by Resa Nelson
At the same time, Einarr sank to his knees in fright while swinging the dragonslayer sword like a rope.
Hsu Mao cried out when Einarr’s sword cut into his side.
With an angry yell, Pingzi rushed at Frandulane and struck blows in his direction with her stick.
Frandulane evaded her by running toward the ship that began to push away from the dock.
“Hurry!” called the young man from the ship’s deck.
Pingzi rushed forward and whipped the end of her stick at Frandulane’s feet.
The blow struck him hard. With a crippling yell, Frandulane fell on the boardwalk. His hands stretched toward the moving ship, but it drifted beyond his reach and out into the harbor.
Although Pingzi’s intent had been to quell the demon, the cries of her injured husband and the sight of Benzel’s blood rocked her to the border of rage.
Some demons are beyond quelling.
Keeping a firm grip on her walking stick, Pingzi delivered a flurry of blows at Frandulane, each striking him with full force.
Frandulane hurried away on his hands and knees toward the toppled Benzel, who groaned with pain as he clutched his bleeding wound.
Tungu hovered in dismay, still holding his short sword, its blade covered with Benzel’s blood.
When Pingzi rushed toward Frandulane, he scrambled toward Tungu and pushed his dazed cousin toward her.
Pingzi cried out in anger as Tungu stumbled toward her. She knocked the sword out of his hand with her stick. She then snapped the stick at his face and neck.
Tungu’s eyes rolled back. Unconscious, he collapsed to the ground.
Pingzi picked up his short sword, holding it in one hand and her walking stick in the other. She turned to see Einarr straining to free his dragonslayer sword from her husband’s side.
With an enraged shriek, Pingzi leapt toward Einarr and plunged Tungu’s short sword into his back. She then whipped her stick at his head, satisfied when a solid crunch rendered him unconscious.
Hsu Mao sat on the ground, clutching his wounded side.
When Pingzi looked at her husband, the sight of Hsu Mao’s clothing soaked in blood made her feel faint for a moment. Steeling herself, Pingzi stepped toward him.
“No,” Hsu Mao said. He pointed behind her. “Benzel.”
Pingzi spun to see Frandulane crawling toward Benzel. She pulled the short sword out of Einarr’s back and hurried to cut off Frandulane. In Northlander, she shouted, “Demon, stop! Obey me!”
Without looking at her, Frandulane said, “I will. Tell me what you want.”
“Be still! Stay where you are!”
But instead of obeying, Frandulane climbed to his feet and lunged toward Benzel, too weak and injured to combat him. Frandulane pulled the dragonslayer sword out of Benzel’s hands and pointed it at Pingzi. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just let me go.”
Pingzi paused to assess the situation. Hsu Mao’s wound required immediate attention, as did Benzel’s wound. The other two Northlander demons were still unconscious and possibly dead.
But this final Northlander demon held a dragonslayer sword that was never intended to be used by anyone other than a dragonslayer.
For the first time, she understood the rage Benzel of the Wolf had held toward all Scaldings when she’d first met him and convinced him to allow her to quell the demon rage that had sickened his spirit.
For the first time, Pingzi felt that demon rage inside her own spirit. She struggled between the desire to kill Frandulane and the desire to help him.
“Put that sword down,” she said. “I can’t let you go, but I can help you.”
Silence fell between them for a moment.
Frandulane charged at Pingzi with the dragonslayer sword pointed at her heart.
Pingzi crossed the short sword and the walking stick in front of her body.
When Frandulane’s sword came close, Pingzi caught its point in the place where her short sword and walking stick intersected. She wrenched the incoming blade to one side, and it slid past her.
Frandulane’s forward momentum crashed him into Pingzi.
Their weapons flew out of reach.
Frandulane pounced on Pingzi and squeezed his hands around her neck.
Frantic, Pingzi punched at his head to no avail. But just as her vision began to weaken and she expected to pass out, a glorious sight appeared behind Frandulane.
