Rise Of The Dragon King (Book 5) (4 page)

“Zah.” Rikky spoke evenly as the dour rush was subsiding. “Remember when me, you, Solmon, Jenka, and all the others first rode out of Crag?”

“I do.” Her smile was suddenly wide and genuine. “I was so excited. And I didn’t know it at the time, but Jenka thought I was an elf and hundreds of years old or something.”

Rikky shrugged, for he had no idea what she was talking about. “I didn’t even have Silva then.”

“And you had two legs.” Zah’s expression showed that she was suddenly worried she might have offended him.

“And you were the farthest thing from a queen I could imagine. I was afraid of you and those lines and shapes tattooed on your face.” Rikky shivered then. “I can’t believe the druids used Sarax blood to mark themselves. I can’t believe you did that.”

“I did it, too.” Linux entered the room carrying a tray of bread and cheese.

Rikky had just been remembering the old Linux, not Linux in Rolph’s body, and his previous revulsion for the man swelled slightly, but only until his memory
of that old Linux shifted to the peg-legs they’d constructed, and the rolling chair Linux devised in the months after Rikky lost his leg.

“Want to go on a little adventure, Linux?” Rikky asked, as he speared a cut of cheese with his dagger.

“I don’t know?” He looked at Zahrellion, for permission maybe, or approval.

She nodded.

“I suppose I do.” He grinned. “But I’m not sure our last adventure is over yet.”

Blaze had been carrying Marcherion over the sea for nearly two full months now and the lack of variety in the scenery was taking its toll. Watching the waves roll and swell wasn’t so bad when the sun wasn’t reflecting harshly in March’s eyes, but most of every day it was. His exposed skin had tanned at first. He would have been blistered by the sun were he not bonded with a fire wyrm. As it was, he was a deep shade of brown now, like the summer field workers or the sailors he used to see at Port.

One day, after Blaze landed in the water and floated around like a giant duck in a hissing cloud of steam, March relieved himself and then scrubbed as much filth off of his body as he could manage while swimming. It wasn’t until he was
climbing back onto his dragon that he saw something large gliding in the sky above the clouds as if it were watching them.

He climbed into his saddle and got situated for the jarring lurches that would lift them from the water up into the air again. After that was over, he began scanning the sky.

Twice again that day he saw whatever it was, but it never came under the clouds so he could see it. He thought about urging Blaze up above the cottony ceiling, but decided that if it wasn’t bothering them, they should just let it be.

For a few days that seemed like a great decision, but then, just as a heavy rain started to pound down on them, causing even more steam to sizzle off of Blaze’s hot scales, the thing made a sweeping pass that almost unseated March.

He knew it wasn’t a dragon, now, but what it was he couldn’t say, for he’d never seen such a thing. What he did see of it was feathered and shrouded in all the evaporating water rising from his dragon.

The question March kept asking himself as he turned his head from side to side, and over his shoulders, trying to see the creature, was:
Is it coming back?

Later, after the camp around Clover’s Castle was settled, and Rikky was alone, he reflected back to a time when he was the age of Jericho and Pascal. He
and Solmon, who was a few years older, were best friends. Jenka and Grondy were also best friends. They’d competed endlessly at everything back then, under the tutelage of Master Kember, and all of them were the better for it.

They’d wanted to be foresters, and then King’s Rangers, though. Jericho and Pascal had no great future plans or desires as of yet, and they were not best friends. They were here to gain experience, and hopefully some sense. Both of them were castle born, and soft, but they’d already started trying harder to outdo each other, and that was good.

Rocky knew that finding a nice, respectable elk to kill was as easy as asking Silva to find the herd and cull some their way. These boys needed more than that.

Rikky decided he would take them to the ancient dwarven tunnel where they’d first found the old red dragon, Crimzon. It was a three-day ride by horse, and if they got that far without incident, Rikky knew he could spook the softness right off of those two down in that scary, molten hole. There was a lake there, too, and Linux had mentioned setting fish lines nearer to the castle, so maybe they could borrow some hooks and string.

Rikky figured they would stay out about ten days and then make the long journey back south along the Strom River to the coast and sail to King’s Island to attend the solstice festival.

Rikky then decided that he was thinking too far ahead. He hadn’t been on a ship in as long as he could remember. He would probably be tired of the rascals by then and take the journey on Silva’s back.

He missed the days of hunting with Jenka, Solmon, Grondy and the rest, and he missed Master Kember and Lemmy, too. Not only did he have two legs back then; in those days the hope he held for an exciting future was enough to keep him eager. Now, all he seemed to ever hope for was a way to end the boredom.

He couldn’t help but laugh at himself for complaining about not having anything to do. He did have a dragon to ride, and he was trekking into the woods with two boys who were beginning to see this as their greatest adventure.

CHAPTER SIX

S
even men and two boys rode out of the area protected by Clover’s enchanted castle and started deeper into the Orich Mountains. The procession was led by a ranger named Willian. Captain Will was older than Herald had been, and just as grouchy. Rikky had worked with him over the years and liked him the second he saw the pronounced knife scar on his ear. When Rikky started training the foresters and putting the King’s Rangers back together for Jenka, he’d spotted the ear-nick and given the man rank on the spot.

A forester named Olly rode behind the captain with a loaded crossbow in his lap. Then came Prince Jericho and Pascal. The two of them rode side by side when they could, and they did a good job of staying out of Rikky’s earshot.

