the back. I didn’t want to tell Varla what I’d
really
come here for—somewhere in this rubble lay the body of the old king and perhaps that of Instructor Mordecai. They needed to be found—they
deserved
to be found.

I’d set fire to them, I had decided, surprised at my own clarity of thought about what I needed to do. They at least needed someone to say a few words over them.

As I stepped over the soot-blackened door that led into the kitchen—and from there to quarters—my boots crunched on broken glass and dirt tramped or blown in from the training yard. A sense of terrible finality settled into my stomach, as if this really was the end of days. This might be the last time I ever set foot in the Academy.

But we do what we have to do for those we love
. I stepped further into the darkness.

My steps echoed down the corridors. I didn’t remember the Academy being this foreboding, but I had never been far into the kitchen or the instructor’s quarters. We’d had cleaners and servants to deal with this. Smoke choked the air and smashed pottery littered the floor. A number of the rooms that could be easily broken into had been and the contents—from clothes to tapestries to food—had been either dragged out and trampled on or taken. It looked as though the Wildmen had sought to set numerous fires in the rooms but the ancient stone had ultimately defeated them. Some of the rooms were completely blackened, but the fires hadn’t spread.

In one room, a couple of old, horned dragon helmets sat on the floor, dented and sad looking.

No bodies.

I let out a breath and crossed to the heavy iron-barred door that led to more instructors’ quarters. The door was heavy and difficult to open, and as soon as I did, the foul smell of sulfur had me choking. Like acrid, rotten eggs, it made my eyes run. Putting a scarf over my face, I headed down the hall.

Feeling my way, for I had hardly any light, I walked down the hallway. A few fires gave me enough light not to trip over anything. I stopped and stared at one door that looked as though it had been blown out
against
the far wall, from the inside.

I peered in, finding the room gutted by fire. That foul smell swirled around me, so I hurried on to find the same situation in the next room and the next. These rooms must have been studies. Had the Wildmen or the raiders set fire to the doors, heedless of what potions or supplies might be held inside?

I stepped forward again.

Out of a bare patch of wall, a large shadow lurched at me. A club with a small spiked iron ball at its head fell toward me.

I just managed to deflect the blow with the shield on my arm. The heavy thud of the mace reverberated through the buckler and up my arm. Had I not been wearing armor, my arm would have been broken. My attacker was much wider and larger than I was, but shorter. He moved fast and whisper-quick as he lashed out again, driving me back up the corridor. He had come out of nowhere and I realized he must have used a secret passage, and I could think of only one person who would know such things.

I blocked his next blow and asked, half panting out the words, “Instructor Mordecai?”

He lowered his mace and stared at me, his chest heaving. He gave a nod. “Ah, Flamma. Late, as usual I see.”

D
anger
!

The thought spread through me like a wave and it took me a moment to realize it hadn’t been mine, but Kalax’s.

What is it?
I thought back at her, trying to keep one eye on the king and Ryan, who were arguing about what to do with the now recovered Beris and Syl. Ryan was being polite, but the king didn’t want to change his mind. Beris and Syl knelt on hard stone, heads bowed, and I was starting to think that was going to be punishment enough—it didn’t look comfortable.

I stood next to Merik in a corner of the room, with one of the king’s men-at-arms standing next to us, a wearied look on her face. Merik was nursing the black eye I had pretended to give him, and I had my arms crossed over my chest, trying my best to look as annoyed as possible. In order to distract the king, the only plan that I had been able to come up with was to have a fight with Merik over the fate of Beris and Syl, and now it was looking like we’d all end up under reprimand. Ryan was arguing that the king needed every Dragon Rider he had—and I thought he was starting to convince the king.

S
ending my thoughts back to Kalax, I asked,
what danger?

Smell Wildmen. Enclosure. Academy.

Tensing, I shifted on my feet. The king’s guard took notice of my sudden movement—she seemed to think I was about to pounce on Merik once more. Hand dropping to her sword hilt, she glared at me. I glared back at the guard, and told Kalax,
It’s going to take me time to get to you
.

“Watch yourself,” the guard muttered, standing a little straighter.

I dropped my arms and faced her. “You don’t understand. There’s trouble at the Academy.”

King Justin looked over at me. “Rider Smith? Isn’t it enough that you have upset one meeting already?”

“No…I mean, yes, I mean, sire, we have…there are still dangers nearby.” He had no real reason to trust me or my affinity. Now I wished Thea had stayed—the king might have listened to her.

Taking too long. Going to hunt.
I felt Kalax leap into the air, her muscles rippling as her wings unfurled.

No—you need me!

Ha! Little Seb, dragons never need humans. Liking you joins us together.
I could feel her amusement as she shared her thoughts with me.

