Dragonwatch, Book 2: Wrath of the Dragon King

by Brandon Mull

  “Then why is Celebrant still here?”

  “It’s only a matter of time, Kendra. We will be free.”

  “You’re already free, because we trusted you. The other dragons are the prisoners.”

  Raxtus drew himself up straight. “My father has asked me to stand with him and our kind.”

  “I know,” Kendra said. “He assigned you to his personal guard.”

  “I’ve never fit in, Kendra,” Raxtus said, almost pleading.

  “The timing is interesting,” Kendra said.

  “I knew you would say that,” Raxtus said, wounded. “This is a crucial time. Father is mustering all who will answer the call. But it’s also because I did well at Zzyzx. I finally proved myself.”

  “And you’re scared to risk what you gained,” Kendra said.

  “Sure, we’re friends, Kendra. But am I asking you to turn against your family? Your people? What would you say?”

  “Did my family start including me for the first time a couple of months ago?”

  Raxtus stretched his wings and shook his head. “I know it might not be real. I’m starved for acceptance but not stupid. I know Father sent me today because he thinks it will help convince you.”

  “Convince me of what?” Kendra asked.

  “I have a message at the base of my neck,” Raxtus said. Only then did Kendra notice the small cylinder attached to the slender chain. “You’ll need to unclasp the chain.”

  Kendra approached, pulled the delicate chain until she found the clasp, and unhooked it. She started trying to open the cylinder.

  “Don’t bother,” Raxtus said. “You can read it later. It’s an invitation to the Feast of Welcome.”

  “What? Where?”

  “Skyhold—my father’s castle. Not his private lair at Moonfang. This is where he interacts with other dragons. Where he rules.”

  Kendra laughed in disbelief. “I can’t go there.”

  “I agree,” Raxtus said. “And you can’t turn down the invitation. So you should leave.”

  “I can’t leave,” Kendra said. “Seth and I are the caretakers. We have to hold back the dragon uprising. And why can’t we turn down the invitation?”

  “Because no caretaker ever has,” Raxtus said. “The dragons have the right to hold a feast once each year for the leaders of Wyrmroost. It would be an enormous insult to refuse.”

  “It was a bigger insult when Celebrant tore down the Perch and attacked this keep,” Kendra said.

  “Father can be a bit extreme . . .” Raxtus muttered.

  “That seems like enough reason to revoke his privileges as caretaker,” Kendra asserted.

  “Keep dreaming,” Raxtus said. “You’re brave, Kendra. I watched you strike down the Demon King. And you stood up to my father. Your defiance did more than enrage and embarrass him. It hurt his credibility. Already he has been challenged twice for his crown.”

  “By other dragons?”

  Raxtus nodded. “For the first time in hundreds of years.”

  “What happened?”

  Raxtus snorted. “They got destroyed. Wasn’t even close. They are resting in pieces.”

  “Can any dragon take him?”

  “Probably not for hundreds of years more. He is still in his prime. The dragons that tried were a couple of the most ambitious, but not the strongest. Father has been the undisputed king of dragons for so long for a reason. You shook that up. He wants you in pieces too.”

  “Hey, Raxtus,” Seth called, running up to the Perch.

  “Hi, Seth,” the dragon replied.

  Seth leaped over the parapet and dropped to the Perch. He adjusted his caretaker’s medallion around his neck. “At least you’re one dragon that doesn’t freeze me with fear.”

  Raxtus gave a chuckle. “Most dragons can increase the fear effect with willpower. When I try, people tend to relax.”

  “Really?” Seth asked. “Do it!”

  Raxtus looked around, then spread his wings wide and gazed intently at Seth. The surfaces of his scales shimmered like sequins.

  Kendra took a deep, refreshing breath and felt tension ease from her body. She wanted to sit down. Or maybe lie down. Seth slumped a bit and started to look drowsy.

  Raxtus folded his wings and assumed a regular posture. The shimmering ceased.

  “Not bad,” Seth said. “Perfect around nap time.”

  “And another way I don’t fit in,” Raxtus said.

