Chronicles of the Four: The Complete Series

by Marissa Farrar

  Vehel gritted his teeth and pushed.

  The magic flooded out of him, flowing down his fingertips and spreading out.

  “Vehel!” Dela gasped.

  He opened his eyes.

  The dragon’s scales were no longer their iridescent greens. Instead, a blue light covered each and every one of the dragon’s scales, flooding over his wings and spines and tail. And not only that, the magic covered the riders, too, creating a glow around them all.

  The archers on the ground had paused momentarily, most likely taken aback by this new development and unsure how to react to it, but then they must have been given the command, as they all drew back their bows in unison, and a second later the sky was filled with arrows again.

  A number of heads found their mark, but instead of piercing skin or scales, they glanced off as though hitting a wall.

  Dela twisted to toward Vehel. Her skin glowed blue with his magic. “What did you do, Vehel?”

  “Protection,” he called back through gritted teeth. He needed to stay focused to keep the magic strong. “You can land. They can’t hurt us.”

  What would his people do when they saw him? Would his presence make them more or less likely to want to hurt them all?

  But he knew they had no choice but to descend. To make this work, Dela needed the Elvish to be on board with her plans. If any of the races were against uniting the races of Xantearos, Dela’s ruling would fall apart. The whole reason the Treaty had been signed was to prevent the races fighting each other, and if she couldn’t convince them that the loss of the Treaty and this new way of life was a good thing, then this would all be pointless.

  The archers below seemed to realize their arrows weren’t working. The dragon descended, and the Elvish backed away, creating space outside of the castle for him to land. As he landed, the dragon opened his mouth and exhaled a stream of fire. It was a warning, not hurting anyone, but it forced them back and let the Elvish know what he was capable of.

  Now they were firmly on the ground, Vehel got to his feet. He was still on the dragon’s back, but he didn’t want to climb down in case it broke the spell. It was an awkward movement, his feet planted at an angle while he continued to hold onto one of the large spines running down the middle of Torggu’s body, but he needed for his people to see and recognize him.

  “It’s Prince Vehel Dawngleam!” someone cried.

  “Prince Dawngleam?”

  “Vehel Dawngleam.”

  His name was picked up and carried across the stunned Elvish.

  His father and brothers would make an appearance at any moment. There was no way they didn’t know what was going on. The appearance of a giant dragon would certainly have been enough to get their attention, but now the not-so-prodigal son had also returned.

  He was right. Movement came from the front of the castle, and, with Elvish soldiers leading the way, his father strode up to them, Vehel’s two brothers, Vehten and Vanthum, close behind.

  “Stand down,” his father’s voice bellowed.

  The archers had already stood down. They hadn’t had any choice. Not that it would have made any difference. They were all still protected by his magic, though he could feel it depleting his resources. This wasn’t something he’d be able to keep up for much longer.

  Vehel resisted the urge to drop to one knee. In time gone by, that was exactly what he would have done in the presence of his father, the king of the Elvish, but Dela was his queen now.

  Now that he’d been recognized, he risked letting go of the dragon’s spine and releasing his magic. He felt the magic relax, though it remained as a glow across Torggu’s scales which would vanish in time. He jumped down from the dragon’s back and moved to stand at his head. He was aware of the others following suit behind him.

  “Father. I’m back.”

  His father scowled. At his side were Vehel’s brothers, his oldest brother, Vehten and the middle brother, Vanthum. He sensed Dela flicking her attention between the two Elvish princes, trying to figure out which was which, and who was responsible for taking her brother.

  “So I see. What is all of this, Vehel? Who are these people? Where did you find a dragon?”

  “Things have changed in Xantearos since I left here, Father. I’ve come here as a courtesy, to speak with you, Elvish to Elvish.”

  His father’s eyes widened, his nostrils flared. “How dare you speak to me as though I’m your equal.”

  “No, we’re not equals. You’re my father and I’m your son, and nothing will ever change that. But Xantearos is changing, and so will the Inverlands, whether you like it or not.”

  His scowl deepened. “Nothing changes in the Inverlands without my say-so.”

  Footsteps fell into place at his side, and he glanced over to see Dela step in beside him. She no longer had Iros in her arms, and Vehel assumed she’d left the baby dragon on Torggu’s back.

  “King Dawngleam, my name is Dela Stonebridge,” she said, addressing his father. “I’m a Dragonsayer and the next ruler of Xantearos. I plan to remove King Crowmere from the throne, and I would like the Elvish behind me when I do so.”

  His father’s lips thinned. “Why would we do that? We are content here in the Inverlands.”

  “Content with giving your diamonds to the king in return for food? Would you not prefer the freedom to live where and how you want?”

  “Things have worked this way for one hundred and fifty years. How old are you, girl? Do you know how old some of the Elvish are? I myself am over two hundred years old, and you come here expecting me to do what? Bow down to you?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve not asked for bowing. I’ve asked for support and cooperation.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “Then you will force my hand. Others have tried to stand against me, and I’ve not suffered them lightly. I’m sure you haven’t missed the presence of the dragon, sir—both the adult dragon and the baby.” She gestured behind her. “Dragonsayers have always been the ones to rule Xantearos. We’d forced the dragons into hiding, but that’s changed now. Everything has changed. I would rather have you with me than against me.”