A glorious sight that Frandulane would soon experience for himself.
A dragon stood behind Frandulane with open jaws.
CHAPTER 28
When Lumara heard the commotion outside the ship, she knew the moment that she’d discussed with her dragon goddess sister Fiera had come at last.
The Northlander gods want to eradicate all mortals from this world. Their only reason is vanity. The mortals who worship us don’t deserve that. No mortals do. We can help them.
Lumara acted quickly. She took the egg containing her second child from where she kept it hidden beneath her skirt and secured it in a safe place on the ship.
We can help them by combining our blood—the blood of true dragons—with mortal blood. Our blood will give the children of a dragon and a mortal the power to save the world.
Lumara then found her son Drageen and called upon the Far Eastern crew members. She spoke first to her son in Northlander and then to the crew in Far Eastern.
Lumara dropped to her knees and held her son in her arms. “Drageen,” she whispered. “Your sister will come into this world soon. I need you to take care of her. I need you to love her.”
Drageen pushed out of his mother’s embrace and stared at her with frightened eyes. “Mama?”
Lumara held him by the shoulders. “You are my good boy. The best boy I could have ever wanted. Know that I love you. Know that sometimes we must do things—things that frighten us because they could harm us—to help others. Listen to your father and know he loves you, too.”
“Don’t go,” Drageen whispered. His eyes filled with tears.
“Go below deck,” Lumara told him. “I’ve tucked an egg in a nest of blankets. I need you to guard that egg and let nothing harm it.”
Startled, Drageen’s gaze shifted to her now-flat belly. He pressed his hand against it. “Did you hide my sister in the egg to keep her safe?”
Lumara smiled. “Yes. And now I need you to keep her safe.” She kissed his cheek. “You are a wonderful son. You will be a wonderful brother. Now go.”
Drageen wrapped his arms around her shoulders and cried. But then he ran away and disappeared below deck.
Awash with relief, Lumara stood and addressed the crew. “Protect my son. Let no one near him. If anyone who doesn’t belong on this ship boards it, kill them.”
The crew members looked at each other in bewilderment.
Cries from the boardwalk below caught Lumara’s attention. “Do as I command!” she shouted at the crew.
Lumara shifted her shape from mortal to dragon. Her skin changed to scales, and her lizard body grew, ripping her clothing to shreds. She leapt over the ship’s rail, landing on the boardwalk. She saw Hsu Mao and Benzel of the Wolf too wounded to fight. When she saw Frandulane strangling Pingzi Po, Lumara stepped toward him with open jaws.
Frandulane turned and then vaulted to one side.
Lumara still reached for him with her open mouth, lined with rows of needle-like teeth.
He picked up a fallen dragonslayer sword, flipped onto his back, and aimed it at Lumara’s mouth.
The sword impaled her as she reached in an attempt to swallow him.
Lumara felt her throat rip open, surprised at how pleasant the fresh sea air rushing inside her body felt. Her dragon body plummeted to the boardwalk.
Her mind filled with mortal memories. The day she’d met Skallagrim. Their travels together in this mortal realm. The birth of their son and the impending birth of their daughter.
What surprised Lumara the most before she choked to death on her own blood was realizing how
easy it had been to fall in love with her husband, because that had never been part of her mission to help mortals.
* * *
Skallagrim and Bruni arranged to borrow horses from the stables that served dragonslayers. Each mounted a horse and walked them through the streets of Gott toward the outskirts where they’d begin their search for the man who murdered dragonslayers.
While still close to the stables, Skallagrim squinted at a man running toward them. Skallagrim called out to Bruni, “Wait.”
They reined their horses to stop.
Bruni pointed at the approaching man. “He has a dragonslayer sword!” She remained mounted but withdrew her own sword and pointed it at him.
Skallagrim jumped down from his horse and then pulled out his sword. “Stop!” he shouted at the man. Skallagrim squinted, shocked by what he saw. “Frandulane?”
