Dragonwatch, Book 2: Wrath of the Dragon King

by Brandon Mull

  “Where do I go?” Seth asked.

  “Try the cave in that hillside,” she said. “They might pass it by. Or it might run narrow and deep. Maybe you can escape.”

  He saw the dark cavity in the steep, rocky slope. It might go back only a few feet. At least it would provide some cover, and the opening was much too small for a dragon to enter.

  “Do it,” Calvin advised from his pocket. “Splitting up is smart.”

  Seth broke off from Eve toward the hillside, upping his pace to a full sprint. Amazed at the length and speed of his strides, Seth doubted he had ever run half this fast.

  Behind him, dragons roared. As he slipped into the little cave, his last glance back showed the dragon with the tentacled face rising into the sky. Seth rushed deeper into the cave. It was more than an indentation, but it narrowed to a dead end after about twenty feet. At least the space looked empty.

  Seth kept still, holding his breath.

  “Come out,” a slithery voice called, like many voices speaking at once, all of them with too much saliva in their mouths. “I saw you enter, caretaker. Surrender.”

  Holding his breath, Seth pressed back against the rear of the cave. Hopefully Eve was escaping while this dragon was distracted. Of course, there had been two.

  What were his assets? The sword in his hand could shoot a bolt of lightning. He also had the vial of horrors. Was now an effective time to try the vial, cornered in a cave? Against a single dragon? Who would be more scared? Would the courage potion help protect him?

  A head snaked into the cave, mostly filling the tunnel, and a mass of squirmy tentacles writhed toward him. Seth felt fear but was not overpowered. He slashed his sword through the grasping tentacles, severing at least four, the blade passing through them cleanly. Ichor fountained and the head withdrew.

  “Good one,” Calvin encouraged.

  “For Kendra,” Seth muttered.

  “You’ll pay for that,” the dragon threatened. “Out you come or I roast you.”

  “Too scared to fight me face-to-face?” Seth cried.

  “You dare insult my courage?”

  “I always heard Wormface was the most cowardly dragon,” Seth yelled. “Fights human children from a distance.”

  “Orders or not, you die now,” the dragon declared. The head wriggled back into the cave, and Seth held his sword ready. Suddenly the head flopped to the floor and stopped advancing, tangled tentacles squishy and limp, the severed ones still oozing juices.

  Seth stared, wondering if it might be a ruse. The dragon seemed weirdly still for how angry it had sounded.

  “Hurry, boy, come quick,” a deep voice boomed.

  “Who’s there?” Seth asked.

  “Your Dragon Slayer,” the voice replied.

  Now Seth recognized the voice! It was the Somber Knight! Stepping on mushy tentacles, Seth scrambled around the dragon’s head and past the somewhat narrower neck until he exited the cave. The huge knight had to be at least ten feet tall, and he stood beside the spot where the scaly neck had been cleaved in two. The gigantic body of the dragon lay lifeless. The knight clutched a sword with a blade longer than Seth from head to foot.

  “Eve,” Seth said, anxiously looking for her.

  “We must aid her,” the Somber Knight said. “And your sister.”

  “A dragon ate Kendra,” Seth said, mildly surprised he could spit out the dreadful words.

  “No,” the Somber Knight said. “Your sister lives.”

  Captive

  In the moist, humid enclosure, Kendra sat on a damp, muscular tongue surrounded by meaty walls. She could only faintly see the cruel fangs and the mucosal surfaces, which meant there was no light. Mysterious fumes and gurgles issued from the clenching tunnel at the rear of her prison. The environment gently rocked, bobbed, and swayed, evidence that they were flying, but also that her captor was trying to keep her level.

  Covering her nose, Kendra attempted to ignore when the tongue rippled beneath her. She tried not to get saliva on her bare skin, because it burned and tingled. What was going to happen to her? If the dragon meant to swallow her, why not get on with it?

  Her captor was obviously taking her somewhere. What if it intended to feed her to baby dragons? The image came too vividly to her mind. Or maybe she would be dropped from a great height? Or tortured?

  She still had all of her gear. The sack of gales was an option. But did she want a windstorm inside of a dragon mouth? Not when flying through the air. Anything that might make the dragon spit her out would not end well for her.