Rikky rode right behind the boys so he could keep an eye on them. Behind him was Linux, then another forester, a green young man whose name Rikky never got. Bringing up the rear was a veteran ranger named Braag Brauntly, who everyone always called Brawn.

The sun was high, and though the morning was as perfect as any summer
morning could be, the air grew thick and still, and the heat became oppressive. The lush, forested slopes were green and rich with animal life, but even the rabbits and squirrels moved in a slow, efficient manner. In the few short stretches the group had to travel through the woods, they could feel the steamy moisture the trees hoarded. Then the procession moved onto a wide, rocky road with nothing between them and the cloudless, pale blue sky.

“It feels like we are climbing into the sun,” Prince Jericho said at one point.

“It’s like riding through a forge furnace,” Pascal added.

“It’s the rocks beneath us that make it so warm, boys,” Brawn called up from the rear. “That sun be trying to melt ‘em.”

Rikky cautioned them all to drink plenty of water so they didn’t cramp later, but eventually the heat disappeared completely. Toward the end of the day, the wind broke the stillness around them, and they found themselves struggling to stay warm in the shadow of the steep face up which they were zigzagging.

The day’s travel was rewarded, though, when they camped on top of an elevated flat that overlooked the dark valley neighboring the castle. The idea that there might be wild creatures still roaming the area was only strengthened when a loud, howling roar erupted in the distance and a few hundred birds leapt into flight. The cloud of avian life swirled and churned and then resettled a short
distance away from where they’d been rousted, but the men kept their eyes glued to the area for a long time after.

The sky was wide open and full of twinkling stars, but the air chill enough to warrant sleeping fully dressed under a blanket. The breeze was slight and only added to the comfort the group seemed to be feeling as they laughed around the fire Olly had built.

“Where is Silva?” Prince Jericho asked Rikky after a particularly long silence that was only interrupted by Linux’s healthy snore.

“She is out there hunting somewhere.” Rikky made a broad sweeping gesture out over the darkened valley. “She is not too far, I hope.”

“Can you speak with her? I mean, in your mind, like Mother does with Crystal?”

“Can you?” Pascal added his query. “My mam can speak with Golden in such a way.”

“I can if I want, but I do not want to interrupt her—”

“By the gods, man,” Brawn roared out, his fearful tone startling them all. “Did you see that?” He slapped the green forester on the shoulder and pointed skyward. When Rikky saw the younger man’s eyes, he knew the lad was really seeing something.

“What?” someone asked.

“What is it?” Prince Jericho’s eyes were wide with worry.

“Something big just passed over us, Dragoneer.” Brawn was still searching the sky. “I seen it myself.”

“Aww, Brawn don’t be scaring turds out of these youngsters,” Captain Will growled. “There’ll be enough time for that lat—”

“I ain’t foolin’ with ya.” Brawn’s tone was bold and conveyed that he was indeed being serious.

Rikky believed him, too, for he and Silva sensed dragon dour of the most potent sort. He only knew of two people alive who resonated in such a way, which was a comfort, but the impression this brief surge left on him wasn’t all that familiar.

He didn’t let the others know what he’d sensed, for whatever it was, it was gone.

“He’s pulling your leg, boys,” Captain Will said. “Ain’t nothing but a low-flying cattle hawk, or a rogue Sarax.”

Rikky didn’t think that was funny, but again, he didn’t give voice to his thoughts. He was busy speaking to his dragon through the ethereal.

What was it?
Rikky asked his bond-mate.

Maybe Jenka, maybe Clover
, she replied.
Maybe something else?

Will you move closer to us?

I could swat you with my tail from where I am
.

Learning this made Rikky chuckle. “The captain is right.” Rikky gave Brawn a stern look through his mirth. “It was probably a low-flying cattlehawk.” His gaze shifted to Captain Willian then, and his eyebrows narrowed. “It weren’t no Sarax.”

The sound of the older man swallowing was loud. Rikky could sense his regret at mentioning the terrible alien creatures that had violently destroyed so many lives across the kingdom. Instead of scolding him, Rikky came up with another idea.

“Linux told me the ogres were finding more snakes this year than ever before.” Rikky changed the subject. “Not just the mousers and farm snakes, but rattle fangs and strikers, too. We should all check our blankets good before we crawl in ‘em.”

“Yes, sir,” Captain Will replied.

The rest of the group responded similarly, and soon they were all hunkering down, save for the captain and Olly, who had drawn first watch.

Rikky could have let them sleep, for Silva was a better guardian than all of the party combined, but he didn’t want anyone to know she was as close as she
was. And the younger men needed to learn to keep watch. Men might have tamed the frontier and the foothills, but the mountains were still as formidable as they’d always been.

When he lay down and shut his eyes, Rikky spent a while wondering what the sensation had been. Then he began to wonder if Linux could tell if Silva was there or not. He knew the druid was as powerful as they come, and that he could communicate in the ethereal when necessary, but he wasn’t sure if he’d been tuned in.

He decided to speak with him about things. They had the last watch. Jericho and Pascal were watching with them, which was a good thing, because Rikky needed them for his prank.

After a while, he began to wonder where March was, and if he and Blaze were really still flying over the sea. Then he found sleep, where black-skinned, shark-mawed Sarax devoured families in the streets, and child-sized, grey-skinned goblins feasted on his limbs.