Chronicles of the Four: The Complete Series

by Marissa Farrar

  “By the Gods,” Warsgra swore. “I need a weapon.”

  Orergon bent and pulled a small blade from his boot and tossed it to Warsgra. “Here.”

  Warsgra caught the knife by the hilt. The blade was barely the size of his hand, but it would have to do. He’d have to move fast if he stood any chance of not losing an arm.

  He counted the men of the City Guard. Five of them, so they were outnumbered.

  “Back up!” he called to Vehel and Orergon.

  They were going to struggle to win this.

  Moving as one person, the three of them walked backward, trying to put more space between them and the City Guard. Warsgra quickly went into fight mode, and he scanned the men of the City Guard for any points of weakness he’d be able to attack. The men wore partial sets of armor—chainmail breast plates, helmets but without the face guards, forearm guards, and leg guards. There were areas that were exposed—the armpits and the backs of the knees, and the throat where the helmet met the gorget. But he’d need to get up close and personal to be able to deliver a strike with his blade in one of those spots.

  Vehel continued to let his arrows fly. One of the arrow heads struck a City Guard in the calf, and the man let out a cry, staggering back to take shelter behind his comrades. As he tried to move, his leg refused to cooperate, and he fell, landing on the arrow, snapping the shaft and driving the arrowhead deeper into the muscle.

  Vehel’s arrows kept the men back for the moment, but that wouldn’t last. He’d run out soon enough.

  More footsteps came from behind them, and Warsgra glanced over his shoulder to discover a second group of City Guard running toward them. They were trapped.

  Even if Vehel had an endless supply of arrows, he wouldn’t be able to release them in two directions at the same time.

  “Use your magic, Vehel.”

  The Elvish prince shot him a glance. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Warsgra lifted his eyebrows. “Why not? We’re in a bit of a situation here.”

  “If I use my magic in front of everyone like this, I might as well write on my forehead that I was the one who broke the Treaty. You think that’s going to end well for me? For any of us?”

  “If we end up dead, that’s not going to end so well either.”

  “They won’t kill us,” Vehel said. “Not right away, anyway. They’ll want to find out who we are and what we’re doing here. Let them, and I’ll use my magic to get us out when no one is looking.”

  “Any idea on who we say we are?” Warsgra asked.

  “We’ve come for a parlay with the king and queen. A way to talk this through.”

  Orergon nodded in agreement. “It’s a good idea. It’ll get us inside the castle, at least.”

  Warsgra stood, brandishing his dagger. The City Guards’ men approached, cautiously at first, but then with more confidence as they realized Vehel had run out of arrows. Warsgra was a good fighter, but he didn’t like his chances with one dagger against ten full sized swords.

  “Wait!” he called out to the men. “We’re not here to fight. We want an audience with King and Queen Crowmere.”

  The City Guards’ men cast uncertain glances at each other, unsure how to proceed with this news.

  “My name is Orergon Ortiz of the Moerians,” Orergon announced from beside him. “This is Warsgra Tuskeye of the Norcs. And this is Prince Vehel Dawngleam. We’ve traveled a long way, as I’m sure you can see. None of us wants to die today. Take us to see your king, and we won’t put up a fight.”

  “You’ve already injured my men,” an older member of the City Guard snarled.

  “You were coming at us with swords,” Orergon continued. “We were just trying to buy ourselves some time.”

  The people of Anthoinia had made themselves scarce while all of this was going on. They clearly didn’t want to get caught up in the fray.

  Orergon straightened himself to his full height. “If you harm us before your king and queen get the chance to speak with us, they’re not going to be pleased with you. I imagine such a thing would end in punishment for yourselves, and I don’t imagine that punishment would come lightly.”

  Warsgra watched the men’s faces. They shifted uncomfortably as Orergon’s words sank in, and a couple of them allowed the points of their swords to drift lower to the ground. They looked toward the older man who’d spoken before, clearly looking for some guidance about what to do next.

