Dragon Assassin 4: Bitterwaters

by Arthur Slade

  Kon, with no warning, opened his mouth wide and roared a horrible and powerful roar of anger and pain, and he let out a blast of flame.

  Not at us. But across the ceiling, brightening the room. The heat rushed over me and the sight of his flames was nearly blinding. I heard footsteps and out of the corner of my vision saw Dyn fleeing down the hall. I didn’t dare call to him or even look away from the creature that could produce such flame. Dyn was not a trained fighter, so I couldn't expect him to stand his ground.

  Or maybe he was the smartest of the three of us.

  Kon stopped roaring and shooting flame, closed his eyes, took a deep calming breath and looked directly at Brax.

  "Was that necessary?" Brax asked.

  “Yes,” the dragon said. “And it is good to see you again, eldest of my family. Blood of my blood. My bookish, hotheaded brother has returned to us. I didn’t believe the raven. I thought he was going mad.” He narrowed his eyes. “You are missing an eye, brother, and you have a human with you who does not walk behind as a slave should. And, judging by the short conversation I overheard, she speaks to you as an equal.”

  “Yes, she does. And yes, I am missing an eye.” I thought he’d take one more chance to complain about my involvement with the removal, but instead he said, “I stand in this hallway. You know where it leads. I have a mortal with daggers at my side. I am assuming you've guessed my purpose by now.”

  Kon stared at me for a moment; he was weighing me and perhaps had a new respect. “I have guessed your purpose,” he said. “Though I didn’t read all the tomes you did, brother. But I listened. You told me enough of what you'd read, that I guessed why you were here. Otherwise, I would not be standing at this place.”

  “Will you stop me?” Brax spoke evenly, but his voice broke at the end.

  A long silence passed. “Will you succeed?” his brother asked.

  “One cannot know until the deed is done.”

  “Then why should I let you go? Why should I not fly to Father and inform him of your return? I would finally get his admiration and take it away from his favorite son—your father who still misses you and mourns the loss of both his daughter and son—the son who slew his daughter. Why should I not tell him you are here, and watch as they will tear you asunder? Then I will take my rightful place in his heart as the first of his blood. The first of our family. Why shouldn’t I do that?”

  Brax shrugged, making his wings lift a little. “I would not stop you, brother."

  "You have come at the most inopportune time. Your actions broke bonds, not just with your own family but with other clans. And Father allowing you to be banished rather than executed made him appear weak before the other clans. There have been challenges. Many challenges."

  "By whom?"

  "The Bordian clan attempted a challenge and failed."

  "Father had to fight for his crown?" Brax whispered this.

  "Yes, for the first time in fifty years. And it was a close battle he won only by guile. He is not as strong as he once was. No one has openly confronted him since, but someone poisoned his master of arms."

  "Orthak is dead?"

  "Yes." Kon gave me a piercing, disdainful look and explained, "To poison another dragon is a horrible, heinous and unforgiveable transgression. Only the weak use poisons."

  Did he know my occupation? I gulped. Perhaps he recognized my cloak.

  Kon turned his gaze back to his brother. "There are whisper campaigns about Father—many clans covet the throne. And they smell weakness. So it is a horribly inopportune time to have the symbol of my father's weakness return. So why shouldn't I have the guards bring your head back to Father?"

  "You must do what you believe is best," Brax spoke calmly. "I assume the raven has gone on to tell Father and he will soon be here with the guard, anyway.”

  Kon shook his head. “I killed the raven. I couldn’t believe it spoke the truth—but I did not want it to carry that truth forward. I wanted to see you for myself.”

  “Then you are the only one who knows I’m here?” Brax asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I ask again, Kon, my brother—will you stand in my way?”

  His nostrils flared as he sucked in air and for a moment, I thought his eyes looked slightly more watery in the dim light. “I loved her, too, you know. I did.”

  “I know that,” Brax said. “It’s why I’ve chosen this path. To set all of that right.”

  “I ask again, will you succeed?”

  I waited, trying to glean what it was Brax was taking about and who it was we would kill. If it wasn’t his father, there was a piece of this puzzle I was missing.

  “I can’t promise success,” Brax said. “But failure means you will win either way. Your troublesome older brother will be out of the way.”

  “Then I won’t block your path,” Kon said. He moved aside, revealing a door behind him. Then he strode away, down a hallway, and didn’t look back once.

  “What—” I began.

  “No questions from you.” Brax held up a talon, not in a threatening way, but to accentuate his point.

  “I have one question. What about Dyn?”

  “You can find him later," he said. "We have to accomplish this now.”

  “We can find him, you mean.”

  “Yes, that is what I meant." Brax gave an irritated flap of his wings. "My brother might still change his mind, so we had better move forward quickly.”

  And with that, he opened the door and went through. I took one last look behind me but there was no sign or sound of Dyn. Perhaps he was still running.

  I followed Brax.

  18

  The Domed Room

  The passage was cold to the point that my breath cast out plumes of frost. Brax had quickened his pace and we left footprints in the frost that carpeted the floor.

