“And do you?”
My only response was a sharp nod. It wasn’t like I could admit to not being sure when seven sleeping dragons stood on the other bank of the lake, listening to my every word. We reached a willow tree, where Niger and his friend were waiting.
“We’re leaving Mount Fornax to find the stolen eggs, and I could use your experience for the mission,” I said. “Will you two come with me?”
His face split into a grin that made his eyes glint like polished jet. “Only if you let my mates from drogott come along.”
My spirits lifted, and I exhaled my relief. It wouldn’t be just me venturing into the capital.
“Can I come too?” asked Stafford.
“I did promise not to leave you out of the next adventure.”
He let out a happy whoop.
I turned to Evolene. “A powerful witch would be very helpful, too.”
Her brows drew together. “B-but I can’t ride a dragon.”
“You can ride with me,” Stafford blurted, his cheeks red.
Evolene flushed and placed her fingers over her mouth. I chewed my lip. In his enthusiasm, Stafford had forgotten about propriety toward members of the opposite sex. I was about to volunteer to take her, when she turned and said to Stafford. “Thank you, I-I will.”
My brows rose. Last week, she and Phoenix had seemed awfully close. Perhaps he had just been comforting her while she had pretended to be the grieving daughter. I shook off those thoughts. Now was not the time for idle gossip. Seven of the strongest creatures in the Known World would burn the country to ashes if I didn’t bring back their eggs.
“The other fourteen are awake, too,” said Fyrian. “There wasn’t enough room around the lake for them all.”
A shudder penetrated my bones to the marrow. Failing this mission was not an option unless I wanted the entire continent to be overrun with furious dragons.
Niger clapped his companion on the shoulder. “See who you can find from the team and tell them to meet us at the courtyard.”
“While we’re waiting, let’s get some supplies,” I said.
“The equipment room behind the reception block is the nearest.” Niger headed around the sand brick building.
Stafford shrugged and followed after him. I was about to join them when Evolene grabbed my arm. “Two of them can handle the saddles. Let’s wait for them in the courtyard, where we can talk.”
Dread thickened my stomach, and I gulped hard. We hadn’t finished our discussion about how King Magnar had stolen the eggs, and I was sure she would tell me why she thought I was wrong for believing they were in the palace. We continued in silence over the lawn toward the reception building, and I tried not to imagine the narrowed gaze of the sleeping dragons burning my back.
“Actually, they’ve gone quiet,” said Fyrian. “It looks like they’re talking among themselves.”
“They’re probably planning what they’ll do if I don’t return by sunset.”
“Probably.”
We reached the courtyard outside the reception area. Fulmen, the regular-sized silver dragon sent by his larger counterparts to sniff out the eggs, waited for us on the sandstone courtyard. Next to him was a yellow dragon I recognized from the drogott match.
Evolene raised her staff and created a bubble of silence around us that was so thick, its opaque magic obscured my view of the dragons.
“What did you want to say?” I asked.
“I was going to tell you that I don’t think King Magnar’s invisible sisters could have moved the eggs into the royal carriage so quickly.”
My mind raced for an answer. “They arrived in that two-story, golden carriage pulled by camelops, right?”
“Y-yes, but I don’t see what—”
“So we know what time they crossed the wards. Five of them sat in the royal box, while the other two used a fairy artifact to sniff out the eggs.”
Evolene shook her head, as though such devices were a figment of my imagination.
I ignored her gesture and plowed on with my theory. “About two hours later, the locusts struck, and you gave King Magnar the tour of the mountain. He wanted to be there when the theft was discovered to establish his alibi.”
“W-when I sounded the alarm, it locked down the wards. T-they wouldn’t have been able to escape.” She wrapped her arms around her chest and cringed, as though bracing herself for an attack.
“Unless they left before you sounded the alarm,” I said.
Evolene dipped her head and remained silent for several moments. Butterflies of trepidation fluttered in my stomach. She knew more about the practice of magic than me, and if my theory of how the two witches had stolen the eggs was wrong, we were all in trouble. I swallowed hard, waiting for her reply.