  The older man didn’t address Orergon, but jerked his chin to his men. “Take them in. Lock them in the dungeon until we can speak with King Crowmere. The King will most likely ask for their heads anyway, so no matter if we do it here, out in the street, or in the castle’s dungeons.”

  The City Guard surged forward on both sides. Warsgra held himself back from his natural urge to fight, and he gritted his teeth when one of the men kicked him in the shin, and then plucked the dagger out of his hand. It would have only taken him a matter of seconds to slit the man’s throat, but he held himself back. They needed to get inside the castle walls, and right now this appeared to be the best way to do it. Unless Vehel used his magic, they weren’t going to win this fight, and as the Elvish prince pointed out, using magic out here in the open, with citizens of Anthoinia looking on, probably wouldn’t be the wisest of decisions.

  Even so, when one of the City Guard grabbed one of his arms, and a second man took hold of the other side, it pained Warsgra to allow the two smaller men to push him along. He threw a glance at Orergon and Vehel, and could tell from the expressions on their faces that they, too, were having a hard time in not fighting back.

  This is for Dela, he told himself. Once within the castle walls, they could search for the dragon egg the Seer had told her to find. He imagined presenting the egg to her, and how happy she would be.

  That was assuming she was still alive.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Dela

  IT FELT AS THOUGH THEY’D been flying forever. The sun had risen higher in the sky then gone down again, and still the dragon hadn’t needed to rest. Dela was flying among the stars, the ground below in total darkness, as though it did not even exist. The warmth of the dragon’s scales eventually lulled her to sleep. She had no fear of falling, trusting that he would sense her slipping and adjust his position if needed.

  When she woke, the sun hadn’t yet risen, but when she dared peep over the side of the dragon’s body, there was more than just darkness below. Small flames illuminated the area far beneath them in the shape of a huge circle, and she knew what she was looking at. Those were the torches burning on the great wall surrounding Anthoinia.

  She was finally home.

  How she was going to get down there, however, was another matter. She knew the dragon wouldn’t want to be seen. Would the cover of darkness be enough to hide his massive body and wingspan? Or had he realized the time had come when he needed to come out of hiding?

  The dragon circled, gliding lower and lower. Dela risked leaning forward, trying to spot her home, but it was impossible to discern amongst the rabbit warren of alleyways and houses. Still, she knew which side of the river she lived on, and as they lost height, she was able to make out the market square.

  No, it wasn’t only because they were losing height. The sun was beginning to rise. When it did, the people of Anthoinia would rise, too, and if any of them deigned to look up, they would see an enormous dragon circling the skies above them.

  She recognized the quarter where her family home was located. She wished she could put her hand on the Dragonstone she carried in her pocket and imprint on the dragon’s mind the exact location of her house, but she didn’t want to risk doing that. For him to reject her now would be more than heartbreaking—it could kill her. All it would take was a tilt of his body and she’d fall to her death.

  “Over there.” She pointed to the area she needed. Did the dragon even understand what she was saying? She had no idea. But he did seem to bank in that direction, and her heart lif
ted with hope.

  The dragon wouldn’t be able to land in the middle of the city, however, not without causing uproar. They still had the cover of darkness on their side, and they needed to use it. She didn’t want the dragon to be seen—not yet, anyway—and especially not by the City Guard, who would be sure to report back to King Crowmere. The sight of a dragon in the city would be sure to cause alarm, and they would put up their defenses and make it far harder for her to enter the castle. Even in the dark, if someone happened to be wandering around, they’d notice the gigantic dragon circling to land. Of course, the only people who tended to be wandering the streets when it was dark were those who’d been in the taverns all night, and no one was likely to believe anything they said anyway.