Frandulane pulled up short. He panted, out of breath from running. He raised a welcoming hand. “Hello, brother.”
Skallagrim let his sword fall to his side. “What are you doing here?”
Frandulane smiled but stood his ground as if unwilling to step closer. “Mother sent me. You know how she likes her purple carrots. Her own crop failed, so she sent me here to see if the merchants had any left.”
Skallagrim thought he heard someone scream in the distance, and the sound of it unnerved him. “This late in the season? I take it you didn’t find any.”
Frandulane shrugged. “I tried. I’m on my way back to Tower Island. I’d stay and visit, but you know how Mother worries.”
Bruni spoke up. “Why do you have a dragonslayer sword?”
Frandulane looked at it as if surprised to find it in his hands. “Is that what this is? I bought it from a merchant.”
Skallagrim walked toward his brother. “May I see it?”
Bruni urged her horse to walk behind Skallagrim, backing him up.
Frandulane shuffled his feet. “Why?”
Skallagrim squinted again as he drew closer, looking for any marks on the blade that might distinguish it. “We know every dragonslayer and every dragonslayer sword. I’d like to see who that one once belonged to.”
Bruni’s horse gave a troubled neigh.
Frandulane smiled and walked to meet Skallagrim. “Fine.”
Skallagrim considered putting his own sword back in its sheath but his hands wouldn’t let him, as if they had a mind of their own.
Frandulane continued smiling and held his sword hand in front of his face, letting the sword dangle toward his feet. But once within arm’s reach of his brother, Frandulane gripped the sword with both hands and swung it at him.
Startled, Skallagrim brought his sword up one-handed, barely deflecting Frandulane’s blow. He hurried to place both hands on the grip.
Bruni’s horse reared, startled by the attack. Bruni grasped the reins with one hand in an effort to control the animal while holding onto her sword with the other.
Frandulane threw his body at Skallagrim, ducking to ram his shoulders against his brother’s chest.
The unexpected blow knocked the wind out of Skallagrim’s lungs. He stumbled and struggled to breathe.
Frandulane rushed past him and jumped onto the horse Skallagrim had borrowed. He dug his heels into the horse’s sides and raced away.
Bruni’s horse turned in circles, too frightened to be calmed.
A scream from the direction of the boardwalk caught their attention.
“Lumara!” Skallagrim shouted. “Drageen!” Letting Frandulane ride away unchallenged, Skallagrim ran full tilt toward the boardwalk.
CHAPTER 29
When Skallagrim reached the boardwalk, he stood still, confused about the sight unfolding before him.
Minutes later, Bruni ran to catch up with him. She paused by his side. “Benzel!” she cried, rushing forward past Skallagrim and toward the crumpled figure of the elderly dragonslayer who had been their teacher so many years ago.
Skallagrim stared at the scene until he realized one of the dead bodies he saw belonged to a dragon. He shook his head in disbelief and ran toward it. “Lumara?” he called.
Instead of hearing his wife answer, Skallagrim saw drops of fire fall from the sky and land on the boardwalk in front of him like rain.
The fire drops piled up and took the shape of a woman with pale white skin and black hair that swirled like wisps of smoke. The fire spread into a swirling gown sparkling with orange, red, and yellow gems. “Lumara was my sister,” she said. “I’ve come to take her spirit back to my realm.”
“No,” Skallagrim said, trying to make sense of all that happened around him. “If you have the power to take her to another realm, you can bring her back to life.”
When the woman who had taken form from the rain of fire walked toward the figure of the motionless dragon, Pingzi Po looked and cried out, “Fiera! Dragon Goddess, please!” She cradled the body of her husband, Hsu Mao. “He died helping us fight these demons. Can you give him life?”
Fiera kept walking until she reached the dragon. She placed her hand on its skin, and the dragon’s body turned into a pile of ash.
“No!” Skallagrim cried. He sank to his knees in front of the ashes and looked at them in horror.
