Read The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga Online

Authors: Josh VanBrakle

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The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga (34 page)

BOOK: The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga
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Without warning, the burning sphere leapt
forward, Amroth at its center. Rondel’s eyes widened in shock. The
king hadn’t moved a muscle to launch his attack, so Lightning Sight
provided no warning whatsoever.

Still, just enough distance separated them
that she avoided Amroth and got behind him. The Liryometa hurtled
toward Amroth’s neck. When it impacted the flames, however, an
unexpected resistance stopped it. As though they had become solid,
the fires repelled Rondel’s strike and knocked her off-guard.

Lightning Sight gave her only a split second
of notice as Amroth’s left arm swung around and the Karyozaki’s tip
emerged from the flames. Rondel leapt backward, but her off-balance
posture made her slow. Searing pain ripped through her as the blade
slashed a long line across her cheek. She fell to her knees,
grasping at her face. It felt like Amroth had poured magma into the
open wound. Through the agony, the wound made her realize why the
Karyozaki gave off its distinctive red glow. Feng’s magic
superheated it.

Amroth laughed. “Not bad! That swing was
meant to behead you.”

Rondel snarled in frustration. She’d known
Amroth would be unlike any opponent she’d faced. Every other Dragon
Knight fought alone, simply drawing on the dragon’s magic for
additional strength. The Karyozaki’s botched reforging, however,
meant that in Amroth’s case, Feng could actively intervene. They
might occupy one body, but she battled two opponents all the same.
The fire shield’s repulsion of her thrust convinced Rondel of that.
Amroth couldn’t have followed her movements, nor could he have
tracked the Liryometa well enough to time the block. Feng
could.

The realization that she fought both Amroth
and Feng filled her with dread, but it also gave her a sliver of
optimism. If she could hold out long enough, maybe she could win.
Her plan was risky and far too slow considering the dangers her
friends faced, but it was the only chance she had.

Steeling herself, Rondel rose and charged
the king at full speed, her body flickering as she raced over the
plain. She ducked and dodged, weaved in and out, striking quick
blows with her rondel. The fire stopped every attack, and each time
Amroth countered with his sword. All the while, Rondel kept
Lightning Sight focused on him, never wavering, barely
blinking.

As she frantically maneuvered, her enhanced
senses noticed Amroth start breathing heavily. Maintaining the
fireball evidently required considerable magic. Feng could control
the sphere, but the dragon could only use magic he channeled
through Amroth.

After what felt like an endless procession
of blows, counterblows, blocks, and narrow escapes, the fire’s
intensity changed. It pushed less strongly against her attacks.
Sensing victory, she leapt forward, thrusting the Liryometa to
direct all her energy at a single point. The rondel easily pierced
the outer layer of Amroth’s shield, but then the fire changed
shape. It had formerly engulfed the king, but now it focused only
on the point Rondel had struck. For a moment the two techniques
clashed, sparks and flames erupting from the impact in a blinding
shower. Then, with a blast of heat, Amroth’s magic shot around the
Liryometa. The flame impacted Rondel like a battering ram, knocking
her back fifty feet, sprawling in the dirt. Amroth collapsed on his
hands and knees, sweat pouring from his body. The fires around him
vanished, leaving the pair in black night.

Rondel groaned and tried to move, then
yelped as agony filled her left arm. The landing had broken it just
below the elbow. The Liryometa lay a few feet away, torn free of
her grip. Groping, she recovered it with her right hand and
struggled to her feet. The pulsing in her arm made her dizzy, but
she knew her strategy had worked. She walked over to where the king
still knelt. He’d begun coughing up blood.


It’s over, Amroth.” Rondel
tried to make her voice firm, but it quivered slightly from the
pain. “As I said, you don’t understand strength. That flame shield
may have protected you, but no one can maintain a spell like that
for long. I knew you didn’t have the control necessary for an
extended battle. Actually, I had to teach Iren the same lesson.
You’ve exhausted your magic. Please, preserve your sanity. Toss
aside that flawed sword and accept death gracefully. Do it for
Lodia, for peace.”