  Was that where Vehel and Warsgra and Orergon were now? Or were they somewhere else in the city? She prayed to the Gods that they’d made it there safely. She trusted Vehel’s magic, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t run into trouble when they’d arrived. She missed them immensely. Did they feel the same way about her? Did they even know she was still alive? She was starting to grow weary of everyone she cared about thinking she was dead.

  They would use the wall surrounding the city as further protection from prying eyes, though Dela would need to get off on this side of the wall rather than on the outside. If she was on the outside, the City Guard might not let her in, and she couldn’t afford to take that risk.

  The streets were too narrow for the dragon to land, so it chose a rooftop. The houses on the outskirts of the city were owned by the richer families, and they tended to be larger and with more space around them. The dragon settled on the roof with a crunch of claws on thatch that must have woken whoever was inside. But he did so with surprising grace and used his wings to balance his body weight to prevent them crashing through the roof and into the house below. For a moment, Dela wondered how she was going to get down, but the dragon spread out one of his wings, creating a sling for her to reach the ground upon.

  “Thank you,” she told him as she clambered down the smooth skin of his wing and onto the ground below. She wished he could stay, but that would be impossible. A dragon didn’t belong in a city like this—not yet, anyway. Perhaps, if things changed, there would come a time where dragons circling the sky would be no more unusual than seeing buzzards hovered in the eddies, but that day was not today.

  The dragon didn’t make a sound as he beat his wings and lifted his massive body into the air. She stood and watched him lift higher and higher into the darkness of the night sky until he was only a black spec, and then he vanished altogether. She missed him already. Flying with a dragon had been the most incredible experience of her life, and she wanted to do it again, but she had other things she needed to deal with. She prayed to the Gods that flying with him had simply been the first time of many.

  Movement came from inside the house, and then a voice called out, “Hey, what was that?”

  Dela darted away, running light-footed down the street, away from the house. People would question what she was doing there, and she wouldn’t exactly be able to tell them the truth.

  The dragon had dropped her in her quarter of the city, but it was still a good walk to get home.

  Home.

  Nerves and excitement in equal measures roiled inside her stomach. She was going to see her parents again. She prayed they were all right, and the news of what had happened in the Southern Pass hadn’t hit them too hard. She wondered what else she would hear, too. Which of her traveling companions had survived to make it home again? Some of them must have for news of Vehel using magic to make it back to Anthoinia. In her heart, she prayed her friend Layla had been one of those survivors, though she didn’t want to give herself hope. The chances would be extremely unlikely.

  She moved at a fast pace through the streets. Daylight was almost upon them, but she was aware of the all the normal dangers of a young woman walking the streets of Anthoinia alone. She hadn’t come all this way just to be raped and murdered by one of her own people.

  She’d slept while riding on the dragon, and had been well fed at the Seer’s cavern, so physically she felt strong and was able to keep up her speed. Gradually, she started to recognize the streets around her as being those she’d grown up on. Her heart thrummed in her chest, and her mouth ran dry. It was crazy to be nervous about seeing her parents, but she was.

  Dela reached her street and slowed her pace. She felt lightheaded and a little nauseated, but she couldn’t have explained why she was so nervous. The sun had risen now, and it was strange to see the narrow alleyway leading to her home looking exactly as she had left it. Unsteady steps took her closer to her house, until finally she stopped in the open doorway of their one-room home. It felt like a lifetime ago since she’d last been here, as though the memory of this place had only come from her dreams, and now standing here felt unreal. A familiar shape stood with her back to her in the corner they used as their kitchen. Dela’s breath caught and tears filled her eyes. Her nostrils flared as she did her best to hold back a sob, and she clamped her hand to her mouth.

  “Mama?”

  Her voice came out strangled, but the shape spun around to face her. Her mother’s eyes, so like hers and Ridley’s, widened at the sight of her, and she cupped her own hand to her mouth in a mimic of Dela’s actions.

  “Dela? Is that really you? Tell me I’m not seeing things.”

