When Dragons Die- The Complete Trilogy Box Set

by K. Scott Lewis

  “No!” Tiberan shouted and reached out for her.

  His heart caught in his throat, and anguish over the inevitable loss seized his body. She had landed on her feet, but realization in her ice-blue eyes lit up in forlorn sadness as she met his gaze one last time.

  It seemed then as if time slowed, as if this memory of losing Keira would remain permanently etched in his brain. He could see the snow descend upon her even now, and in another moment she would be lost to its fury…

  …and then he realized it was not a trick of his mind. Time had slowed. Frozen, in fact.

  The troglodytes around him were in midstruggle with his companions. Keira’s wolf gaze still remained locked on him, and he could see the individual fingers of snow reaching for her from the cloudy mass that hung suspended in the air.

  He was the only thing in the world free to move. Something trembled and vibrated in his heart, and the world had taken the faintest hint of a purplish hue. He didn’t know how he had caused this, but somehow he knew that something in him had awakened at seeing Keira’s doom. It was a power foreign to the Green Dragon.

  Not questioning it, and not knowing how long it would last—he was acutely aware he was not in control of it—he rushed forward to Keira. He could reach up and touch the snow from where he stood, but he thought it best not to tempt fate. He took her in his arms, and when he touched her, she moved again. It was as if he pulled her into his own temporal pocket, which explained why the snow on the ground gave way to his footprints, and why the air responded to his breath. The cold misty puffs of exhalation hung suspended after they left his body, and he noted with a passing thought that even though he left footprints, the sound of snow crunching never reached his ears.

  “How?” Keira asked, eyes wide. “How is this possible?” Her voice seemed muffled, far away, as if the sound had a hard time crossing the slowed time between them even as he held her.

  “I don’t know,” he answered, pressing his lips to her wolf ears. He cradled her against his chest, hurrying back underneath the stone slab. He wondered for a moment if he could simply kill the remaining troglodytes while time was still frozen, but as soon as he had her back safely underneath the shelter, the thing in his heart stopped tingling. Snow crashed around them once more. Tiberan’s elven ears were sharp enough to discern something more, something that would have been imperceptible to anyone else—he noted that the snow crunch of all the footsteps he had made sounded at once when time returned to its flow, and the purplish hue faded from the air.

  Cloudpaw made a game of knocking troglodytes into the rushing snow. Tiberan drew his knives, fighting at Keira’s side. Her sword-enhanced claws made formidable weapons, and the troglodytes were wary not to blindly charge her.

  Tiberan stabbed and whirled, avoiding the blade of the troglodyte who rushed him. He pulled the enemy off balance and then thrust one dagger beneath the creature’s unprotected armpit, the other he plunged into his head. Dark blood sprayed hot on the icy ground.

  Illeski fought with his spear. Beside him, Osku opened his fingers, and magical fire and lightning crackled forth.

  He’s a hearthmaker, Tiberan remembered. He is a witch, like Esteri. It was good to know they had magic on their side.

  One by one, the companions overcame the enemy, slaying or maneuvering them into the rushing avalanche to be buried by its fury. When it was done, they caught their breath until the snow settled.

  When everything had calmed, they climbed out from under the shelter. It was slower going now; the snow had settled waist-deep on the path. Cloudpaw trudged ahead, making something of a trail the wolf riders could move through. Illeski seemed to relax now that the avalanche had fallen. The pressure up at the top of the mountain had been relieved. It was another half mile before they left the Demon Shelf behind and returned to pine woodlands.

  Tiberan stole a glance at Keira, and a welling of emotion rushed through him in gratitude at seeing her alive. She seemed to sense his feelings through their link, and she glanced back at him. He looked away.

  “Let’s rest here for the night,” Osku said. “If more troglodytes emerge, I need to be ready. I should meditate and replenish my magic.”

  Illeski nodded. “Yes. And a fire too would be nice.”

