Legends of the Lurker Box Set

by Richard H. Stephens

  Stunned, Reecah’s mind went immediately to Devius and Nelly. “When?”

  “What? The raid? Several days ago, at least.”

  Though her flying skills had improved drastically, she found herself having to hang onto Lurker’s neck. The vision of black smoke coming from the area of South Fort on their trip to Arcanium came back to her.

  She tried to make sense of everything that had happened recently. Reports of the king’s army marching on Draak Home. The prince in Arcanium. And now, a raid on the king’s seat. A lot of the timing didn’t seem right. If Sea Keep had been attacked, where had the army come from?

  The fact that the dragons had responded could only mean one thing. “Have you seen any more people like us? A dwarf and an elf?”

  “They arrived after the raid.”

  “After? Then the queen already knew of Draakclaw and Draakval?”

  “We told her. Well, Crystalclaw did, but the wyverns brought the last of the Draakval dragons here.”

  Reecah’s head was spinning trying to keep everything straight. If the dragons had attacked, why had they not followed up? The king’s army marched on them as they spoke. “Was the raid not successful?”

  “Very. I was in it. We lost a lot of flyers, but we left the bay area in flames.”

  That might explain why there hadn’t been a second attack. Losing a lot of dragons didn’t bode well.

  Reecah wondered how much damage fire would actually do to the castles at South Fort and Sea Keep. The surrounding cities would have suffered, and probably many of the castle outbuildings. Recalling her days with Anvil in the clearing between the South Fort stables, she could only imagine the damage dragon fire had inflicted on the many stables lining the castle’s bailey walls.

  Raver squawked twice more.

  Lurker searched the ridgeline below. “Another wyvern coming in.”

  “That’s my sister, Cricket.”

  “I recognize her.”

  Reecah found what they were looking at. Another brown wyvern who looked exactly like Flea. Watching the second wyvern approach, she thought again of the reason they had come in search of the dragon queen. “Are you aware of an army coming this way?”

  Alarm showed in Flea’s green eyes. “That’s why we’re out here, but so far it’s been quiet.”

  “The prince advances through the marsh.”

  “The swamp?”

  “How far out do your patrols fly?”

  The arrival of Flea’s sister interrupted their conversation.

  A new female voice sounded in Reecah’s head. “Hey. I know you. Well, three of you.”

  “Everyone. Meet Cricket.” Before anyone had a chance to say anything, Flea asked his sister, “Do you know if Fly has come back?”

  “Not that I know of. She said she was going to take a pass over the marsh. Seems like a waste of energy if you ask me. Why?”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. I need you to take our new friends to Draak Home. The queen awaits their arrival.”

  Cricket’s light brown eyes stared at Reecah, comprehension settling in, but she directed her words at Flea, “Why, where are you going?”

  “To save Fly.”

  Flea flew as fast as his wings would carry him. With the sun in his eyes, he rose high into the air to get a better view of the bluish-green swampland, but couldn’t see anything bigger than a buzzard.

  Thinking back on his decision to leave his sister alone, he began to doubt himself. What if the newcomers weren’t who they appeared to be? The more he thought about it, the more it troubled him. Those were the same dragons that had visited Draakval shortly before it had been destroyed. What if they acted on the king’s behalf? He shook his head to try to rid him of his wild thoughts. Fear was taking over his thinking, filling his head with all kinds of crazy notions. He gritted his teeth. First, he had to find Butterfly Soul.

  Bogs and reeds drifted by with no end in sight, providing him little relief from the anxiety that threatened to cripple his mind. He kept going back to the woman in grey astride the green dragon. The one they called the Windwalker. She didn’t look different than any other human he’d seen. Sure, she carried a wide assortment of weapons, but she was only one person. When the king’s army came, she wouldn’t pose much of a threat. If it were up to him, he would lead the dragons far away. Find a land where the high king couldn’t reach them anymore.

  At one point, he thought he had spotted the king’s army moving along the border of the Wilds, but as he got closer, he realized that it was nothing more than a caravan of wagons and lightly armoured humans. What they were doing out here was a mystery. Not being from the Wilds, he assumed they belonged here. He kept on flying, careful to remain out of bowshot as they disappeared behind him.

  Ahead, something about the lush swampland didn’t look right. It was as if a giant had rolled a hill-sized boulder through the marsh, trampling everything in its path. The trail carried on south and out of sight.

  The Windwalker’s words resonated in his head. J’kwaad’s troops trekked through the swamp. A bad feeling washed over him.