  Further downward we went, until the tunnel opened into a chamber. And I drew in my breath. For before us was a huge domed room that had been carved under the mountain, deep under the city of Dreki. It was so vast I couldn’t see to the other side. The dragons using their talons and flaming breath to carve this room must have taken hundreds of years. A large glowing bulb was in the center of the room at least a hundred yards from where I stood. And in between us and that light were dragons.

  Hundreds and hundreds of dragons.

  I took a moment to recognize that they were statues. And all were facing toward that central light. There were dragons of many shapes and sizes. Many of them were the kinds illustrated in books, but our knowledge was woefully inadequate. For I saw types I'd never dreamed of, some as massive as a house, others smaller than a mortal.

  “This is the Hall of Ancestors,” Brax said. “It is the holiest of dragon sites. The source of our history. The place where each king or queen has been set in stone. For thousands of years.”

  “You mean they make statues to honor them?”

  “No.” Brax waved an arm toward the surrounding multitudes. “These are not statues. These are the wisest of the wise and the greatest leaders who are turned to stone to preserve our memories. To preserve who they were.”

  “Preserve them? How is that possible?”

  “It is them inside that stone. We have lost the art of many of the old magics—especially the art of waking them. But what we have not lost was the process needed to turn each to stone. So our ancestors can wait here.”

  “Wait for what?” The frost on the floor was thicker and it coated the stone figures.

  “The end times,” Brax said. “That is the story, anyway. But it is said that if we can unravel the secrets of the old magic, we can converse with the dead.”

  “You mean the dragons are still… they are inside that stone? That they just sit there?”

  “I don’t know. I have never seen the process, for only the king and the high priest are there as witnesses. But I read everything, and I must admit that not all of it makes sense. Many times I snuck down here and tried to speak with them. Not on
e made a sound.” He turned left to stop at a statue of a female dragon—a queen, if her crown meant anything. I noted that she was wearing a gold necklace with a round black stone attached to it. Then saw that each dragon had that same stone.

  Brax shook his head and kept going. We stopped at another female dragon, and he let out a quiet curse and carried on.

  “Who are you looking for?” I asked.

  “Be silent,” Brax whispered. “I am concentrating.” He stopped near a male dragon who was standing upright on his hind legs and carried himself like a human, though each finger ended in a powerful talon. Those talons clutched a staff made of stone.

  But he looked almost human, if you ignored the snout face. I couldn’t help but think of my own sudden powers. How the scales appeared on my skin.

  “Is that what will become of me?”

  “I told you to be quiet,” he gruffed. Then he turned back and perhaps saw the distress on my face, and his features softened. “I don’t believe so, Carmen. He was born that way. There are still a few of the Axion dragons left. They were the great dragon mages I spoke of earlier—though these days they go a little mad from the knowledge.”

  “There are so many types of dragons." I pointed around me. "I had no idea that there was such variety."

  “Yes, it makes your tiny brain vibrate, doesn’t it? But that dragon there, he was the father to Erok the Sacrificer. I mentioned Erok earlier.”

  “You said something about how he brought his daughter back to life to rule in his stead?”

  “Yes! Yes!" Brax sounded like a maestru proud of a student's answer. "You were listening for once. There is no statue of Erok because he sacrificed himself. And in doing so gave up his place in the Hall of Ancestors. We must keep moving. If he is here then we are close. Very close.”

  Close to what? I wanted to ask. Brax was already charging ahead, passing by the statues and looking. Cursing when one he thought was the dragon he searched for turned out not to be. It became clear he was only looking at Scythian dragons. Then a dragon or two later, I realized they were only the females.

  Then he sighed and fell to his knees in front of a female Scythian. “She’s here,” he said. “She’s here. Right beside Mom.”

  I came around the back of the dragon, ducking under the spread wings. It was another female and her features were familiar, even though she was all stone.

  “This is your sister,” I said.

  Brax said nothing. He was staring with his one eye as though he could somehow memorize her. Then he reached out and softly placed his talons on her face. “Yes, this is Brenna, my sister.”

  She looked so alive that I expected her to flap her wings and say, Hello, brother.

  Just like every other dragon statue, there was a gold necklace around her neck that clasped a black stone. Brax reached for the necklace, unclasped it and let the dark round stone sit in his palm.

  There was no sign of the wound he'd given her. And she looked calm, friendly and yet intimidating. "My father surrendered his place in the hall for my sister. So she could be next to Mom for the rest of eternity."

  I stole a glance at the dragon next to her, another Scythian, and immediately knew this one to be his mother. He had her eyes. He had quoted from her several times, but not once mentioned that she was dead. She looked to be glaring toward me. An impressive and powerful female dragon. She had the bearing of a queen.

  To my surprise Brax turned away from both of them. He wiped at his good eye and I had the mad thought he was clearing away a tear. “It’s time to fulfill your oath,” he said. “It is time. Come along, Carmen Dore.”

  He turned his back on his mother and sister and walked toward the center of the room.

  He so rarely used my full name. A chill went down my spine.

