When Dragons Die- The Complete Trilogy Box Set

by K. Scott Lewis

  “And Artalon,” she concluded, “is the key to controlling the Kairantheum. Right now, we are subject to mortal beliefs. Even though they serve us, we are imprisoned by their minds and dreams. I have broken free of the Kairantheum”—partially—“and now have physical form in a mechanical body. There are those among the mortals who now also know the Kairantheum’s secret, and they intend to use Artalon to control us, to make us no better than the demons of Dis.”

  There was a tremor of discomfort in the chamber. The floating crystals echoed the trembling with notes of irritation.

  “It’s said,” Modhrin’s voice came from across the glass disc, “that no one can unlock Artalon.” He stood with feet firmly planted shoulder-width apart, arms crossed over his white beard. His great two-handed hammer was slung over his back, and he wore a wide-brimmed hat.

  “How long have you stood there?” Athra accused the dwarf god.

  “Long enough,” Modhrin replied. “So, you’re saying I didn’t forge the Kairantheum.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Athra confirmed, bracing for an argument.

  “And that I didn’t create the dwarves.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And that the dwarves created me through their stories.”

  “And the humans of Hammerfold,” Athra added.

  He gave an amused snort, completely unlike the earlier snort from Voldun. “Well, lucky me. I’m rather fond of both dwarves and Hammerfoldians. If we have to be made by them, I think I got the better end of the deal than you sorry lot, don’t you agree?” Then he muttered, “And it explains why the lot of you are so stuck up…”

  “That’s not the point,” Athra said. Why did he not argue? He already knew!

  “The point is,” Voldun chimed in, “we cannot take the chance of a mortal learning Artalon’s secrets. We cannot become their slaves.”

  “Ultimately, I hope to get us all out of the Kairantheum,” she said. “But until then—”

  “—until then, we must seize Artalon!” Voldun finished for her.

  She smiled to herself. Good. That’s exactly what she wanted him to say.

  “My orcs will march on the city.”

  “And how will they get there?” Yamosh chimed in. “It’s not as if they have a fleet.”

  “Surafel,” Athra answered. “I will go to the sultan and raise his navy. You,” she turned to the orc god, “must ensure your brutes don’t lay war on Surafel. Artalon is the objective.”

  Voldun frowned. “I am no fool, Athra.”

  He was right. He was bloodthirsty, but he was not stupid. He inspired the most crafty and cunning of generals and military strategists just as he did the barbarian hero holding the line against all odds. Voldun was considered an evil god by the Nine Realms, but in truth he was more complicated than that.

  “We will mobilize the Vemnai,” Soorleyn said. Rin slipped her arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck, unable to see the admiring glance that Soorleyn slipped towards Keruhn. Only a matter of time. Women were so damned fickle. Except for Athra herself, of course.

  “And the ratling airships of Kallanista will carry them,” Geala added.

  “I…” Keruhn started and then paused before continuing. “Our influence in Hammerfold is somewhat diminished with Rajamin’s death.”

  Athra nodded. “We will do this without them. Modhrin?”

  The dwarf regarded her for a moment as if studying her. He was an Elder God, and she could not hide her thoughts from him. At least she had nothing to hide. There was something in his eyes that troubled her, and she fought off the urge to beg his forgiveness—for what she did not know.

  Modrin gave a single, curt nod. “I will mobilize the kelds.” And then he stepped back into his ring and vanished.

  The others followed his lead, not wishing to stay there any longer than necessary, until only Nephyr remained with Athra.

  The Black Goddess glided over to her on a carpet of shadow and laid her hands on Athra’s shoulders. Nephyr was many things. Lady of Death and Destruction—but also the Supernal Mother. From her, all life emerged—

  Damn it, Athra, stop thinking this way!

  “It does not matter the truth of what you say,” Nephyr said. “Even within the Kairantheum I see deeper than all, for that is how the Kairantheum made me.” A slight smile touched her violet lips. “Or… I am who the Kairantheum allowed to enter and meet mortal faith.”

  Athra frowned.