  They made camp, and Osku sat cross-legged on the ground with his back to one of the trees. He placed his hands on his knees and closed his eyes. Tiberan watched in amazement as scores of tiny faerie, little nude men and women with gossamer dragonfly wings, flitted about Osku’s aura. They summoned lights and sigils, pressing the power of the witch’s spells back into the sphere of his being.

  Tiberan looked on them in sadness. With the Otherworld destroyed, they were exiles in this land.

  That night they made a small campfire. A full moon rose overhead, and Tiberan walked to the light’s edge and leaned against a tree. He stared out over the silvery sea of the Demon Shelf over which they had crossed the previous day.

  A pack of wolves moved over the snow from the north. Tiberan did not know from where they came, only that they gathered on the top of the rock slab. The shadowy form of a man moved among them. He had great stag antlers on his head.

  “The Hunter walks among us,” Osku whispered, coming up beside Tiberan. The two men watched the wolves gather around the shadowy figure.

  “Keruhn,” Tiberan stated.

  “Yes,” Osku replied. “The Horned Hunter. These mountains are his.”

  “You speak as if seeing a god is expected.”

  “In these mountains, it is not unheard of,” Osku replied. “We were too far north of the God-King’s reach. We kept his worship alive.”

  Tiberan regarded Osku for a moment. “You have no runewardens,” he remarked.

  Osku nodded. “True. The ice is a harsh mistress. Here, Keruhn rewards those who can help themselves. We don’t worship him for what he can do for us. Only for what he represents to us.”

  “The hearth and the hunt.”

  “Yes. Life.”

  “More than that,” Tiberan added, seeing the mystery. “Life exists effortlessly in many places. I emerged in this world in the jungles of Vemnai. Life grew there in abundance. Your life here…” He paused. “It is beautiful. You live in defiance of the land.”

  “We will not go quietly into the cold night of death,” Osku said. “It is a traditional saying of my people. The mystery of the hearth fire: We will hunt, and we will love, and we will live. Thus we will light the fires, and there will be Hearth between us.”

  Tiberan looked at the image of the Hunter once more. The man turned his head, and even this far away Tiberan could tell their eyes met. It seemed for a moment that Keruhn’s gaze was brought into close focus, as if the distance between them shrank. Keruhn’s whisker-shrouded lips turned into a secretive smile, and his right eye—his left socket lay empty—glimmered with mirth. He put his finger to his lips for a brief moment, then the distance returned, and he was once again a far-off silhouette against the moonlit sky.

  Four weeks later, in the depths of December, they finally reached their destination. There had been no more troglodyte attacks, but Tiberan still felt their movements beneath them from time to time. Illeski led them up a narrow mountain trail, winding along the mountainside. The sheer rock wall to their right climbed high above them, and to their left there was a cliff descending to a rushing river hundreds of feet below. The trail was just wide enough for Cloudpaw, and Tiberan was grateful that the snowstorms hadn’t returned. They walked around a bend, and then Tiberan stopped to take in the beauty of the land.

  They stood level with a placid lake that spilled over into a long, narrow waterfall into the river below. The water fell for hundreds of feet, and the sun spilled dazzling light over snow and ice, mixing with an iridescent cascade of rainbows. Teal mineral veins stretched through the warm gray rock, and steam wafted over and down the sides of the waterfall. Against the backdrop of the mountain range, Tiberan held his breath in delightful awe over nature’s bea
uty. In that moment, joy flooded through him that he had traveled so far that he could witness this, and that he could share in this site with Keira. She stood beside him, sharing in the wonder with him.

  They continued on the trail, which led to flat ground beside the small lake. They followed it past the lake to the mouth of the river.

  A series of flat clearings and pools lay hidden from view, encircled by orange, gray, and teal rock walls that jutted towards the sky. The pools were pristinely clear over shallow turquoise mineral beds, with deeper openings that bored into the ground beneath the water in great vertical pits of sapphire blue. The water churned above these pits, and bubbles roiled over the surface.

  “That’s steam!” Tiberan remarked. Not mist against the cold air, but actual steam. He placed his hand over the water, not quite touching its surface. Moist warmth kissed his fingertips and palms.

  “Hot springs,” Illeski confirmed. “This is the mouth of Faerieholm.”