  “Not all dragons are the same,” Kendra reminded him. “Glommus was powerful enough to guard the Dragon Temple, and his breath put people to sleep.”

  “Glommus was huge,” Raxtus said. “He put large groups and powerful creatures to sleep so he could devour them. But I see your point. Thanks.”

  “Are you still on the wrong team?” Seth asked. “Kendra told me last time you were siding with the dragons.”

  Raxtus gave a nervous laugh. “I want you guys safe. I really do. I’m not sure the dragons can be stopped.”

  “But you’ll help us,” Seth said.

  “The best help I can give is advice,” Raxtus said. “Don’t fight this battle. Leave Wyrmroost. Lie low.”

  “You really got fooled by them,” Seth said.

  “They are my kind,” Raxtus said. “Celebrant is my father.”

  “The Dragon King just invited us to a feast,” Kendra told Seth, holding up the cylindrical container.

  “Are we the meal or the dessert?” Seth asked.

  “You will be honored guests,” Raxtus said. “Your safety is guaranteed.”

  “Guaranteed by the dragon who wants us dead?” Seth asked.

  “Guaranteed by the hospitality laws of the preserve and of all magical folk,” Raxtus said. “Including dragonkind.”

  “It has to be a trap,” Seth said. “He doesn’t want to honor us.”

  “All of Wyrmroost is a trap,” Raxtus said. “You should leave. I tell you because I care.”

  “Do you get a promotion if you scare us off?” Seth pressed.

  Raxtus shifted his forelegs uncomfortably and swished his tail. “I’m helping you as best I can.”

  “We’re trying to help your father,” Kendra said. “And the dragons. We didn’t come here to hurt them or to insult them. We are here to take care of them. Celebrant attacked us. He is supposed to be a caretaker. He is supposed to help us, not work against us.”

  “Dragons aren’t meant to laze around in cages like some shabby old declawed circus lion,” Raxtus said. “You can’t give a Dragon King a menial position and expect him to act like a human.”

  “You don’t think he can be a real caretaker?” Kendra asked. “His duty is to watch over the sanctuary and take care of the creatures here. Is he unfit?”

  “You’re twisting my words,” Raxtus said.

  “You’re backing the aggressors,” Kendra said.

  “Is the lion in the cage the aggressor?” Raxtus asked. “Or is it the prisoner?”

  “Maybe not the lion,” Kendra said. “But the convict is an aggressor. The convict goes to prison for a reason. Dragons were placed here for trying to destroy the world. They are the original aggressors. They live comfortably here. And now they want to fight.”

  “Actually, at the moment, they want you to feast,” Raxtus said. “You have your invitation. Agad has attended in the past. Go ahead and ask him. You will give great offense if you refuse to attend. My father will use it against you. Your safety is guaranteed. And if you think nothing about it is safe, you’re right. I better go.”

  “Yeah,” Seth said. “Before I throw up. You used to be our friend.”

  “I love you too,” Raxtus said. “I’m still trying to help. Leave Wyrmroost.”

  Raxtus sprang into the air, wings heaving down, making air rush over Kendra and Seth. Sparkling in the sunlight, the dragon swiftly rose into the sky.

  Suspicions

  Knox peered around the edge of the floral hedge, watching as butterflies, dragonflies, and fat bumblebees flocked around Tess.
His younger sister sat cross-legged on the lawn, her pretend fairy wings in place, plastic wand in hand, as she held court for the insects, smiling and nodding.

  He leaned back behind the hedge, disgusted with himself. Was this what he had been reduced to? Spying on his boring sister? It was like secretly watching grass grow. Who cared?

  And yet, there were a lot of insects swirling around her. As usual. That didn’t happen anywhere else. Were they attracted to her scent? Her glittery wings?

  So much about this place didn’t add up.

  His parents had dumped him and his sister with his grandparents while they went driving around New England with his aunt and uncle. For the first little while his cousins Kendra and Seth had been here, until they mysteriously “went off to camp.” Before Seth left, they had been attacked by a crazed bear that was finally fended off by a whirlwind.

  Then the weirdest thing had happened.