But the ash lifted into the air and took Lumara’s form. Flakes of burning ember shone in place of her eyes.
Skallagrim stood to face the woman made of ashes, struck speechless by the sight.
An ashy hand touched his face, leaving a smudge behind that made him look as if he’d spent the day with a blacksmith.
“Lumara still lives,” Fiera said, “but she no longer exists in this world.” Her voice darkened when she turned to face Skallagrim. “Make sure her sacrifice was not in vain.”
Fiera dissolved into droplets of fire that shot up toward the sky, followed by the ashy form of Lumara.
Skallagrim stood still for several minutes, looking up at the sky and choking back his tears.
Finally, a hiccupping cry brought his attention back to earth.
Drageen stood where Lumara’s dragon body had collapsed into a pile of ashes before rising into the sky. The boy used both arms to hold a newborn baby. “I did what Mama said,” Drageen said in a solemn voice. “I guarded her. I kept her safe. I protected her from the bad people.”
They are what’s left of Lumara. What she left behind.
Skallagrim reached down and took his daughter from his son’s arms. He knew she’d hatched from an egg, just like Drageen. Skallagrim knew she had powers that he had yet to fully understand.
But in this moment, all he could think about was how much she looked like her mother.
“Well done,” he said to Drageen. “Your mother would be proud of you. I’m proud of you.”
Drageen looked around the boardwalk. “Why did she go? Doesn’t she love us anymore?”
“She does.” Skallagrim cradled his daughter, who stared at him with bright blue eyes. “But she came into our lives knowing she could only stay for so long. Your mother did what she came here to do. When she succeeded, it was time for her to leave.”
Drageen clung to his father and wept.
The resolve to be nothing more than a good father faded away, replaced by a longing that Skallagrim first had in childhood. A longing that he’d promised to forget struck him with the full force of a sword. It then shifted and changed into something else.
Something new.
And now it’s time for me to do what I need to do.
Skallagrim noticed that among the dead bodies were his cousins Einarr and Tungu. His heart hardened.
Good. They deserve to be dead.
He cradled his newborn daughter in one arm and rested his free hand on his son’s shoulder, determined to give what comfort he could before leaving to hunt down and kill his brother Frandulane.
For as long as he could remember, Skallagrim had been told he had a dragonslayer’s heart.
No one ever told him that he would lose his dragonslayer heart to a dragon when
he fell in love with her.
No one told him that his dragonslayer heart would break when he found his dragon wife murdered, leaving their children motherless.
No one told him that would leave him feeling as if he had no heart at all.
For the first time in his life, Skallagrim fully believed he had no Scalding blood in his veins and embraced his unknown bloodline. For the first time, he had no desire to be related to the Scaldings, much less be the best Scalding to ever live.
What he wanted was to kill them.
The Dragonslayer’s Curse
by Resa Nelson
The Dragonslayer’s Curse
Copyright © 2019 by Resa Nelson
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Cover Art © 2018 by Eric Wilder
First Edition January 2019
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the invention of the author, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, event, or locale is entirely coincidental.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Many thanks to my fellow authors, Carla Johnson and Tom Sweeney, who read this novel before publication and gave me excellent feedback.
CHAPTER 1
“Where is he?” Skallagrim shouted when he stormed into his childhood home on Tower Island with his dragonslayer sword in hand. “Where’s Frandulane?”
He paused at the shocked expression on his mother’s face when she looked up from where she knelt, tending the mid-day meal bubbling in the pot on the hearth fire.
“Skallagrim,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
As the only dragonslayer to ever hail from Tower Island, Skallagrim rarely returned to his childhood home. His duty to the Northlands kept him roaming that country from late spring through fall, and he spent the rest of his year traveling the winter route through the Midlands and Southlands. Every other dragonslayer had already left the Northlands to begin the winter route. Under normal circumstances, Skallagrim would have no reason to be here.