  The back pool opened into a cave, and the flat, dry rock of the trail continued into the depths of the mountain. Tiberan noted similar caves all around them. Beds of mushrooms and lichen blanketed the walls and floors.

  “Here, in this cave, you will find Valkrage’s treasure,” Illeski said. “I will wait for you here. Go and see what you may, light elf.”

  “I will enter with you, Tiberan,” Osku said. “I will offer such insight as I may.”

  Wait for me, Tiberan told Ghost and Cloudpaw.

  I will come with you, Keira responded.

  Tiberan nodded and stepped with them into the cave. Inside, they found a wide and squat cavern, lit by glowing lichen that cast a blue hue onto the pool. Mist lay over the water’s surface, but there was something strange about it.

  “Don’t touch the water,” Tiberan told them. “The mist… see. It does not move.”

  Osku nodded. “It is frozen in time.”

  “Whatever magic Valkrage put over this place,” Tiberan mused, “he meant for it to last. It did not fade with his death.”

  “Look beneath the mists,” Osku said. “If the troglodytes are indeed searching for something, this is what they seek.”

  Tiberan regarded the witch for a moment. “You’ve been here before,” he said.

  Osku nodded. “Only a few times. Our circle returns to check every so often if Faerieholm is still closed to us.”

  “But only this cave is sealed,” Tiberan protested. “The outer pools are beautiful.”

  “Yes,” Osku said. “But the Dragon’s magic closed the gates to the Otherworld here and drove the faerie away. We followed, for they are the source of our power in the Hearthmakers Circle. Even now, my familiars are agitated—not because this magic is evil, but because it is powerful. Its radiance is disturbing to their magical beings. Would you choose to live next to the sun?”

  Tiberan considered. “I understand,” he assented. He knelt and stared into the pool’s depths. It was difficult to make out their forms, but he could see clusters of eggs resting on the floor beneath the water. The eggs were large; he guessed six inches long.

  “What is that?” Keira asked. She pointed to a circular etching on the floor, with geometric grooves crossing its surface between its circumference.

  “That is the keyhole for the magic of this place,” Osku told her. “And this is why whatever remains here is safe from the troglodytes’ grasp. Valkrage is the key, for it will unlock only for him. They might find this place, but if they touch the mists, they will be trapped frozen in time.”

  To demonstrate, Osku took a pebble from the ground. He flipped it into the water. The tiny stone fell, but when it touched the uppermost tendril of suspended mist, it stopped, affixed in the air.

  Tiberan stared at the carved sigil on the ground. Valkrage is the key.

  For a moment, he saw the image of Keruhn, the Horned God. The god smiled, winked, and shook his head. He pointed at Tiberan.

  Tiberan shook his head to clear the vision.

  “What?” Keira asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Tiberan replied. The god wanted him to step on the sigil. Why would the god want to help them?

  I pass my seal to you, Valkrage had told him before he died.

  A Dragon memory fell into place, and he now understood what this meant. He held Eldrikura’s seal of authority. He was the Seal of Time, just as Graelyn had been the Seal of Life. In that moment, he understood

  Tiberan was the key. Suddenly he felt a strong sense of purpose, as if he had been brought here for a reason.

  He stepped onto the circle.

  “What are you doing?” Keira cried in alarm.

  The sigil flared to life, and purple lightning filled its crevices. It spread over the pools, and the frozen crust of time fell away. The steamy mist rolled and flowed as it should, and Osku’s suspended pebble dropped into the water with a satisfying ploop.

  Tiberan stepped to the side of the pool and knelt down once more. He removed his gloves and fur cloak, and rolled back the supple sleeves of the sidhe leather. He plunged his arms into the water and hissed. The water wasn’t hot, but the warmth seemed scalding at first to his cold-acclimated skin. He took an egg in his hands, and it felt warmer still.

  He lifted the egg from the water and held it in front of him. Its shell was a deep blue, and he could see a light shining from within it. Something moved. The warmth was not imagined.