  “Listen to me child. It will not be easy, what you plan. The secret is revealed, and all will seek to take Artalon for themselves. Even now, the gnomes move to reclaim the city they built long ago. The sidhe will try to take it, not wishing to hand over control of the gods to anyone—not even another god. Especially not to a god.”

  A chill ran through Athra. “What is my fate, Mother?” she asked. She couldn’t help asking. Everything in her core responded to the purpose of Nephyr’s being.

  Nephyr only smiled and held a single finger to her lips. She slid away from Athra to return to her framed constellation. Before she dissipated, she turned one last time.

  “We all have a destiny, Goddess of Civilization. Your path will not be an easy one. But if you have faith, your fate will see that you meet it.”

  Athra stood alone in the Celestial Temple.

  Have faith… What a strange thing to tell a goddess.

  Athra’s consciousness returned to the construct’s body. Her eyes lit when she fused with physical form once more. If she could have breathed, she would have uttered a sigh of relief. She much preferred material form to diffuse existence as a spirit, even if she was a goddess.

  The gorgon priests and priestesses still watched over her body with their hundreds of serpent eyes.

  “What is your command, lady?” the High Priestess asked. The snakes on her head were a pretty shade of cyan and pink.

  “Continue to preserve the sanctity of this place,” Athra replied. “Soon we will no longer have need of the Celestial Temple, and when that time comes, you will be rewarded with your own civilization, free from crafted and constructed things. For now, I return to my ship to visit the sultan of Surafel. It is time he remembers that Surafel was the first human city I raised from tribal life.”

  No I didn’t, and no it isn’t.

  Without another word, she left the chamber behind, donning her robes and veil before leaving the palace and returning to the city streets. She made her way to the docks without incident. By nightfall the crew was gathered, and they set sail over the seas once more.

  She stared up at the starry expanse.

  I will die before I let them take away our godhood.

  9 - Roasted Hares and White Bears

  The journey over the southern stretch of the Ice Plains was pleasant enough in August. As the miles stretched beneath them, the grasses grew short and yellow, diminishing into sparse patches. In the middle of the day, the sun warmed their backs, but every morning they woke up to frost on the ground.

  Before nightfall, Tiberan would pitch the small lean-to in order to keep the wind off them. The elven sleeping rolls Rolaf had included in their packs allowed them a good night’s rest while frost settled over the plains.

  Tiberan cast his senses out over the land, but they were alone for miles. Only the occasional field mouse, hunting hawk overhead, and herd of elk shared the plains with them. He could feel the presence of no other humanoid besides Keira and himself, either on the plains’ surface or beneath them in the earth. It took them three weeks to cross the plains, and by August’s end the wind carried with it the promise of winter’s chill.

  On September’s eve, they met their first Glavlunder hunting party. The Glavlunders were a human tribe, with no strain of darklings nor wolven in their midst. They had kept racial purity not from any sense of xenophobia, but rather from simple isolation. Few people wanted to settle in the cold, frozen north, so as far as the rest of the world was concerned, the Glavlunders could have it.

  Th
ere were five in the group that approached Tiberan and his companions. They each rode massive horse-sized wolves, with thick coats of fur and dangling leather straps that allowed the humans to climb into their saddles. Patches of darker black folded through the tawny fur in stripes, and white-furred bellies and chins accented their coats.

  The Glavlunders themselves were brown skinned, and all had black hair. Their eyes varied from brown to piercing blue, narrow and more almond-shaped than an elf’s, and their faces were round, with thin beards. They wore soft leathers and patched-together fur skins, with feathers, small bones, and tiny horns woven into long braided hair. For weapons they carried spears and bows. Tiberan also noted knives on their belts and hanging from their saddles, but no long blades of military purpose. Four of them were men.

  One of the men, presumably the lead, left his comrades and approached. He stopped out of Tiberan’s reach. The seelie sensed his tension, but the man refrained from reaching for his weapons. Tiberan could tell, however, that he would be quick to ready them should he need them. The man held himself in the taut, ready posture of a predator, and he watched Tiberan intently. Tiberan caught the scent of adrenalin in the wind, without the trace of fear. He was cautious, but not hostile.