  Banking on the wind to follow the trail, he pushed himself harder. Butterfly Soul would be following the trail, he was sure of it. The heat of adrenaline fired his anger. Puffs of smoke escaped his nostrils with each exhalation. He knew her too well. She wouldn’t hesitate in attacking the king’s men. He also knew, that would mean a quick death.

  Not if I can help it.

  No matter how fast he flew, he feared it wasn’t fast enough.

  The trampled path opened into a wide area before continuing south. He assumed he had found a recent campsite, but another path spurred off westward, confusing him. Assuming the army had camped there, he dropped in for a better look and discovered he was mistaken. Countless bodies of man and horse littered the area—many, half submerged and bloated. A large battle had been fought here, leaving behind fetid corpses. Gagging, he searched the area until he found a good place to land.

  He recognized the dark uniforms worn by the king’s men from the attack on King’s Bay. Mixed in with the king’s soldiers were surcoats emblazoned with several other houses—the majority draped in vermillion. He didn’t know where the opposing soldiers hailed from, but by the looks of the immediate surroundings they had been thoroughly routed.

  Many of the vermillion knights showed signs of being burnt, but he had no way of knowing if the damage was a result of wyvern fire.

  Jumping into the air, he gazed down the westward path. It stretched across the marsh toward the border of Zephyr on the horizon. If the army had gone that way, they were long gone. He hovered over the battlefield and followed the south path. A flash of fire in the distance caught his attention. A black speck rose into the sky briefly before wheeling around and dropping again. Another spurt of fire shot into the swamp. Fly!

  Angling away from the path, flying deeper into the eternal quagmire, the unmistakable form of the pretty little wyvern was hard to miss. Her lithe body wrapped tightly within her folded wings as she dove time and again at a group of riders.

  Several men draped in vermillion, matching the surcoats of their mounts, were surrounded by darker clad knights in the livery of the king. Drawing closer, many of the king’s men fought to contain their quarry while the rest launched volleys of arrows at Fly’s darting form.

  Flea fell upon the king’s men, dispensing a torrent of flames across their exposed backs. Horses reared and men screamed, unable to rid themselves of the killing fire.

  Those penning in the vermillion knights turned to meet the new threat and were quickly set upon by the men and women they were containing.

  A large, black skinned man led the charge; his battle cry picked up by his colleagues as they broke free of their containment.

  Flea was surprised that once the vermillion knights had escaped, they wheeled their mounts around and struck out for the Wilds.

  “Fly, what are you doing?”

  Butterfly Soul winged after the king�
�s men who were giving chase to the fleeing knights. “Saving what’s left of the dragon duke’s army.”

  Surveying the few dozen knights in question, Flea winced. If that was the extent of the help the realm of man was prepared to offer, Draak Home was in desperate straits. Following on her tail, he prepared another bout of fire and dove into the fray, ignoring the painful arrows striking him as he fell from the sky.

  Flight of the Queen

  Golden, massive and foreboding; a leviathan rose up to meet them as Reecah and her companions heeded Raver’s warning. Just as she had begun to doubt they would ever find Draak Home, she counted no less than eight dragons winging out of a deep canyon; her attention commanded by a colossal, golden dragon at the head of a structured vee formation.

  Perhaps what surprised her more than the sudden appearance of the unknown dragons was the puff of smoke that escaped Lurker’s nostrils. “Have you developed your fire?”

  Lurker’s mouth opened. He attempted to spit something but a great cough wracked his body, accompanied by small spurts of flame.

  “You have! Congratulations, buddy.” She lifted her gaze to consider what approached. “Perhaps now isn’t the best time to try it out.”

  The closest thing to a smile crossed Swoop’s face. “Lurky. You’re on fire.”

  Instead of responding, Lurker slowed his flight, splitting away from Swoop.

  The golden dragon followed.

  “Keep your distance, Swoop. Let me handle this.”

  Reecah debated conjuring a fireball but thought better of it. What good would a fist-sized fireball do to an adult dragon? If anything, a show of hostility would only make matters worse.

  The golden dragon’s bright red eyes bore into her, filling her with an uncanny sensation of being magically probed. Before she had a chance to examine the possibility, a deep voice grated in her head. “You are the Windwalker the elf speaks of.”

  Reecah swallowed her discomfort. Not are you, but you are.

  “Who are you?” Lurker answered for her.