  Tiberan trembled. He placed the egg gently on the ground, almost afraid to touch something so precious. Emotion flooded him, and tears fell unbidden from his eyes.

  “What is it?” Keira asked.

  “It is Valkrage’s protection of the future,” Tiberan responded softly. “He knew all of his kind in Dragonholm would die…” He trailed off before continuing with a deep breath. “These are dragon eggs. They are the last of their kind.”

  Osku nodded. “I suspected as much, but we didn’t know for sure. This must be what the troglodytes are after. They must not find this place.”

  “But I have now opened it,” Tiberan said. I was brought here for a purpose. Whose purpose? What purpose? “It won’t be enough to defend this place from a few raiding bands. They are here with a purpose, and the question is, whose purpose? If we kill them, more will come. We have to hide the eggs, far away from here.”

  Osku nodded. “We will gather them into our saddle packs.”

  “We must hurry,” Tiberan said. “It is only a matter of time before the troglodytes find us here.”

  The four of them took all the eggs from the pool. There were only forty, and they had enough space in their saddlebags to carry them, space that would otherwise have been used for carrying game back to a hearth-home.

  They left the winter paradise empty. The troglodytes would find nothing. Even as they departed on the mountain trail, Tiberan could feel the enemy moving on the other side of the rock wall in mountain tunnels. They hurried away. Had they been an hour later, the enemy would have found them with the eggs.

  “We must find the others,” Tiberan told him. “We will hide the eggs among your people, one egg per hearth. That will keep them hidden, and if one is found, we don’t lose all of them.”

  Illeski agreed. “We take the western trail to the plains. I know the hunting grounds and where my people like to gather. We will spread the eggs among—”

  “—many baskets.” Keira chuckled.

  Illeski gave her a confused look. “No, not baskets,” he said.

  Tiberan just nodded and grinned at her.

  That evening, the snow returned. They pitched their tents and forwent a fire. Tiberan sat with Keira in their tent. He held one of the dragon eggs in his hands, stroking its smooth surface. Each egg put off ambient heat, and with the twenty they had they didn’t need to huddle for warmth. Tiberan stripped his leathers to his waist and sat bare chested as he held the egg. Keira had also felt the heat. She shifted quickly into human form, dropped the thick fur cloak, and then shifted back to thinner fur.

  He handed her the e
gg, and she replaced it gently in the pack with the others.

  He removed the candle Tallindra had given them. He had not yet lit it once. He wondered how many times it would allow him to communicate with her before its wax was spent.

  He struck a flint and lit the wick.

  The small flame caught and held fast the wick, flickering for a moment before finding its strength. A pink glow washed over him, and he sat in front of it, legs folded as he gazed expectantly at the flame. Keira sat beside him.

  They waited for ten minutes, and Tiberan was about to pinch the flame and try later when the image of Tallindra’s face coalesced above the flame.

  “Tiberan!” she said, sounding surprised. Her voice came through clear but quietly. “This is sooner than I’d expected.” She seemed distracted.

  “We found something,” Tiberan told her. “You seemed interested in Valkrage when last we spoke.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “He was here,” Tiberan replied. “There is no question now.”

  Tallindra grew silent for a moment, focusing on them fully. “What did you find?”

  “Dragon eggs,” Tiberan said. “The troglodytes were after them. We may need your help to protect them.”

  Another long pause of silence. Finally: “What have you done with them? Are they safe?”

  “For now,” Tiberan said. “We will hide them.”

  “Good,” she said. Then she frowned. “I can’t speak long. I’ve returned to Sirindle to try to talk some sense into the Frost Court, and it’s not safe for me to talk here. I can’t help you. It grieves me to say my own people cannot be trusted with this secret. Keep them hidden. If anyone finds out about them, they will want to possess them. There is no defense against dragon fire.”

  “They are eggs.”

  “They will grow,” Tallindra replied, “and when they do, their power will be coveted. You must not let them fall into troglodyte hands…” She trailed off and bit her lip. “Or anyone else’s. I will contact you when I can and will tell no one of this. Keep them secret, Tiberan. Keep them free.”