  The Glavlunder spoke in a smoothly guttural language that had a strangely melodic gurgling to its flow. Keira shook her head. “I can’t understand him,” she told Tiberan.

  The man stopped talking when he heard her speak. A look of frustration overcame his face. He spoke again.

  Tiberan reached out to him with the inner Dragon’s green light that only he could see. It was the same way he could bond with animals, but the light would not grant him mastery over a sapient being. Mastery, however, was not what he sought.

  The man could not feel the connection, but he kept talking, repeating the same phrases slower and louder each time.

  Through the link, Tiberan wakened old Dragon memories that lay dormant within him. The man’s words slipped into sharp clarity.

  “We are of the Glavlund tribe,” the man was saying. “Why are you this far north? What are you? Do you need help?”

  That’s better, Ghost indicated through their mental link. Now that Tiberan understood the language, Ghost could as well. Still, that left Keira in the dark.

  “My name is Tiberan,” he replied in their native tongue, “and these are my companions, Keira and Ghost.”

  Keira’s eyes widened and she gave him an incredulous look when he responded in Glavlundic.

  The man too seemed surprised, given Tiberan’s obvious lack of understanding just moments before.

  “How is it you speak our language so naturally, in the span of moments?” the man asked. “And how is it you walk beside a great cat in peace? Are you a demon?”

  “I assure you,” Tiberan responded. “I am no demon, nor am I a witch.” Interesting. He was going to say wizard, but the Glavlunders’ language brought him to a different word. “I am blessed with an affinity for the beasts of this world, and Ghost is my companion and friend.”

  “What are you?” the man asked again. “You have the air of an elf, but you look like no elf I’ve seen.”

  “I am a light elf, a seelie,” Tiberan responded. “We’ve traveled to warn your people of an enemy from the depths. We would not have you caught unawares.”

  The man frowned. “An enemy, you say.”

  “Of the elder days,” Tiberan affirmed.

  “What’s he saying?” Keira asked.

  “I’m convincing him we have a reason to be here and hostility is in neither of our interests.”

  “Let them ponder this, then,” she said, and shifted into her wolven form.

  The man’s wolf stepped back and growled. Instinctively, the Glavlunder grabbed and hurled his spear at the wolven woman. Tiberan’s arm shot out and caught it before it impaled Keira head to toe.

  “Foolish pup!” Tiberan snapped at her angrily. It had all happened quicker than she could react, and she stood there, blue wolf eyes wide in surprise. The tone of his voice froze her in place, as it did the Glavlunder man.

  The Glavlunder mounts did not calm. All the wolves growled and slowly closed in around them. Tiberan reached out to them and touched their souls.

  We mean no harm, he told them. She is a young pup.

  The wolves’ demeanor instantly changed. They relaxed and then lay down on the ground, much to the surprise of the Glavlunders.

  He could smell the animal instinct in Keira take over, and she started to growl. He reached out and touched her with his spirit’s green light. Her animal form opened her to him in ways her human form could not. He couldn’t bond her like a real wolf, but he made just enough of a connection that he could reach in and sooth the wolf aspect of her being until it relaxed and retreated beneath her human self. She snorted, shaking her head in surprise, and was unable to keep herself from shifting back into human form.

  “How did you do that?” she asked with a quiet anger. He could tell that his interference in her inner being upset her more than the spear had.

  “Control yourself,” Tiberan stated coldly. Then he went back to addressing the Glavlunder.

  He tossed the spear back to the hunter. “Forgive her outburst,” he said in Glavlundic. “She too is my friend and companion, but she is… young.”

  The hunter nodded. “I too apologize,” he said. “I have heard legends of the wolf people, but I have never seen one. I threw my spear in haste, without thinking, and our own wolves seem to accept you, though I have never seen them behave this way. I’ve come to trust their instincts. Do you have any more… surprises?”

  “No,” Tiberan shook his head. “May we pass peacefully to your village?”