Every beat of her wings brought with it a rush of excitement. I was certain Kalax was in danger—there were so many wild dragons still near the city. Surely they could smell her. It was then that I realized some of the strange benefits that I could give to our bond.

The Dragon Affinity wasn’t just about controlling a dragon—although the Darkening used it that way. It was about sharing the minds and the senses of dragons. As Kalax sped down from the mountain, heading to the Academy and keeping her glide barely above tree height, I sensed her searching the horizon for enemies.

Stretching out my own senses, I could feel, smell and hear things going on at a far distance from the city. Dark shadows in the shape of passing dragons were gliding just a few leagues away. They caught Kalax’s scent, but I sent out a suggestion that it was no threat—this was an old smell.

Their interest quickly faded. It was working because Hammal Mountain always smelled of other dragons due to the dragon enclosure.

Kalax was safe, but I began to slip away from this room. Words became distant and ghostly. I was swept up in being with Kalax, skimming the tops of trees, smelling the air and the night—it seemed far more real than anything else.

Careful,
Kalax warned. She pushed me back a little. With a blink, I was back in the room with the king and the others. Only a part of me was still with Kalax. I wondered if this was how the Darkening came to be. Had Lord Vincent once been caught up in this need to join minds and then control others?

No!
Kalax thundered in my mind, disgusted that I could think such a thing.
Evil comes from hatred…fear and greed. Sharing hearts is good. You have no needs to feed and feed—you have all you want.

Well—it would be great to be able to fly on my own,
I half-joked with her, but I sent her my gratitude for her confidence in me.

And then I sensed her sweeping down on a group of thirty Wildmen heading for the shattered gates of the Dragon Academy.

I gave a gasp, and Merik nudged my shoulder, but I was too caught up in what had happened to the Academy. Through Kalax’s eyes, I saw the walls still stood, but scorch marks from fires had blackened the stone and the deep grooves of dragon claws had left scars. The wooden platforms where dragons had once landed hung in splintered tatters over the sides of the wall. The map tower lay in rubble.

“The Academy is gone!”
I whispered. My stomach gave a sharp lurch even to say the words out loud.

Stone stands. A cave is a cave still. Good enough to make a home here if we need.
Kalax’s casual thoughts reassured me. But I still couldn’t help but feel regret tugging at me.

When Kalax looked down at the centuries-old Academy, she just saw another human den—one that had lasted for a fraction of time in the whole scheme of things. She did not see the memories or the lost knowledge, the books gone, the flags and armor of past riders. She just saw it as a place we could use for shelter if we wanted it.

I wondered if her view was better or worse than mine, but a flurry of arrows from the Wildmen jarred me from such thoughts. The arrows clattered off Kalax’s scales, but I winced and pulled in a breath.

“What’s wrong, Seb?”
Merik poked at my ribs.

I shook my head.
Too many!
I thought to tell Kalax, but her anger was rising like a flame in her throat.

She swooped low over the fallen gates, buffeting the first rank of the Wildmen with her wings, sending them sprawling. But the Wildmen—although controlled by Lord Vincent and the Darkening—knew how to fight dragons. A few at the back of the group crouched low and drew back their bows. Others were readying their long spears and nets.

And then a sound reverberated through the night—a low, sad call that I had thought I would never hear again.

The Dragon Horn called out—someone sounded it. I heard the horn in multiple echoes through Kalax’s ears as well as my own.

In the room around me, all talk stopped. “The Dragon Horn,” King Justin said, breathing out the words with a touch of awe.

The shock and command of hearing that call slammed me back into my body. I slumped against the wall, for it felt odd to be back in my own body and not sharing Kalax’s flight.

Pushing off the wall, I said, “The Academy is in danger—there are Dragon Riders still there!”

The king nodded—he was a Dragon Rider, too, and he knew that the summons of the Dragon Horn could not be ignored. He nodded at me and Merik. “Go. And tell the idiot blowing the horn to shut up before they draw down every wild dragon this side of the mountains!”

Too late for that,
I thought, feeling the echoing call of the wild dragons that were near the city. Kalax had wheeled and turned and was swooping down for another attack. I turned to Merik.

With a slap against my arm, Merik pointed at the door. “Feradima won’t mind giving you a lift, I think. Although you’ll owe her some fish.” Merik grinned. We raced out of the room to rescue our partners.

Before we’d gotten down one flight of steps, a voice called out from behind us. “Wait!”

I turned to see Beris and Syl rushing after us. I tensed, half expecting Beris to throw a punch or point out how stupid I was being. His face still pale, Beris came up to me. “Gaxtal is by the palace gates. We can help. The king has given us leave to prove our loyalty.”

I looked at him for the briefest second, still aware through Kalax of the clatter of black arrows and the readying of long spears.

I hope this is the right decision
.

