Chronicles of the Four: The Complete Series

by Marissa Farrar

  “Somewhere in our history, we must have Dragonsayers in our family. I am one, and I believe Ridley was, too, though he died before he’d been able to learn what it meant.”

  Her mother’s bafflement didn’t wane. “But ... but ... those are just myths of old. There aren’t any Dragonsayers anymore. There aren’t any dragons.”

  She smiled gently. “There are, Mama. One brought me here.”

  “One what? A dragon?”

  “Yes.”

  Her mother got to her feet and paced their small home. “This is crazy.”

  Dela dug her hand into her pants pocket and pulled out the piece of Dragonstone she’d found. She held it out for her parents to see. “When I was in the north, I visited Drusgra with the three leaders of the other races. We found this there.” She lifted her other hand to hold out the ring she wore around her throat. “Do you see the stone? It matches the one in Ridley’s ring.”

  “So?” Her father frowned, his gaze flicking between the ring and the Dragonstone. “It’s just a piece of stone.”

  “No, it isn’t. On our journey to Drusga, we came across the Fae. Their leader told us this was Dragonstone, and the only people able to touch it are Dragonsayers. I can hold it, and Ridley wore it. Our dreams are linked to it, too.”

  Godfrey shook his head in wonder. “I can’t believe it.”

  “You have to. I’m telling the truth. I wouldn’t lie to you. The dragon brought me back here, and my friends are here, too. We want to stop the war. The other races aren’t our enemies. King and Queen Crowmere, and our rulers before them, have been using us and manipulating us for their own gains, just as they are now. With the help of the dragon and my friends, I want to put a stop to them.”

  “You’re just a girl, Dela! You can’t do anything.”

  Her father’s lack of faith in her hurt her heart, and she thought to Vehel and how he’d been told he was a disappointment his whole life. “You’re wrong, Pops. I’m a Dragonsayer.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Dela

  HER FATHER’S MOUTH dropped open. “A Dragonsayer? That’s ... that’s ... not possible.”

  She offered him a small smile and nodded. “It is, Pops. I rode here on the back of a dragon, I swear it to you. The Dragonstone helps me connect to him, but we’re not fully bonded yet. When we are, things will change around here.”

  She could still see the disbelief in her parents’ eyes. Though she didn’t want either of them to be hurt, she knew she was going to have to show them. She held out the Dragonstone. “Touch this.”

  Godfrey frowned, but leaned in and placed his fingers to the stone. He hissed in a breath over his teeth, and snatched his hand away. “What by the Gods ...?”

  “Only the Dragonsayers can handle Dragonstone. What I’m saying to you is the truth.”

  They exchanged another glance then her mother nodded. “We believe you, Dela. This has just been a lot to take in.”

  Relief flooded through her. “I know. I felt the same way.”

  “So, what happens now?” Godfrey asked.

  “I can’t stay. I have things to do. I need to try to put an end to the war.”

  Johanna bit her lower lip in worry. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “No.” She shook her head sadly. “Just take care of each other.”

  “Wait. I have something to show you.” Her mother got to her feet. She ducked down to pull out a small box from underneath the bed. “When I thought I’d lost both of you, I starting going through some of your old things from when you were children. It brought me some comfort.”

  A painful lump formed in the base of Dela’s throat at the idea of her mother, sitting on the bed, with tears streaming down her face as she went through all of their childhood keepsakes.

  “I found this.” She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Dela. Dela looked down to see a pencil drawing of her and Ridley when they’d been younger—both of them teenagers. “Do you remember that?”

  Dela nodded and stroked her fingers lightly across the picture. “Yes, I do.”

  One of the neighbors had a talent for capturing faces and had asked to draw them for practice. He’d had great aspirations for becoming a painter for the king and queen one day, imagining giant portraits in the most expensive oils. He’d also been picked at The Choosing one year and hadn’t returned home. She guessed he was dead now, too.

  “You should keep it. A way of remembering your brother.”

  But she shook her head and pressed it back into her mother’s hand. “I can’t. You keep it. You’ll want a way of remembering us, too.”

  She realized she’d said ‘us,’ not ‘him.’

  “I would never forget you. Not either of you. I have this home where you both grew up, and all of your baby clothes, and your first teeth, and the first lock of hair I cut from your little heads. Ridley is gone, and you need to live your life now, Dela. You didn’t come all this way to settle back into your old way of life, did you?”

  She clutched the picture to her chest and shook her head. “No, I didn’t, but I feel terrible leaving you both again.”

  “Now we know you’re alive, we can have hope that you will stay that way, and your father and I can live our lives as well. Nature never intended for our children to remain at our sides when they become adults. We wouldn’t have done our jobs right if you weren’t the brave, confident young woman you’ve become, ready to take on her own life.”

  She reached out her hand and squeezed her mother’s. “Things will be changing, Mama. The city will be changing. Xantearos will be changing. This won’t be the last time we meet, I promise. I’ll bring the picture back as well, and then we can all remember Ridley again.”