  Seth had appeared one day and urged him to climb inside a barrel. Knox had emerged a moment later at a castle full of people in a mountainous region. Surrounded by strange weather, Knox had retrieved a scepter from outside the castle walls. Not long after he succeeded, he had come back through the barrel to where Grandma and Grandpa Larsen lived.

  Supposedly it had all been some kind of virtual-reality simulation that somehow wired directly into his senses.

  He knew there was no such technology, but he had half believed Seth’s VR story at the time because a barrel that could teleport him to a castle seemed even less plausible. But the more he thought about it, the surer he became that there had to be another explanation.

  Before he could examine the barrel in the living room, it had been moved by Grandpa Larsen and Dale down into the basement. Later in the day he had tried to enter the basement to investigate but was stopped by a locked iron door. He felt sure Grandpa Larsen was hiding something.

  Knox peeked around the hedge again.

  A large butterfly balanced on Tess’s finger. She spoke to it animatedly. A dragonfly rested on her shoulder.

  Tess had a big imagination. She had tea parties with her stuffed animals, drew colorful pictures with crayons, and loved to pretend fairies were real. Though ten years old, she looked and acted younger.

  She normally had zero attention span, hopping from idea to idea. He had never seen her as dedicated as she was to this game of the insects being fairies. She spent hours with them. Was it the novelty of the insects gathering around her? When would that excitement wear off? And did insects ever gather like this?

  Knox came out of hiding and stalked over to his younger sister. “Playing with the fairies?” he asked.

  “They saw you behind the bush,” Tess said.

  “Is that a fairy on your finger?”

  “Her name is Nora.”

  “Tell her to fly in a circle around your head,” Knox suggested.

  “She doesn’t want to,” Tess said.

  “Because she is just a butterfly.”

  Tess giggled. “She has butterfly wings.”

  “Since she is a butterfly.”

  “They used to look like butterflies to me at first,” Tess said. “Look hard.”

  Knox folded his arms. This was absurd. But something was going on. He got down on his hands and knees and stared closely at the butterfly on her finger. The violet wings had dark markings and seemed slightly translucent. He saw thin antennae, bulbous eyes, and a curled proboscis. It was definitely a butterfly.

  “Not a fairy,” Knox said.

  “They told me the milk would help me see them,” Tess said.

  “What milk?”

  “At first I just saw and heard them a little,” Tess said. “Mostly they still looked like bugs. But I heard them sometimes. They tried to help me by telling me about the milk in the pans around the yard.”

  “You drank it?” Knox asked.

  Tess made a disgusted face. “It was outside. And it was warm. I only like milk from the fridge.”

  “You started seeing them better anyhow?” Knox guessed.

  “All the time now,” Tess said. “It got easy.”

  “But you’re just pretending,” Knox said.

  Tess giggled.

  “Right?” he asked.

  “No,” Tess said. “It’s funny because they are so obvious and you think they’re just bugs.”

  “Because they are just bugs.”

  Tess looked at the insects and giggled. “He can’t see you at all,” she said.

  Knox scowled. Something weird was going on here. What about running from a bear through the woods with goats? And going to an inexplicable castle? The bugs were all weirdly calm. They had settled on the grass all around them, as if interested in the conversation. Knox waved a hand and several took flight, but none strayed far.

  “Don’t make them mad,” Tess warned. “They have magic.”

  Knox felt a reflex to scoff, but resisted. “Where is the milk?”

  “I don’t know,” Tess said. “Around the yard.” She stared at a dragonfly hovering near her, then looked back at her brother. “The closest one is under a bush over there.” She pointed.

  “Where exactly?” Knox asked.

  Tess got up and followed the dragonfly. The other insects stayed with them, loosely orbiting Tess. The dragonfly led them to a neatly trimmed bush. Beneath it Knox found a tin saucer with milk in it.

  Some of the butterflies and dragonflies splashed in the milk.

  “The fairies like it,” Tess said.

  “I don’t want milk with bug germs in it,” Knox said.

  “Fairies, not bugs,” Tess said. “But gross, right? Warm milk under a bush? Can’t you just see the fairies? They’re everywhere. Look hard.”