  And so she sat as still as possible in the uncomfortably warm, rank air, trying very hard not to overanalyze what might come next. She paid attention to acceleration tugging on her as they turned or sped up or descended.

  Suddenly Kenda felt like she was inside a plunging elevator, followed by a rush of forward movement. And then she came to a halt. A moment later, her enclosure tipped forward and opened, dumping her onto a rocky floor.

  Her hair had spilled over her face, temporarily screening her view. Knees and elbows smarting from the tumble, Kendra pushed her hair back and stared up at Celebrant, he on his dais in his cavernous hall, she on the floor like a mess coughed up by a giant cat.

  “That did not take long,” the Dragon King said contentedly. “Hardly an hour past midday.”

  Having seen only the inside of the mouth of her captor, Kendra looked back at the dragon behind her. Emerald-green scales covered a creature nearly as immense as Celebrant.

  “She offered no trouble,” said a voice that sounded like dozens of women speaking together. A pair of fins just behind her head fanned out and then retracted.

  “Excellent, Jaleesa,” Celebrant said. “And her brother?”

  “Numrum and Chiro were right behind me,” Jaleesa said.

  “And the manservant who desecrated the corpse of Madrigus?” Celebrant asked.

  “He was with the boy,” Jaleesa said. “They had no chance for escape.”

  “Were Numrum and Chiro following you here?” Celebrant asked.

  “Not that I could see,” Jaleesa said.

  “Berzog, Luria, go investigate,” Celebrant ordered.

  A dragon covered in quills and an amber dragon took flight, exiting the vast room.

  “Jaleesa, congratulations on delivering the girl unharmed,” Celebrant said. “You are dismissed.”

  The green dragon moved away. Kendra got to her feet, her clothes gooey with dragon spit.

  “Don’t hurt Tanu,” Kendra said.

  “Your manservant is already dead,” Celebrant said. “I want your brother alive for now.”

  “You won’t get away with this,” Kendra said.

  “I will accomplish so much more than this, you ridiculous girl,” Celebrant said. “I’m just barely getting started. You can make things easier on yourself and your brother—and on all of your allies at Blackwell Keep.”

  “How?” Kendra asked.

  “Unconditional surrender,” Celebrant said. “Relinquish the caretaker’s medallion. Name me sole caretaker of Wyrmroost. In return, I vow to see you safely delivered to the borders of the sanctuary to depart with any of your allies who care to join you.”

  Kendra clutched the medallion. “You are no caretaker. You care only about yourself, and maybe the dragons. This sanctuary is meant for all who live here. And it is meant to protect the world from you. I won’t give it up.”

  “I can slay you at my leisure,” Celebrant said casually.

  “I guess you can,” Kendra said.

  “Foolish girl,” Celebrant said. “Do not tempt me.”

  “Was this the plan Ronodin gave you?” Kendra asked.

  Celebrant narrowed his eyes. “What did he tell you?”

  “He told you how to win the war,” Kendra said.

  “The dark unicorn did bring some information that will aid our cause,” Celebrant said. “I lay my own traps. Catching you took less effort than a yawn.”

  “What did he tell
you?” Kendra wondered.

  “You will know soon enough,” Celebrant said. “If you live to see it. I will give you some time to think. Perhaps once I have your brother, you will be more persuadable.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Kendra said, secretly worried she might do anything to save Seth’s life.

  “She’s alive?” Seth asked. “You’re sure?”

  The Somber Knight gave a nod. “First, we have another dragon to punish.” He waved an arm, and a huge bull came plodding up to him. The animal was made of tar, with horns carved out of stone, and the tall knight had to reach up to pat the neck. Pulling with one arm, the Somber Knight leaped astride the bull—a feat that should have been impossible in his heavy armor. The bull turned and charged in the direction of the black dragon with spikes down the neck.

  “Chiro!” the Somber Knight called, his voice booming. “Come face your doom!”

  The black dragon had been moving away from Seth and the knight, presumably still hunting Eve. But now the dragon turned, eyes flashing. Chiro sprang into the air and glided low toward the Somber Knight.