  The man nodded. “You will walk with us. I am Henriki, and these are my hunting comrades, Jaakima, Jalo, Nooa, and the woman is Lyyti. We are two days’ ride from home. We will make camp tonight on the plains, and on the morrow you will speak to Illeski, our huntmaster, and Esteri, our hearthmother.”

  A thought of the Vemnai cloister and their blue-skinned, religion-crazed Matriarch flashed through Tiberan’s mind. He glanced at Keira as they proceeded to follow the wolf riders. The last time he had gone with a hunting party into a primitive tribe, the tribe had tried to bend him and Aradma to their ways until they broke on their own efforts.

  Before breaking camp that evening, they came across a warren of arctic hare. The rabbits’ ears perked up and all pointed at them as they approached. Henriki halted the party, and the humans dismounted. Tiberan could sense the rabbits each communicating among themselves in their own way.

  “We can trap them and dine well tonight,” Henriki said.

  “They are already alerted to us and planning their escape.”

  Henriki looked at Tiberan strangely.

  “Why did we stop?” Keira asked.

  “There are rabbits ahead,” Tiberan said. “They intend to hunt them for dinner.”

  Keira grinned. “Rabbits, you say?” She shifted into her wolven form. “Ah yes, I smell them now,” she said in her deeper, silky voice.

  Show me where they are, Ghost said. She and I will bring them down.

  Ghost bounded up to Kiera and pointed his nose at her and then across the field. She snorted and laughed, and the two of them were off.

  Reaching out to Ghost was natural, but now Tiberan also reached out to Keira as he had done before. Instead of subduing her wolf aspect, he connected with it. Suddenly, he felt her thoughts and feelings as she ran, and she felt his presence.

  Tiberan? her mind asked tentatively.

  Yes, he responded. I can touch the animal in you, as I do with Ghost.

  Ah! Ghost joined in. That is better.

  Ghost! Keira’s mind exclaimed. I can hear you too!

  Through our shared link, Ghost responded.

  Tiberan sensed the rabbits’ location. He shared his feelings with both his companions. He could feel their excitement as the lust for the hunt overtook them.

 
Ghost ran to the right and Keira to the left. Tiberan felt a strange blend of feline and canine muscles pounding as they glided over the short grass. They slunk low and around, and the rabbits, focused instead on the five wolves and their human hunters, hadn’t noticed the two predatory animals flanking them.

  Be careful, Tiberan reminded his companions though their link. Kill, but do not devour. We’d all like to eat tonight, and it would be good to share with the Glavlunders. Take what you can, but flush them towards me.

  With that, Tiberan ran off to the south, leaving the Glavlunders behind. They grew alarmed, but Henriki seemed to sense something curious was afoot, and he ordered his comrades to wait and watch.

  Ghost and Keira rushed forward from the opposite side of Tiberan, closing in on the warren from each flank. Ghost caught one of them, and Keira caught two with her hands. The rest bolted in a wave right towards the seelie man.

  The Glavlunders watched as he moved with uncanny speed, nocking and releasing the sidhe arrows Tallindra had given him. He downed several more, and the warren turned direction and bolted towards the tribesmen. But the Glavlunders hadn’t sat idle. They had spread their nets while Tiberan and his friends flushed their prey towards them. Some of the rabbits escaped to live another day, but they were diminished in number.

  “Come!” Tiberan laughed, inviting the Glavlunders. “Let us gather our dinner!” He retrieved his arrows, and they strung thirty rabbits to the wolf saddles. Keira turned in her two, but Ghost simply licked his lips with a self-satisfied air.

  Tiberan smiled at Keira, and in a brief instant he felt longing from her, a woman’s desire. She became aware of his surprise, and then the connection between them was severed as she shifted back into human form. She scowled, and would not meet his gaze. The scent of shame and anger emanated from her.

  They made camp a few miles later, an hour before sunset. The chill of the plains crept over the land, and Tiberan knew it would not be long before the elven garb Tallindra gave them would be insufficient.

  The Glavlunders looked away whenever he met their eyes, all except Henriki. As nightfall came, they lit a small campfire and skewered eight of the rabbits.