  Knox looked around again, but it was ridiculous. They were just insects.

  Including a dragonfly that could lead them to milk when instructed.

  Something out of the ordinary was going on. Had been from day one. What if the milk could help unlock the answer? Was it crazy to try? Or crazy not to try?

  Knox knelt down and pulled the saucer of milk out from under the bush. The insects cleared away and the milk sloshed gently, not spilling. Knox lowered his face and sniffed. It didn’t smell rotten.

  “Are you going to taste it?” Tess asked.

  “Are you daring me?” Knox replied.

  “Sure,” Tess said.

  Knox lowered his face to the pan, felt his puckered lips brush the creamy surface, and gently slurped. The inrush of air carried a milky spray into his lungs, and he coughed a little, but he also swallowed some.

  And suddenly there were fairies everywhere.

  Small, slender, beautiful women with butterfly wings, dragonfly wings, and bumblebee wings fluttered around him. Several waved. High-pitched voices called, “He sees us! He sees us!”

  “There really are fairies,” Knox said, staring in amazement, afraid to move.

  Tinkling laughter surrounded him.

  “Aren’t they beautiful?” Tess asked.

  “They are,” Knox admitted in amazement. The colors of their wings were brighter than they had been as butterflies. Even under the afternoon sun, the fairies had a glow to them, especially if they flitted into shadows.

  “Now you can play with us,” Tess said.

  Knox looked at his sister. “This is impossible. Fairies aren’t real.”

  “Not just fairies,” Tess said. “Little people in the house. A big dirt man. Goat guys.”

  Knox remembered Seth asking what he would think if he heard there were fairies around. Or monsters. He had brushed off the questions as silly. They were silly! Except . . . for all the fairies he now saw.

  He held out a hand. “Come here. Land on me.”

  No fairies approached.

  “They don’t like to be bossed around,” Tess said.

  “Please,” Knox tried, deciding to lay it on thick. “You’re so pretty, I just want to look.”

  Three fairies all vied for a spot on his palm. A shimmering sil
ver fairy won, her hair short and stylish, the little dress she wore revealing lithe limbs. Knox could feel her tiny bare feet against his skin. He carefully reached out and stroked a wing. The fairy giggled shyly.

  She was real. He could feel her, see her, the details all perfect. Fairies were real, and he had one in his hand.

  “You like my sister?” he asked.

  “They don’t talk much,” Tess said. “I don’t know if they all speak English.”

  “I hear you talking to them,” Knox said.

  “A few speak more than others,” Tess said.

  “We all enjoy your sister,” a fairy said off to Knox’s right, hovering not far from his head. “And we all laugh at you.”

  All of the fairies tittered. The one on his palm leaped into the air. Knox tried to grasp her, but she darted away.

  “Now he knows,” a few fairies exclaimed.

  “Now you know,” Tess said.

  “Why were they laughing at me?” Knox asked.

  “Because you didn’t believe,” Tess said.

  “Well,” Knox said, “it seemed impossible. But now I get it. What else is real?”

  “I told you,” Tess said. “The goat guys. The dirt man. The little people in the house.”

  “Do you talk to them?” Knox asked.

  “Not yet,” Tess said.

  “Do the goat guys normally look like goats?” Knox wondered, thinking about his adventure in the woods with Seth.

  “How should I know?” Tess said. “They look like guys with goat legs to me.”

  “Thanks, Tess,” Knox said. “See you fairies later. I need some answers.”

  Knox dashed to the house. Grandma and Grandpa Larsen had to know what was going on here. Seth did. Even Tess sort of did.

  Knox found Grandpa Larsen in the kitchen making a sandwich. He looked up as Knox entered. “Are you all right, Knox? You look flustered.”

  Knox paused. They stood in the kitchen with no evidence of magic anywhere. What if Grandpa Larsen didn’t know? He would look so foolish. But he could prove it! He knew where to find the milk.

  “You have fairies,” Knox blurted.

  Grandpa Larsen wiped mayo on a paper towel and set down the butter knife. “I was beginning to wonder if you would figure it out. Some never do. I thought you would be full of questions after Blackwell Keep.”