  She folded the picture of her and her brother and slipped it into the pocket of her leather pants. On a second thought, she pulled it out again, together with the Dragonstone, and went to the side of the house that had served as her bedroom when she’d lived here. She’d been wearing the same clothes for weeks, and though she’d managed to wash them, she needed a change. Nothing she wore was fancy or luxurious, and was basically the same as what she was currently wearing, but it was fresh and not as worn. She pulled over the curtain strung across a wire on the ceiling to offer herself a little privacy, and then changed her pants and vest top for an almost identical pair. She replaced the stone and picture into the pocket of the new pants and shoved her boots back on. The soles were wearing thin after having walked so long and far, but there was no way her family had money for a second pair of boots. She was lucky she had one pair.

  A commotion came from outside, and Dela yanked back the curtain. Her father frowned and went to the doorway.

  “What’s going on?” he asked of a young boy passing by.

  The boy stopped, eager to share gossip. “The City Guard has arrested three foreign men. They’re claiming to be here to parlay with the king, but they don’t have any of their own people with them.”

  Her heart lurched. Of course, she knew exactly who the foreigners were.

  She rushed out to join her father in questioning the boy. “Do you know where they were taken?”

  The boy shrugged. “To the castle dungeon, I expect, where all the other races belong.”

  She bit down on her retort. It wasn’t the boy’s fault he’d been brought up to believe such things, and she didn’t want to do anything to bring attention to herself. Warsgra, Orergon, and Vehel were far from defenseless. They had Vehel’s magic to free themselves, but she still needed to get inside the castle.

  “Thanks,” she told the boy before grabbing her father’s arm and tugging him back inside.

  “What is this, Dela?” her father asked. “What’s going on?”

  An idea formed in her mind. “Is Mr. Willetts still in the city?” she said, asking after the blacksmith she used to work for.

  “Yes, of course. He wasn’t allowed to join the army—not that he’d want to. His work is too important. He’s been forging
new swords and armory ever since news that the Treaty was broken got back to us.”

  “Thank you. I need to go and see him.”

  There was no more time for goodbyes. She flung her arms around both of her parents and kissed their cheeks.

  “Be careful, Dela,” Johanna said.

  “I will. I love you both.”

  With that, she slipped from her family home and went out onto the street. The blacksmith’s forge was only a few streets from here, near the market square. It was still early, but news of the new arrivals had everyone spooked. That, combined with the war, was enough to drive people back inside their homes where they hoped they’d remain safe.

  As she approached, the familiar clang of metal hitting metal and the roar of the fire met her ears. Yolden Willetts sat astride a stool, a mask protecting his face, as he hammered out a breast plate of armor. Sparks of red, orange, and white flew into the air of the dark interior. She waited, not wanting to disturb him while he was working, though the wait was driving her crazy. She shifted from one foot to the other, twisting her fingers together and chewing her lower lip in impatience. What was happening to the others? Were they being beaten? Tortured? She had no idea what went on in the dungeons of the castle, but she couldn’t imagine any of them were good things.

  Yolden finally put down his tools and must have sensed someone standing there. He turned to look over his shoulder, his eyes widening behind the protective mask he wore. “Dela! I thought you were dead!”

  She gave him a small smile. “No. Definitely still alive.”

  “Are you back for your job? I’ve plenty of work going.”

  Her lips twisted, and she wrinkled her nose. “Well ... not quite ... but I am looking for a favor.”

  He frowned. “What kind of favor?”

  She looked over to where a pile of armor and swords had been finished. They lay on top of a small wooden cart. “Do they need to be delivered to the castle?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Can I do the delivery?”

  “Why would you want to do that? You’re not in any trouble, are you?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “No, not at all. I just want to get a look inside.”

  “You’ve worked for me for years, Dela, and you’ve never given me a reason not to trust you, but this does seem out of character, especially as you’ve only just returned. Everyone said you’d died in the Southern Pass.”

  “Clearly, I didn’t. And I promise I won’t get you in any kind of trouble, and I’m not going to steal the armor or weaponry. I just really need to get inside the castle.”

  He put down the hammer and frowned at her, his gloved hands jammed on his hips. “I’m not going to just let you take my last week’s work.”

  “Please, Yolden. This is really important.”

  “So is my work, and I’ve had twice as much to do since you’ve been off gallivanting.”

  She bit down on her irritation, knowing she needed him more than he needed her. “I wasn’t gallivanting. I was one of The Chosen.”

  “Yes, and all the other Chosen who survived were back weeks ago. What exactly have you been doing in all this time?”

  She sighed. “It’s a long story.”

  He snorted. “I bet it is.”

  “Please, Yolden.” Dela hated to beg, but she didn’t have any choice.

  But his expression remained firm. “I said no.”

  “Fine.” She didn’t want to look or act like a petulant child, but she couldn’t help it.

  His lips twisted. “I guess this means you’re not planning on coming back to work any time soon, then?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’ve got other things going on right now.”

  “Things that have to do with your reason for wanting to get inside the castle?” he pressed.

  If he wasn’t going to help her, she didn’t plan on giving him any more information. “Bye, Yolden. See you around.”