The king looked at Rondel, and to the old
Maantec’s amazement, tears and a wild, terrified expression covered
Amroth’s face. “Rondel!” he wailed, and his voice now sounded the
way it had the day they’d departed Haldessa, “Kill me! Kill me
before he comes back! Feng, he’s insane! He’s planning to—”

Amroth never finished, because at that
moment, violent, wrenching laughter exited his lips, and then
Rondel’s whole world exploded.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Ziorsecth Rises

 

 

On the edge of Ziorsecth Forest, Iren
Saitosan waited with held breath as the Lodian army closed for the
slaughter. Seconds earlier, he’d seen the pillar of flame disappear
and a huge fireball he assumed was Amroth fly away from the army.
He couldn’t spot Rondel, but he could picture her drawing the king
away from the main battle. It was a smart tactic. According to
Balear, they faced a large but unmotivated army. Keep Amroth away
from the forest, and the Kodamas might just win.

That is, if any of them showed up. Iren kept
glancing behind him, but he couldn’t spot a single Kodama inside
the tree line. Part of him feared they’d simply given up and fled.
Aletas could just be using him and Rondel, putting them in front to
kill as many as possible before dying.

Another part, the larger part, felt
differently. The queen had said she’d chosen salvation, and Iren
believed her. Aletas trusted him to fight alongside the Kodamas. He
would trust the Kodamas to fight alongside him.

The Lodians’ torches provided Iren his first
hint that something had changed. All at once, a dozen or so of the
lights at the head of the approaching column faltered. A second
later, the humans’ screams reached him. Then, all around him, he
noticed a shift in the forest. The night birds and insects stopped
calling. The owls, as he remembered Minawë pointing out to him in
Akaku, ceased hooting. In their place was a low thrum that seemed
to come from everywhere.

With each passing second, the screams of the
dying humans grew louder. Their lines broke down as the
undisciplined conscripts panicked. Rondel’s words came to Iren:
“That’s the point, slacker. You can’t see them, and neither can
they.”

Now he understood. The reason he hadn’t
spotted any Kodamas on the battlefield was because they weren’t on
it. They were above it, in the treetops, firing their bows as fast
as they could manage. The narrow openings between the upper
branches functioned like arrow slits, and with their green hair and
brown wooden armor, no one could see them. By contrast, the
Lodians’ torches and exposed position on the plain made the humans
easy targets.

Iren wished the Lodian soldiers would save
themselves and withdraw, but whether through a few skilled leaders
or their deep-seated fear of Amroth, they gradually regrouped. He
couldn’t tell their losses, but Iren knew the arrow barrage must
have been devastating. Even so, the tactic had run its course. The
Lodians now realized they couldn’t remain on the forest outskirts.
Worse, they had figured out their torches simply made them more
obvious targets. Dousing their lights, the Lodian army fell into
blackness. The arrows continued, but the screams came less
often.

Then a new, far more terrible sound joined
the din: thundering feet. The enemy soldiers charged for the forest
as quickly as possible. No doubt they hoped that once inside, they
would be less exposed to the withering projectile rain.

As the Lodians ran, Iren heard the first
Kodaman cries from behind and above him in the trees. The attackers
had figured out where their enemies were, and while the humans
could both run and shoot over the darkened plain, the Kodamas were
essentially trapped. They needed to stay close to the tree line in
order to fire.

Iren raised his shield, guarding himself in
case a stray arrow tried to find him. This point in the battle was
why Rondel had wanted him to hold his position. The crafty bat knew
the Lodians would make a break for the forest. Once they reached
the trees, firing from the canopy would become all but impossible,
thanks to the tight interlocking branches of Ziorsecth’s joined
trunks. If Iren could dam even a small portion of the enemy army
outside the forest, though, he would give the Kodamas time to trim
their numbers that much more. Drawing the Muryozaki, he steadied
himself to fight for his life.

The first wave of soldiers hit him less than
a minute later. For a long time after that, he couldn’t remember
what happened. He saw only flashes as his world dissolved into a
never-ending series of attacks, blocks, and screams. More than one
glancing blow landed on him, but the Muryozaki healed his injuries.
After the first couple enemy strikes hit him, he used magic to
increase his speed and strength so that the Lodians couldn’t keep
pace. The ground near him became slick with blood. Caught in a
nightmare, the ever-rising pile of corpses made maneuvering ever
more difficult. Soon his boosted speed gave him little advantage,
because he simply had nowhere to go.