  Vehel watched a muscle twitch beside his father’s left eye.

  The Dawngleams might be the royal family for the Elvish, but they weren’t recognized as having any kind of sovereignty in the rest of Xantearos. King Crowmere was the one who ruled over Xantearos, and if Dela was to replace him, then she would also rule over the Elvish. King Crowmere and the kings who had come before him allowed the Dawngleam family to continue with their title and continue ruling over their small corner of Xantearos. But that was only allowed out of respect for how ancient the Elvish royal family were. They went back for centuries, even to before humans came along and took over everything. Dela didn’t owe it to them to allow them to retain the title. If she became ruler of Xantearos, she could easily take it away.

  For Vehel, being a prince had caused him nothing but trouble. He’d hated the expectations set upon him because of his birthname. But he knew the Elvish thought highly of their royal family. If Dela tried to take it away from them, she might find herself without the support of the Elvish.

  It would be a delicate balancing act for Dela—getting his father to acknowledge her leadership, while not upsetting the rest of the Elvish. He hoped he’d be able to help with it, but he sensed this wouldn’t be easy. Nothing to do with his father had ever been easy.

  “Very well, Dela Stonebridge,” his father said eventually. “I will welcome you into my home as a guest, and I will expect you to behave as such.” His gaze moved to the dragon. “I’m afraid there will not be room for your dragons in the castle, however. Perhaps they could be moved to our stables.” The stables housed the kingdom’s finest stags—huge, majestic beasts with antlers that branched high into the sky.

  Dela’s lips pinched. “I’m afraid the dragons are not ours to stable. They fly free, and always will. Plus, I suspect they would see your stag as an offer of a meal rath
er than a stablemate.”

  That tick beside his eye again. King Dawngleam may be acting politely, for the moment, but his true feelings were barely restrained. “Then I guess we have no choice,” he replied with a tight smile. “But please make sure they don’t decide one of our citizens would also make a good meal. Any kind of violence against my people will be taken as a sign of war.”

  “War is exactly the thing I’m here to prevent. If I didn’t care about your people, I would have allowed the human army to destroy the Norcs and then make their way here to you in the Inverlands. Don’t believe for a second that King Crowmere is on your side. All he cares about are the diamonds in your rivers. He couldn’t care less about the Elvish, or your claim to any kind of kingdom.”

  “King Crowmere has always been true to his word. He’s always sent supplies to us during the Passover. I’m ashamed that it was one of my own who broke the Treaty.”

  Vehel’s face heated as his father’s ice blue gaze darted in his direction.

  “Your son is extremely brave,” Dela said, lifting her voice so others could hear. “He’s saved my life on several occasions now, and saved the lives of others, too. I would never have made it to Drusga and discovered the dragon, or found the dragon egg, if it wasn’t for him. I owe him my life.”

  “So you can come here and interfere with ours,” the king sniped.

  “So you can be free. Free to live and work wherever and however you wish in Xantearos. Free to practice the magic that comes so naturally to you. Free to feed your families yourselves and not rely on others for handouts.” Dela’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you not want such a thing?”

  The king sniffed. “An exchange of goods is not a handout. It’s called trade.”

  “You won’t need to trade if you can live wherever you want. You can grow your own crops to feed your families. And what other race gave up something as important as magic?”

  He stared at her. “You really don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “We might have given up magic, but the humans gave up your dragons.”

  “What?”

  “Why else do you think the dragons left? The Dragonsayers renounced them in favor of the Treaty. Your ancestors chose to break the bond in exchange for peace, and now you’re trying to set us back one hundred and fifty years.”

  “No, that’s not true. It would be taught to us in our history lessons.”

  “Humans and the Elvish have always been the strongest of the races. The Norcs were physically strong, but didn’t have the brainpower needed to rule, and the Moerians never wanted to stay in one place long enough to create the infrastructure needed to oversee a country. The Treaty was put in place to bring peace to our lands. All you and my son have done is bring an end to that peace.”

  She shook her head, her lips pressed firmly together. “No, there will be peace under my ruling. The dragons will see to that.”

  He looked at her in scorn. “Don’t you think that was tried before?”

  Vehel spoke up. “Dela is different. Xantearos under her reign will be different.”

  “The races are too dissimilar,” his father said. “There will always be fighting. We’re not designed to live side by side.”

  “You’re wrong. Over the past few weeks, the four of us, from four different races, have spent every moment together. In the past, it was one race against the other, all trying to rule. But all four of us will have sovereignty over Xantearos—someone for each of our races. We’ll show the races we can be united, and things will be different.”

  What this meant dawned on his father’s face. “You’re saying my son will speak for me?”

  “He’ll speak for all of the Elvish.”

  “Never. I won’t allow it.”

  “I’m not asking for your permission. It will happen, whether you like it or not.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dela

  DELA WAS STARTING TO understand why Vehel had always seemed to have an issue with his father. The Elvish king didn’t look as though he was going to agree with her plans any time soon, and she hadn’t even mentioned what had happened between one of his sons and her brother yet. Though she wanted to get the Elvish on side, she also needed to learn what had happened to Ridley.