With a nod, I said, “Come on.”

I kept a sliver of awareness with Kalax as I greeted Feradima as properly as I could. Feradima was an older dragon—one who had chosen Varla as her rider long before she had accepted Merik. In the pale moonlight, she regarded me coolly, but when Merik relayed to her that Varla was in danger, she hunched down so I could climb up on her back. I was a bit more worried about Gaxtal. The blue dragon that Beris and Syl partnered with still looked a little groggy, for he was slowly blinking his eyes and looking around as if he wasn’t sure where he was. Gaxtal, too, must have been under the control of the Memory Stone and the Darkening’s enchantment.

Still, this was not the time for wise caution. I swung up into the unfamiliar protector’s saddle on the back of Feradima, feeling awkward and uncomfortable at riding another dragon.

So you should!
Kalax thought at me, laughing as she threw out her claws to destroy two ground lances. The Wildmen had lit fires and held torches high. I saw that a heavy rope net had caught at Kalax’s claws, tangling the talons. Kalax flew high into the air and landed on the wall of the Academy with a snarl. She turned her head, and I heard what she had heard—the rush and beat of wild dragon wings.

We’ll be there soon!
I thought at Kalax.

Feradima launched into the air and Merik helped guide her to the Academy—we didn’t have far to go. The cold, night air rushed over my face, and I was sorry now I didn’t have goggles like Merik or a proper helmet. Glancing down, the pale walls of the Academy loomed up and I saw the assembled forces of the Wildmen below. They turned and glanced up, faces going pale in the firelight when they saw us. Three dragons against thirty trained fighters seemed poor odds, but we were Dragon Riders. We had a reputation of being fearsome—that had to count. The trick would be to get the Wildmen to run before the wild dragons arrived.

There.
Through Kalax’s eyes I saw three shadowy figures heading along the top of the wall toward her. At first I thought they were Wildmen who had found a way to scale the wall. But the moon rose higher, glinting off Dragon Armor. Thea’s red-gold hair shone bright, and I caught a glimpse of Varla’s long braid that bobbed as she struggled forward. They held a bulkier, hobbling third person between them, and I thought I knew that limping figure.
Instructor Mordecai.

The last I had seen of him had been at the king’s council in forest, after the battle. He had vanished after that, and I had wondered if he had been sent on some mission for the king or if he had gone off on his own on some errand. How he had managed to survive on his own was a mystery, but it was good we had found him. But now we all needed to escape.

I waved, and Feradima swept down, giving Thea, Varla and Mordecai cover as they headed for Kalax. It was too dark to see much more, and I didn’t know how Kalax was going to carry three riders in two saddles.

I felt Kalax balk a little at the extra weight, but she launched into the air. Below us, Beris and Syl on Gaxtal distracted the Wildmen with attacks that kept them crouched low. I briefly considered trying to use my Dragon Affinity against the oncoming wild dragons, but I hated how the Darkening had already killed one dragon that refused to obey. I also worried that the effort to use the affinity again so soon might drain me of what little energy I had left today. I would have to rely on good old fighting skills.

We swooped low a few times, Feradima and Gaxtal coming at the Wildmen from different directions, drawing their arrow fire away from Kalax so she could escape. She flew up into the sky, disappearing into the stars.

The wild dragons were getting close. I could feel them drawing close and see them as they blotted out the stars. I judged three were near, and two more followed.

“We have to go!” I shouted.

Merik nodded, thumping the side of Feradima’s neck once in a particular spot just over her collarbone. Feradima knew the command, puffed out her chest and roared a rain of fire out onto the Wildmen.

It took a lot out of Feradima—or any dragon—to spit fire. Only many days of eating and bulking up on the right foods could replenish a dragon’s natural fire. A substance like molten rock fell on the Wildmen, sticking to wood, cloth and flesh, melting metal and everything else it touched in an instant. Feradima’s scales changed color slightly but she roared a victory cry.

Beneath us, screams could be heard. In the chaos and smoke, we flew up, not following Kalax, but flying over the ridge to ride in different directions before looping back to head into the mountains. From there, we could make our way to our hidden camp, but we had to be certain we weren’t being followed.

Exhausted, Feradima still kept flying fast.

As the night cleared to reveal stars some hours later, we finally admitted that we had done it. No enemy dragon was following. They had been distracted by the dragon fire, by the smoke that had obscured their scene of smell and sight. Merik and Feradima visibly relaxed, turning in a wide, gliding arc to coast back to our hidden camp and relative safety.

I just hoped Kalax and Gaxtal had made it back, too.

* * *

V
arla pointed
to a mark on one of the old scrolls she had managed to find. “Here—that’s the place to begin. In the north. And I think…well, that may mean monastery—or it may actually mean tomb. Or even statue.”