There was no other solution. Even before the locust attack, the witches would not have been able to leave the mountain undetected. Their only option was to put the eggs in the one vehicle that wouldn’t be detained or inspected: Aunt Cendrilla’s.
“Two witches couldn’t move the eggs,” she said at last. I was about to tell her that they used their staff, when she added, “Eggs are magically resistant, and it would take six of them to levitate one. That’s why the healers need half-ogre grooms to transport them by hand.”
My stomach churned, and the dread lining it thickened into a solid mass. Even though I couldn’t work out exactly how King Magnar’s sisters had moved the eggs, there was no other way out of Mount Fornax except via the royal carriage. Dipping my head, I placed my hand over my belly and suppressed a groan.
“She’s depressing,” said Fyrian. “If you listen to her, you’d never have the courage to leave the mountain.”
I nodded. It didn’t matter if my theory was right. Standing here arguing wasn’t getting us closer to finding the eggs, and we only had a few hours until sundown. “Thanks.”
Just as Niger and Stafford sprinted out from around the building with a pile of saddles, Rufus and Gobi appeared from its wooden doors. Niger grunted a greeting at his younger brother, and Rufus grunted back.
Evolene released the silencing enchantment, and I ignored the knowing looks everyone except Stafford shot each other.
Rufus held today’s Ogre Gazette. “I heard you are gathering cadets to find the eggs.”
I nodded. “Are you coming?”
“Next time.” His gaze flickered to Gobi, and I gave him an understanding nod. Gobi was too young to take on an adventure like this, and Rufus was kind enough to stay behind so he wouldn’t feel left out. “There is disturbing news in today’s paper.”
“What is it?”
“Riots broke out early this morning across the capital.”
My throat convulsed, but I managed to say, “Thanks. We’ll see what we can do to chase away the rebels.”
We flew west in V formation toward the capital, with me in the front, flanked behind by Stafford and Evolene on the silver dragon and Niger on his yellow. Two members of the drogott team on red dragons took up the rear. Since we had permission to leave, there was no trouble passing the wards.
Outside the Mount Fornax territory, the air dried my nostrils and the back of my throat, and I swigged my canteen of water. Not a single cloud streaked the azure sky, and the only shade provided in the parched earth beneath us came from the dragons.
A gentle breeze blew through my hair, and I sent a silent thanks to Niger and Stafford for choosing saddles with enchantments that buffered the effects of traveling four times the speed of a flying carriage.
After nearly thirty minutes of flying over scrubland, Fyrian spoke into our bond. “There’s something up ahead.”
I squinted into the distance. All I could see were dry shrubs, dusty boulders, and hills so eroded, they looked like carcasses picked dry by vultures. “What is it?”
“I can’t tell from this distance.”
“Did you ask the other dragons?” I asked.
“Greens have the best eyesight of all dragonkind. The others won’
t be able to see it.”
“What does Fulmen smell?”
“Hold on.” She turned to the silver dragon, who tilted his head to the side and flared his nostrils. After a moment, Fyrian spoke. “He said it was locusts.”
“Does that match what you see ahead?”
“Take a look for yourself.” Fyrian opened up her vision.
I blinked. What was brown scrubland now transformed into a kaleidoscope of whites and greens and oranges. Stripes of tiger orange ran across the hills, separated by streaks of bone white. Each became paler as they reached the ground.
“You’re supposed to be looking straight ahead,” muttered Fyrian.
“Oh!” I tore my gaze away from the landscape, stared into the horizon and found what had spooked Fyrian. It was a dome made of what looked like dead leaves. Running underneath it was the Sandbrick Road, and I could only assume I was looking at the capital.
“Whatever’s on the dome is moving,” she said.
“What?” I opened up our bond, pushing my power to Fyrian, so she could fly faster. As we neared the capital, its covering became clearer. It still looked like a mass of dried foliage forming a mound stretching three miles wide.