  “Butcher!” Chiro called out, her voice a soprano choir. “Today your atrocities end.”

  Seth considered ducking back into the cave in case the dragon sprayed fire or worse. The Somber Knight stood up on the back of the bull, still racing straight for the dragon, and started twirling a chain with a grapnel at the end. As the dragon’s mouth opened, the Somber Knight hurled the grappling hook, which caught hold of Chiro’s lower jaw.

  The dragon tried to swerve away, but the Somber Knight leapt from the back of the bull, chain tautening in one hand, sword gripped in the other, and began a wide swing. His weight jerked Chiro’s head down, and the Somber Knight curved swiftly into the air. Crashing into the dragon’s side, he plunged the sword up to the hilt.

  With a shriek, Chiro lost altitude and plowed into the ground, tumbling and tearing up huge chunks of earth. Sword in hand after it ripped free from the dragon in the landing, the Somber Knight rolled to his feet and began hacking at a wing as he dashed along the body. Wheeling around, the bull of tar lowered its horns and rammed the far side of the dragon.

  As the Somber Knight sprinted toward the base of the neck, Chiro arched her head around and exhaled bubbling dark-blue liquid all over him. The fluid sizzled on the ground, acrid fumes rising, and though the knight was drenched, he charged forward and slashed the base of the neck.

  Chiro tried to bite the Somber Knight, but he bashed her head aside with his shield and plunged his sword into her eye. Tail flailing, wings spasming, the dragon withdrew her head, and the Somber Knight opened the base of the neck wider with a mighty swipe of his sword. Dark-blue fluid fizzed from the wound as Chiro slumped to the ground, twitching but no longer trying to rise. The Somber Knight stomped over and chopped off the head.

  “You got her,” Seth said, drawing closer.

  “Stay back, lad,” the Somber Knight said. “Her corrosive bile could eat right through your boots.” He removed the grapnel from the dragon’s mouth and started winding the chain.

  “It didn’t ruin your armor,” Seth said.

  “Not much can harm this armor,” the Somber Knight said, coming to Seth.

  “That was amazing,” Seth said. “You killed two dragons.”

  “It’s my job,” the Somber Knight said. “You made the first one easy. Dreadwolves sometimes shelter in that cave. Lucky for you it was empty today. The second dragon took some effort.”

  “You cut off her head,” Seth said.

  “Best way to be sure,” the Somber Knight said. “Dragons can be resilient.”

  The Somber Knight whistled, and his bull came plodding over.

  “Is it made of tar?” Seth asked.

  “Mostly,” the Somber Knight said. “I have ridden to battle on Umbro many times. He’s a dullion, kind of like a golem. He’s fast and tireless.”

  “I got attacked by a dullion once,” Seth said. “It was shaped like a big person.”

  “They come in many forms,” the Somber Knight said. “No real life in them. No personality. Umbro just follows orders. Which makes him much more useful than many people I have met.”

  “How did you find me?” Seth asked.

  “I had a tip from Lord Dalgorel,” the Somber Knight said. “I sensed when the dragons declared war. I’m in tune with the treaties and boundaries of Wyrmroost. As I was preparing to depart, Dalgorel came and told me where you, Kendra, Eve, and your manservant were heading.”

  “We need to find Eve,” Seth said.

  “Right here,” she said, seeming to appear at his side out of some wisps of steam.

  “You were still hiding,” Seth said.

  “Can’t be too careful,” Eve said. “Nice work, Ryland.”

  “Few have bothered to learn my name,” the Somber Knight said.

  “I like the old stories,” Eve said.

  “What about Tanu?” Seth asked.

  “I noticed your manservant over yonder,” Ryland said.

  Seth peered in the direction the Somber Knight had indicated and noticed a cloud of gas shaped exactly like Tanu. “He took a gaseous potion,” Seth said.

  “Where to now?” Eve asked.

  “More dragons will be on their way,” Ryland said. “Not all are as foolhardy and incompetent as Chiro, or as careless as Numrum. First we should get back on the road.”

  “What about the taurans?” Seth asked.

  “Explain,” Ryland said.

  “Amulon and the taurans forced us off the road,” Seth said bitterly. “They basically handed us over to the dragons.”