  Vehel said the catacombs ran beneath the castle. Did that mean Ridley might be somewhere below them right now? It was all she could do to stop herself throwing everything aside to find the entrance to the catacombs and going after him. But there was a chance Ridley hadn’t even ended up in the catacombs. He might have died during the return journey from the Southern Pass, or Vehel’s brother might have killed him.

  “Come,” King Dawngleam said, turning to lead them into the castle. His entourage turned with him.

  “One moment,” she replied. Leaving Vehel’s side, she went back to where Torggu was waiting. She didn’t want him to stay here with the Elvish. After the way they’d almost shot the dragon from the sky, she didn’t trust them.

  “Go,” she told him, stroking his nose. “I’ll call if I need you.”

  He huffed smoke out toward her and blinked slowly, showing her that he understood. From his back, Iros hopped and flapped, jumping from Torggu onto Dela’s shoulder and wrapping herself around Dela’s neck.

  Dela laughed and reached up to scratch the dragon’s head. “You want to come with me, huh?” She looked back to Torggu. “Is that all right?”

  The big dragon snorted again and flapped his wings, lifting up into the sky.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  She turned back to where Vehel, Orergon, and Warsgra were waiting for her. Iros’s claws dug into her shoulder as she kept her balance.

  Vehel’s father had also paused while she went back to the dragon, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of Iros. “I hope she won’t damage anything.”

  “She’ll be good,” she reassured him.

  He sniffed, but whipped back around, his long silver hair flying out with the motion, and stormed back into the castle. His entourage followed, including his two sons who had so far remained silent. Dela hadn’t missed the glares they’d been sending to Vehel, however, and her heart went out to her Elvish prince. She couldn’t imagine how hard all of this must be for him, and it would only get harder.

  “My men will see you to your rooms,” he called out to them as he walked. “Dinner will be served in the Great Hall shortly.”

  Dela glanced at the others, and together they all followed King Dawngleam into the castle.

  They were shown to their own rooms. The spaces were furnished with huge beds with thick mattresses and fourposters, covered by sheets of silks. Open fires in each of the rooms were quickly stoked by the Elvish who worked at the castle and were soon roaring in the grates.

  Warsgra laughed at the opulence. “No wonder we always thought the Elvish to be soft.”

  A bell rang through the castle.

  “Dinner time,” Vehel said, lifting his fine white eyebrows.

  Together, they made their way down to the Great Hall.

  Long tables in a U shape around the outskirts of the hall were filled with people Dela didn’t know. At the head table were the king and his two sons. She noted how Vehel had been given a seat at her side, and not with his family. That was clearly a message being sent out to Vehel, how he was no longer welcome to eat at their side.

  A woman sat on the king’s left. Her long white hair was braided and wrapped around her head, exposing her elegant neck and pointed ears. She was clearly older, and she held herself with grace and poise. Her gaze darted around the room—the same ice-blue eyes of all the Elvish—and though she didn’t speak, Dela was sure she was taking everything in. The older woman’s gaze alighted on Vehel, and Dela saw yearning in her eyes. Vehel held the woman’s gaze, something passing silently between them.

  Of course, this was Vehel’s mother.

  It was strange that she’d not embraced Vehel after him being away for so long, but clearly his fathe
r had banned her from doing so, and Vehel probably didn’t want to put her in a difficult situation by trying to embrace her himself. Even so, Dela couldn’t imagine not being able to hug her mother after so long. It must be killing them both to be so close and yet so far apart.

  Vehel’s two brothers studied her, and she studied them in return, wondering which of them was the one who’d taken her brother. She imagined she would be introduced to them after the meal was done.

  The tables were filled with silver platters filled with fish, bread, cheeses, and fruit. There were no meats, of course, and she glanced over to Warsgra, widening her eyes at him to warn him not to mention anything.

  She speared a piece of fish on her fork and held it to the baby dragon on her shoulder. The little creature exhaled a puff of fire, charring the fish black, before leaning in and snatching it from the tines, and gulping it down.

  Numerous eyes were drawn to the spectacle, not only of the baby dragon, but also of the four races seated together. The Elvish had longer living memories than the rest of the races, and she wondered if any of them were thinking back to the last time races had mixed together.

  Her thoughts went to when the Treaty had been signed. Was King Dawngleam right when he said the Dragonsayers had sent the dragons away? That they’d willingly given up their gift for the sake of peace? Why then, had her dragon come to her? He must have been alive back then. Could she allow herself to believe it was because she was different? The last thing she wanted was to throw Xantearos into chaos again, though she knew there would be a period of unrest until she was able to take the throne.

  She hoped her dragon was all right, circling the skies. Would he find a place in the nearby mountains to roost for the night? Dela hoped he trusted her with the baby. Perhaps she should have given the baby dragon back to him before she’d come into the castle, but she’d known Iros’s presence would garner Dela a certain amount of respect. If she had to go into the catacombs, however, she wouldn’t be taking either dragon down with her. She’d never risk them like that.