“Concentrate on the pieces moving from the surface,” she said.
“They’re locusts, aren’t they?” I yanked myself out of her vision. At the rate we flew, I’d soon get a terrible view of whatever was covering the capital.
“I won’t be able to tell for sure until we get within a league of the dome.”
My spirits plummeted, and I slumped into my saddle, cringing at what we could find. Fyrian flew ahead, her mighty wings cleaving the air like blades.
Half a mile away from the dome, a barely audible pitter-patter sounded from its surface, reminding me of tiny raindrops hitting parched earth. As we approached, the sounds were more like the rattling breeze.
“You know what that is?” asked Fyrian.
I clenched my teeth. “Tiny wingbeats?”
The rattling grew into a gut-wrenching, eardrum-shattering whirr that reminded me of rattlesnakes. What I found was much worse: a mass of writhing, brown locusts.
“The Magical Militia must have formed a ward to keep them out.”
Fyrian blew a thin stream of fire over them. The locusts on the surface flew into the air and landed further away. What remained in the patch Fyrian had burned were peanut colored creatures covered in blotches the yellow of beetles’ blood.
High-pitched grinding noises, more hair-raisingly repulsive than nails scraping across a chalkboard, sounded from the locusts underneath. They were monsters with bodies a foot long and wingspans as wide as three feet.
My stomach dropped, and a cold sweat broke out across my brow. Winged creatures were terrifying enough, but these would give me permanent nightmares.
“You were all right with those king hornets last week,” said Fyrian.
“I was in fear of my life!”
“But not too scared to fight back.” Fyrian landed on the courtyard, bringing up a cloud of dust around her paws. “You’re always at your strongest when cornered.”
Patting the hilt of the Parched Sword, I said, “I’m going to need more of that venom.”
Chapter 20
I stared at the writhing, rattling mass of locusts, waiting for the others to catch up. The palm of one hand rested on Fyrian’s warm scales, and the other clutching the Parched Sword grew slippery with sweat. Fyrian had been wrong. This was worse than the hornets that had attacked me the week before. Those had been six inches long, whereas the giant locusts underneath the swarm were twice that size.
“Alba, hornets can sting, but locusts only attack plants. I know which would be scarier if I had your delicate skin.”
“I never said my fear of insects was rational.” Grimacing at the memory of the giant locusts, I asked, “How will we reach the palace and get the dragons’ eggs?”
“Same way we got rid of the locusts at the opening ceremony.”
Before I could explain that five dragons couldn’t kill that giant mass of insects, the wind blew a putrid stench into my nostrils, searing through my sinuses. I slammed the crook of my arm over my mouth and gagged.
“What was that?”
Fyrian blasted smoke through her nostrils, presumably to mask the odor. “Nothing natural!”
Blinking away tears, I squinted at the dome. “I can’t tell if they’re attacking a Magical Militia barrier or if they’ve infested the capital.”
Fyrian let out a rumbling growl of frustration. “There’s some kind of magic underneath that smell of rotting locust carcasses.”
An unearthly long tibia stretched out from beneath the smaller locusts. Thick, needle-like projections covered it on one side, looking like they could saw off a finger. I shuddered and glanced over my shoulder. The others were still a few minutes away.
Breathing hard to stave off a full-blown attack of terror, I asked, “Can Fulmen sniff out what’s beneath the locusts?”
“He says he wants to be sure before saying anything.”
I directed Fyrian away from the dome, and we settled behind a bus shelter carved out of a giant boulder. One of the nearby rocks had a slightly concave surface. “Could I fill up the Parched Sword with your venom, please?”
Fyrian lowered her belly to the ground and spat her menthol-scented venom into the rock. It was my first time of seeing the liquid in open sunlight. Its yellowish-green color and thick consistency reminded me of honey made from the blossoms of sweet limes.
“Thank you.” I climbed out of my saddle and down Fyrian’s foreleg. As soon as my feet hit the hard, dusty ground, I unsheathed the Parched Sword and dipped the tip of its blade into the liquid. After several seconds, the gauge made its slow rise from a halfway position toward the tip.