  “I arrived too late to witness that,” Ryland said. “Yet your words reverberate with truth. Amulon has committed treason.”

  “He isn’t alone,” Seth said.

  “Amulon!” Ryland shouted in a voice that rivaled dragon roars. “Come face your judgment.”

  The Somber Knight mounted Umbro, then extended a gauntleted hand down to Eve. After hoisting her aboard, he hauled Seth up as well. The back of the bull was too wide for Seth or Eve to straddle without doing the splits, so they knelt behind Ryland. The bull did not run smoothly, and Seth found it took all of his concentration to maintain his balance.

  In a few moments they were back on the road, confronting Amulon and about twenty other taurans, who huddled together, weapons ready. They looked distrustful and angry.

  “Amulon,” Ryland said, his voice more grave than Seth had ever heard it. “You forced the active caretakers of Wyrmroost off the road and into mortal peril. How plead you?”

  For the first time since Seth had met Amulon, the rumitaur appeared uncertain. “Celebrant is also a caretaker. I was acting under his orders.”

  “Celebrant was a lesser caretaker who has declared war against the rightful caretakers of Wyrmroost,” Ryland said. “You side with the dragons in this conflict?”

  Amulon straightened. “We do.”

  “And you are guilty of forcing the caretakers off the road?” Ryland asked.

  Amulon thrust his powerful chest forward. “I am proud.”

  “Then I find you guilty of treason,” Ryland said. “As no lives have been lost yet resulting from your actions, Seth can choose between death and exile for you.”

  “Wait, I choose?” Seth asked.

  “Yes,” Ryland said. “Shall I claim his head or banish him?”

  Seth frowned. “Kendra is alive?”

  “For now, yes,” Ryland said.

  “I need no mercy from a whelp,” Amulon said. “If you want my head, you clattering relic from days long gone, come try to take it.”

  “I await your command,” Ryland said to Seth.

  “Exile,” Seth said. “Not fair to kill him if we all lived.”

  “Very well,” Ryland said, raising his sword above his head. “Amulon, son of Warrow, seeing as you speak for the taurans, and a score of your fellows aided your crime, I hereby revoke your claim to your territory, along with access to the thoro
ughfares reserved for the friends of Blackwell Keep.”

  “Celebrant will reinstate us,” Amulon said.

  “Your new domain will encompass the barrows, lackluster wood, and the adjoining meadows,” Ryland continued.

  “That is a domain of haunts and shades,” Amulon scoffed.

  “And now of the taurans as well,” Ryland said. “Sleep lightly. Get to your new domain promptly. Anywhere else on this preserve, you are in extreme violation of trespass, with prejudice.” He slashed his sword twice in their direction.

  “This cannot be,” Amulon said, beginning to look panicked.

  “They’ll be hunted anywhere else they go,” Eve said. “Fair game to any creature.”

  “Those taurans still at the Herdlands are also trespassing,” Ryland said. “Warn them if you can. Should they linger longer than a day, their lives are forfeit. Once they have departed, reentry is of course barred. And you will be rejected by the protections of this road the moment my sword touches the ground.”

  Amulon and the taurans all scattered to the left side of the road—all except one rumitaur, who glared at Ryland until the tip of his sword touched the dirt. Brilliant streaks of energy enveloped the stubborn rumitaur, hurling him off the road to land on his side, fur badly singed. One of the cervitaurs shot an arrow at the Somber Knight, but it failed to cross the edge of the road, deflected with a flash.

  “Begone, taurans,” Ryland called. “I will consider your lingering an invitation to combat. Do not forget, I am among the predators who can hunt you outside the barrows.”

  “All this for bothering children?” Amulon cried.

  “This is for siding with the dragons against the caretakers,” Ryland declared. “Let it be a warning to all.”

  The taurans ran away.

  “You have some serious power,” Seth said.

  “In this instance, my power derives from the treaty they violated,” Ryland said.

  “The dragons violated the treaty too,” Seth said.

  “Which freed me to attack them,” Ryland said. “But the territories are tied to direct treaties with the caretakers. I could banish the taurans from their homes for treason. There is no equivalent for the dragons—except I can revoke Celebrant’s status as a caretaker.”