  19

  That Which Was Sworn

  I had stopped noticing the statues, though we went past many more. Too many to count. Each step drew us closer and closer to the central pillar which seemed to be composed of light. “Hurry, Carmen,” he whispered. “While my resolve lasts. Hurry.”

  But I did not understand what we were hurrying toward so I put my hands on my daggers, looking left and right and listening for sounds of attack. Other than his talons scraping on the stone floor, I heard nothing. “But you said we were safe and your brother wouldn’t tell the king. We have time, right?”

  “No. We don't have time. The deed must be done while I am angry. Now, while I regret. Now to balance the past with the present.”

  He was going mad. Seeing his brother, then the statues of his sister and mother, had unhinged him. I kept up my pace, but my legs tired. We charged past the last row of statues. How many dragons were memorialized in this hall? Did they truly wait for the end of times? And somewhere, I assumed, far above us sat the king and thousands of living dragons.

  The one column rose from the middle of the room to the vaulted ceilings. They had carved it from a magical stone that was as white and glowing as the moon. Surrounding that column were three molded beds in the shape of a dragon’s body with its wings spread out. Was this where they turned the dragons to stone?

  “Now, we must do it now,” Brax said. He was talking more to himself than to me. Then he spoke in that language I’d heard him use earlier—some ancient dragon language. And writing began to circle the column, appearing line-by-line as he spoke until the column itself was imprinted with the words as far as I could see.

  “What is happening?” I asked. But Brax kept speaking in that tongue as though in a trance. Then fell silent, let out a breath, and placed the stone from his sister's necklace into a niche.

  He next lay in the molded space, his back against it so his wings were spread out and his belly and chest exposed. The bed was made for a dragon larger than him.

  “Is you word your bond?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “But what is happening? What is this?”

  “And is your oath unbreakable?”

  “Yes! Yes, I am an assassin of the Red Fortress, and my word is unbreakable.”

  “Then I hold you to your promise.” There was a determination in Brax’s eyes, but he no longer had any emotion in them. Only purpose. And it made me shiver as he stared at me. “I will say this only once. That stone body was my sister. That is my sister. And this is the corpolium that Erok the Sacrificer created. They have not used it for a thousand years. Not since he brought his daughter back. The way of bringing back was lost. Until I found it. I read it. I understood it. I can summon any of these dragons back into the land of the living. Do you understand?”

  “Uh—yes, you can bring them back, I get that.” Though I thought he was mad. I shivered even more as the room grew colder.

  “This solemn ritual will bring my sister back to the land of the living. It will correct the wrong that was done. It will set things right. I know this to be true. When we are finished, you will find my brother and he will transport you back to Ellos. I trust him to do that.”

  “But what will happen to you?”

  “No questions, Carmen. Only answers. Do you understand?"

  “I—I think so,” I said.

  “Well, in order to bring my sister back, a willing sacrifice has to be made. A dragon sacrifice.”

  “Maybe I don’t understand.”

  “Carmen Dore of the Red Assassins, I want you to take your blade and plunge it into my heart. This is the price you will pay for my eye. The promise you must fulfill. Do it now.”

  “What?" I put up my hands. "No, that’s not what I promised.”

  “You swore an oath to slay someone of my choosing. I am that choice. Do this. Everything will be right again in the world. My sister will breathe again.”

  “No, I can’t!” My voice echoed.

  “You have no choice—it’s your oath.”

  “But isn’t there another way?"

  “No. There are immutable rules to ancient magic. One must die and be slain by the hand of one who loves."

  "Slain b
y the hand of one who loves? But that's not true. I don't... I don't... love you."

  "You do, Carmen Crow."

  "Don’t call me that. Use my full name."

  "You do, Carmen Dore. You stood in front of me to save me from Darius. You could have cowered. You almost threw yourself from my back to prevent me from drowning in the Bitterwaters. You are the one for this task. The only one who can release me from my pain. Why do you think my eye worked so well in you? Why it changed you. The magic needed something more than just your blood and bone—your emotions strengthened it."

  "But that means you. You..."

  "Love you? Yes." He whispered this. "Respect grew to protective feelings to love. But I love my sister more. The dragon mages who designed this ritual were very particular. They didn’t want anyone to use this ritual frivolously. So it must be someone who loves that person who performs the sacrifice. Erok was sacrificed by his wife, who later slew herself. I will do so for my sister. I should no longer live and breathe unless she is.”

  “But… Would she want you to do this?”

  “She has no way to make a choice. But I do.” He looked at me. “Now, Carmen. No more delaying. Fulfill your oath at this moment. Draw your blade and give my sister life.”

  I drew my dagger. My hand was shaking. It was an oath. A promise. I had sworn.

  “Now, Carmen. I demand you fulfill your oath now.”

  I lifted my blade into the air.

  “Now. Do not be an oath-breaker. Now!” he shouted.

  And, without thought, only knowing it was my oath and that I was my oath, I brought the blade down.

  A Note From The Author

  Dear Reader,

  A cliffhanger ending? I know. I know. This is the place where this episode naturally ended. And I must admit that I enjoy cliffhangers. I’m crazy that way. I like the anticipation and the buildup.