Just as Iren became convinced he would drown
in the death he was creating, the enemy onslaught abruptly ceased.
Glancing about, he realized he stood alone on the plain. He had cut
through those rushing his position, but many more had gone right
past him.

The thrum of bowstrings fell silent, and an
eerie calm settled over Lodia and Ziorsecth alike. Iren took a
moment to collect himself. He wondered how many he’d slain, and how
many still remained. He had no idea, but he doubted the Kodamas
held the advantage.

In any case, standing around granted him
little. Charging into the forest, he readied his sword but saw
nothing. He heard nothing. The sounds of battle had vanished,
despite the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of remaining foes.

As he stumbled through Ziorsecth, searching
in vain for someone, friend or foe, the leaves on a nearby
blackberry bush suddenly stirred. Not the faintest breeze passed
through the forest understory; something had made the plant move.
An enemy must have hidden himself in the shrub. Iren leapt forward,
slashing the Muryozaki. It passed easily through the briars,
carving away branches but nothing more. Frowning, Iren examined the
bush closer. It was empty.


Stupid squirrels,” he
muttered. He was on edge enough without the wildlife adding to his
stress.

He’d just resumed his search when a second
bush stirred. This time, instead of attacking, he held his
position, waiting to see what would happen. As he watched in
nervous anticipation, the bush moved again. This time, he noticed
other shrubs dancing as well, and something else. From deeper in
the forest came a low, slithering sound. Iren panicked, fearing the
approach of some monster. The terrifying noise grew in intensity,
increasing in volume until it came from all directions. It sounded
like a giant serpent winding its way between the trees.

Iren’s breathing came in ragged gasps, and
sweat dripped from his body. He hadn’t counted on this. Amroth must
have kept some dark magic beast in reserve, waiting for the right
moment to attack.

Frantic shouts and crashing feet rushed
toward him. Iren raised his sword, determined to fight Amroth’s
monster. A shape flailed in the dark in front of him, but ally or
enemy he couldn’t tell. Holding his attack, Iren watched the person
approach and then flee straight past him as though he didn’t
exist.

Then Iren saw, not ten feet away, a pair of
eyes gleaming in the dark. Dropping his shield, Iren focused magic
into his right palm. Whatever this demon was, if it wanted to eat
him, he’d make it suffer first. As he raised his hand to fire,
however, a familiar voice issued from the direction of the eyes,
“Hold, Maantec. I’m not your enemy.”

Iren hesitated, but then he halted his
spell. “My queen?”

Aletas walked up to him, the Chloryoblaka
gripped in her right hand. “What do you think?” she asked, a smirk
reminiscent of Rondel on her face.


Think of what?” Iren
asked. “What’s going on here?”

The queen’s grin did not relent. “Don’t you
know? Maantecs never were bright. Come with me; I’ll show you.”

The queen led Iren through the woods back
toward Lodia. The moment he reached the tree line, he gasped. All
along the forest edge, he could see humans fleeing the forest. On
their heels stampeded a horde of plants. Vines raced across the
ground, whipping up and entangling foes. Briar bushes followed,
slicing their enemies apart with spines. No matter how fast the men
ran, the plants overtook them. Iren shuddered.


Behold the power of
Dendryl, the Forest Dragon. Ziorsecth will rise and defend itself
when enemies threaten it,” Aletas said. Her earlier smile had
disappeared, and now not a flicker of enjoyment crossed her face.
“This was my husband’s favorite spell, and it’s the reason the
Maantecs couldn’t invade Ziorsecth. I never thought I would use
it.”

Iren’s jaw dropped. “You did this?”

Aletas looked ill. “Yes, and it’s taken its
toll. The Lodians are retreating not a second too soon. I can’t
control the plants any longer.”

The queen dropped to one knee, panting, and
Iren rushed to her side. At first she recoiled, but then her
exhaustion caught up with her. She leaned heavily against him,
permitting him to support her weight.

When the Kodama’s breathing calmed a little,
Iren glanced north toward Rondel and Amroth’s location. The fires
had disappeared, which he took as a good sign.

BOOK: The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga
2.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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