  At the sight of her daughter, Johanna’s eyes flooded with tears and Dela found herself unable to keep her own at bay.

  “It’s me, Mama. I came home. I’m alive.”

  “Oh, by the Gods!”

  They both stumbled forward, meeting halfway and scooping each other up in their arms. Sobs of happiness burst from their lungs, and they hugged and kissed through salty tears.

  Movement came from out back. “What’s going—?”

  Her father’s words cut off as he saw his daughter standing in the middle of their home.

  “Dela?”

  “Hello, Pops.”

  “Oh, Gods, Dela! We thought you were dead.”

  She crossed their small house to hug her father, Godfrey. “I know. I’m so sorry. I wish there had been some way to get word back to let you know I was all right.”

  He held her at arm’s length and looked her up and down, as though inspecting her for injuries. “The few who made it back said everyone else had perished in the Long White Cloud.”

  Her heart lifted with hope “Who made it back?”

  He shook his head. “Not Layla. I’m sorry. It was a couple of the younger men.”

  Fresh tears filled her eyes, and she blinked and glanced away. “It’s okay. I kind of knew that in my heart.”

  He clasped her chin between his finger and thumb and looked into her face. “What happened to you? Where have you been all this time?”

  She untangled herself from his grasp. “I got caught up in the trouble in the Southern Pass, and I ended up a long way from here, all the way in the north.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened. “The north? Who were you in the north with?”

  “Members of the other races. They took care of me.”

  “Other races? Didn’t they hurt you?”

  Dela gave a small laugh at the idea. “Not in the slightest.”

  “But what were you doing there all this time?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said, exhaling a sigh.

  Her mother caught her by the arm and pulled her over to the bed. She sat first and tugged Dela down to sit beside her. Her father grabbed a wooden chair from beside the small table they owned and took a seat in front of them.

  “We want to hear it,” Johanna said. “You have all the time in the world now you’re back.”

  Sadly, Dela shook her head. “But I don’t. I’m sorry, Mama,” she looked to her father, “Pops. I can’t stay.”

  Her father, Godfrey, bristled. “What are you talking about, Dela? You’re home now. Where else would you be going?”

  �
�I have other things I need to do.”

  His face grew taut with tension, and he half rose to standing. “Haven’t you heard? We’re at war now! You can’t just go wandering off again.”

  “I know that, Pops. That’s partly why I’m here.”

  Anger deepened on his face, but he dropped back into his seat. “What?”

  Her mother shook her head in bewilderment. “What are you talking about, Dela?”

  Her mind whirred, trying to think of the best way to explain things to them. The things she’d seen and experienced were so outside of the realm of her parents’ normality that it was as though she was sitting down to tell them a fairytale. She needed to ground what she had to say in the things her mother and father knew and understood, to connect it with them, somehow.

  “Did Ridley ever talk about his dreams?” she said eventually.

  Johanna frowned. “His dreams? Not that I can remember.”

  “So he didn’t have a reoccurring dream about flying?”

  Her father leaned forward in his chair. “That’s a strange question, Dela.”

  “Because I do,” she continued. “I mean, I have most of my life, and while I was away, I found out why. The thing is, I think Ridley might have shared those same dreams, too.”

  Her parents glanced at one another, matching expressions of confusion on their faces.

  “What about Dragonsayers?” she asked. “Did he ever mention those to you?”

  Johanna shook her head. “No. Why would he?”

  Godfrey stared at her, his expression serious. It appeared he was starting to see what she was getting at. “What have you learned, Dela?”

  She bit her lip, unsure how much to tell them. It wasn’t that she didn’t think they’d understand, it was that she knew they’d try to stop her, and there was no possibility that life existed for her any more. She loved her parents with all her heart, but if they loved her, too, they needed to set her free now. She needed to go out into the world and become what was in her destiny. Their world was so small, and hers had grown exponentially over the last few weeks. Her future was so much greater than it could ever be if she’d remained in this house.