The thud of two dragons landing behind us caught my attention. It was Stafford and Evolene on the silver dragon, and Niger on the yellow.
Fyrian let out a smoky snort. “Fulmen says he can smell the powerful witch magic underneath the locusts. But there’s a fainter stench of the same kind of foul power that flared last night.”
Warm triumph radiated through my body, and I squeezed the hilt of the Parched Sword. I would have raised it to the skies in vindication. My theory that King Magnar and his fairy artifacts caused the recent spate of calamities had been right. I had to keep the sword steeped in the rock, as I still hadn’t finished filling it with Fyrian’s venom.
“Evolene,” I shouted. “Can you carve a tunnel through the locusts?”
“I’ll try!”
Stafford directed Fulmen to walk along the Sandbrick Road to the edge of the dome. While the other two dragons landed close by, Evolene pointed her staff at the mass of insects. White magic poured out of its crystal tip, making locusts, large and small, fly in all directions. A plate-sized hole opened up, and she shouted some words that created a mesh small enough to stop the locusts from entering the capital.
A foot-long locust spread its body across the hole and fell off. It didn’t even try to flap its wings on the way down to the ground. My eyes widened. She’d created some kind of magical repellent!
The Parched Sword had stopped absorbing Fyrian’s venom, so I climbed up to her back, and we walked over to the other dragon.
Evolene, who sat in front of the much larger Stafford, ducked her head. “I’m sorry. That’s the most I can do with my power.”
“That’s brilliant! I shouted. “If we made the hole bigger, would you be able to expand your mesh?” When she nodded, I spoke into my bond. “Spit your venom around the part Evolene attacked.”
Fyrian edged closer, giving me a prime view of the writhing insects. She took a deep breath and released a spray of her venom, masking the disturbing scent of putrid locust corpses. The locusts she hit became stuck and didn’t fly away. Then she spat enough venom to make a dragon-sized hole.
After giving her a pat on the back and a silent thanks, I turned to everyone else. “On a count
of three, we’ll set the venom alight.”
Nigel and his two friends cheered their agreement.
“One, two, three!”
Every dragon blew fire onto the glistening surface of Fyrian’s venom. Orange flames accelerated around the dome, sending out brown smoke that carried the mingled scent of burning locusts and eucalyptus wood.
Heat, more intense than the midday sun, radiated from the fire, drying out the moisture from my eyes and skin. Those terrible, grinding screeches grew louder, causing me to shudder more violently than I had at the sight of the giant locusts. I ducked behind Fyrian’s neck and closed my eyes, hoping the others would do the same with their dragons.
“Oh, look,” said Fyrian. “Those larger locusts are shriveling up.”
She pushed a vision of the fire spreading across the dome. Quiet crackles and pops accompanied the flames. I tried not to think about their cause and didn’t focus on the burning insects. Around the edges, the flames burned a burgundy so dark, it appeared black. Each movement of the flame caused the outer part to dissipate into smoke. Lighter shades of red—ruby, crimson and rose merged with the oranges making up the inner core of the flame, until the pigment dissolved into yellow, then white, then a transparent inner core.
I pushed away the sight. “Let me know when the fire burns out, so Evolene can create her mesh.”
About a minute later, Fyrian growled. “The locusts from the other side are reforming the dome!”
“No!” I glanced around and caught sight of the silver dragon. It was the same type that had bonded to General Thornicroft, who could create flames as cold as ice. “Tell Fulmen to freeze them.”
“All right!”
In seconds, the air cooled. I peered out from Fyrian’s neck to find the silver dragon blowing frosty, white fire on the locusts swarming around the hole.
The locusts fell to the ground with a patter that sounded like hailstones, but a second swarm hovered out of range as though ready to plug the gap in the dome.
“Evolene, hurry!” I shouted.
Dragon Mage Academy Box Set Page 39