  She backed away then turned, looking as though she was walking away from the blacksmith. She sensed his gaze following her, and the moment the feeling faded, she risked a glance over her shoulder. Yolden had turned back to his work, so she slipped into an alley on her left and remained pressed up against the wall to stay hidden. She gave smiles to anyone who passed and tried to look as though she belonged there, while all the while peeping out to the front of the blacksmith’s. Yolden got hot while he worked, which meant he drank a lot of water, and therefore also pissed a lot. There wasn’t a bathroom in the blacksmith’s so he went around the back of the building to urinate. She just needed to wait for him to take a bathroom break.

  She didn’t need to wait long. Yolden downed tools once more and exited the front of the shop. The moment he’d rounded the building, Dela got moving. She ran back in and snatched up the handles of the small wooden cart and pulled. It was heavier than she’d thought, but once she got the wheels turning, the pulling became easier. She needed to move fast.

  With her shoulder muscles screaming in protest, she dragged the cart out into the street. The wheels sounded too loud on the cobbled ground, and she was sure Yolden would hear. She needed to put as much distance as possible between herself and the blacksmith so he wouldn’t be able to catch up with her.

  She ran, leaving the blacksmith behind her.

  But she hadn’t been quite fast enough.

  “Dela Stonebridge!” Yolden’s roar chased her down the alley.

  “I’m taking it to the castle, I promise,” she yelled over her shoulder. “I’m doing you a favor!”

  She didn’t dare look to see if he was giving chase. He’d known her for years, and she hoped he’d wait to see if she did take it to the castle or not. If it turned out she’d stolen the armor, then she guessed he’d make sure she got in trouble for it, but if she actually took the armor where it was supposed to go, he probably wouldn’t want to cause her any problems.

  To her relief, he didn’t seem to be giving chase, and she allowed herself to slow her pace. Her breath heaved in and out of her lungs, and her arms and shoulders ached. But the journey of the past couple of weeks had left her fit and strong, and she covered the distance quickly. The walls and gate of the castle were on the other side of the square. City Guards stood on each side of the gate, and they drew themselves up to full height as she approached.

  “Delivery from the blacksmith,” she said, trying not to show how she was gasping for breath. Her face burned, but she hoped they wouldn’t interpret her red cheeks as guilt.

  One of the men stomped forward, a frown marking his forehead. He bypassed her and checked the contents of the cart. The City Guard turned to his comrade and moved his finger in a winding motion. “Let her through.”

  The metal gate lifted with a crunch. Dela waited impatiently, still worried Yolden had followed her, but finally the gate was high enough for her to slip beneath, dragging the cart along behind her.

  Her heartrate had already been fast from the physical exercise, but now it raced for a whole other reason. She was inside the castle’s curtain walls, and in the courtyard. Somehow she needed to find Warsgra, Orergon, and Vehel. She needed to locate the dungeon, and then hope she didn’t end up in it as well. She had another reason to be in the castle as well. The Seer had told her that to win the dragon’s trust, she should find the dragon egg locked in the castle vaults. She assumed they would be underground, just like the dungeons were, so at least she’d be heading in the right direction.

  “Armory’s over there,” another guard grunted at her, motioning with his head in the direction of the side of the castle, beyond the stables where a number of elegant looking horses snorted and pawed the ground.

  She smiled her thanks, put her head down, and kept going. She longed to stop for a moment and stretch out her arms and shoulders, but she also wanted to look as though she knew where she was going. If she looked as though she belonged, she’d be less likely to be questioned.

  Passing the stables, she stopped at the
armory and left the cart there. She didn’t want Yolden to get in trouble for not delivering the goods. Checking she was still alone, she slipped back out, her heart hammering. She was just waiting for someone to call out to her, questioning what she was doing there, but no one did. Instead of turning back the way she’d come, she kept going, walking beneath an archway and into a walled tunnel which led along the east side of the castle.

  To her right, a heavy wooden door stood ajar. It led into the main part of the castle, and from there she hoped she’d be able to find a staircase that would take her beneath to the dungeons and vault.

  Dela checked either side of her to make sure no one was looking, and then slipped inside. Thick stone walls and a flagstone floor made up this passage, and she hurried along, her heart pounding, unsure if she was even going the right way. The only light came from narrow windows high in the walls, and the result was a dark, oppressive space, despite the bright sunshine outside.

  The sound of footsteps against stone came from behind her, and panic surged through her veins. She looked around, frantic, trying to find somewhere to hide, but there was nothing here. Remembering her promise to herself to look as though she belonged, she kept walking, her head down. She expected to feel a heavy hand on her shoulder, together with gruff demands to know what her business was here, but instead she heard something else.

  “Dela?”

  Someone had called her name.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Orergon

  ORERGON WRAPPED HIS fingers around the bars of his cell and pressed his face against the cool metal to get a better view out into the dungeon where they were being held. A couple of guards were slumped against the wall, apparently bored, but armed with swords. The moment anyone made any kind of noise, the guards came to life, using their swords to strike the metal of the cell bars to get them to shut up again.