  “Queen Askara’s guardian. I’m known in our tongue as…” The guttural sound grinding in Reecah’s head sounded like gibberish. “Humankind knows me as Lightburn. The queen is expecting you.”

  Without another word, Lightburn soared overhead, arcing upside down until he faced the southeast and righted himself. In perfect unison, those following copied his manoeuvre; none as gracefully as Lightburn.

  Lurker, forever in tune with Reecah, must have sensed her hesitation. “Are you ready for this?”

  She appreciated the concern. “Yes, my friend. I’m nervous, but that’s to be expected when one is about to face the queen of dragons.”

  Lurker’s wings tilted slightly. Powered by mighty wing flaps that rocked Reecah back and forth, he gained on Lightburn’s formation and followed them into the early morning sunshine.

  With the sun beating down directly overhead, the sight of Draakvuur valley was nothing short of a jaw-dropping. Not as wide as Dragonfang Pass, it held a grandeur of its own. Reecah wished they had time to inspect the wondrous towers carved out of stone on each side of the valley but Lurker and Swoop kept close to the end of Lightburn’s vee formation.

  Flying in an organized pattern filled her with an unusual sense of importance. Riding proudly on the back of the greatest thing that ever happened to her, she held her head high as they rounded the midsection of the tallest tower of the Draak Home complex and ascended its backside to a wide platform near its summit. The escorting dragons peeled off to allow them room on the ledge beside Lightburn.

  It took a conscious effort to breathe—her eyes darting from balcony to alcove. Dragons of all descriptions and colour stared at her. As impressive as their appearance was, nothing had prepared her for the regal delegation awaiting their arrival. With the exception of Grimclaw, dragons larger than any she had witnessed at Dragon Home sat majestically around a white dragon whose beauty separated her from the rest.

  Reecah’s face lit up. On either side of Queen Askara stood Tamra and Aramyss; their faces a sight for her weary eyes.

  Lightburn bowed his head. “My queen. I present to you the Windwalker.”

  Lurker dropped to his chest allowing Reecah to dismount. Hitting the ground, she dropped to a knee amidst a clatter of weaponry strapped across her back, and bowed her head.

  Junior imitated Reecah’s movements, sliding from Swoop and taking a knee, shoulder to shoulder with her.

  “Reecah Draakvriend Windwalker, arise,” a sweet voice sung in Reecah’s mind.

  Reecah looked at Junior, but his eyes were riveted on the ground before him. Swallowing her nervousness, she stood and met the queen’s ice blue gaze.

  “Come forward.”

  Not sure what to expect, Reecah glanced at Tamra for help but the elf’s stern look was unreadable. On the far side of Queen Askara’s bulk, Aramyss beamed back at her. He winked and nodded for her to do as she was bidden.

  Keeping her eyes low, Reecah approached the queen; stopping well short and taking a knee.

  “Come closer. I wish to feel you.”

  Eyes wide, Reecah had a fleeting notion to run away but there was nowhere to run to.

  Aramyss raised his bushy eyebrows and dipped his head, urging her forward.

  Stopping as close to the queen as she dared, Reecah took a knee; her eyes on the platform. Out of the corner of her eye she noted that the queen’s front claws were longer than her own legs.

  Balanced on a set of powerful forelegs, Queen Askara’s broad chest hid most of her exquisite dragon’s head—all except the end of her fanged jaw.

  Queen Askara lifted her front foot and lowered her claws over Reecah’s head, their tips scraping the granite ledge as they trapped her within.

  Closing her eyes tight, Reecah prepared for the worst.

  A slight tingling took root deep within Reecah’s mind. Powerless to stop the queen’s magical examination, Reecah willed herself to remain strong. If the Draakvuur dragons wished her harm, they would likely have done so by now.

  Allowing the queen’s magic to wash through her, Devius’ words echoed in her mind, “Doubt plays havoc within you. Until you learn to trust yourself, you will never realize your true potential. You’re more powerful than you know. Trust yourself, and the world will learn to fear you.”

  Queen Askara’s soft voice intruded on her thoughts, “You are indeed a Windwalker. Through you, we may yet survive.”

  Opening her eyes, Reecah was startled to discover the queen had removed her foot and now stood back so that she could meet Reecah’s gaze.

  “Arise Reecah Draakvriend Windwalker. From this day forward, never shall you kneel in another’s presence. You are all that is left of a once great tribe. The world owes its allegiance to what you represent.”

  Reecah rose to her feet. Throwing her shoulders back, she met the queen’s gaze. “My queen. I shall forever kneel in your presence. Out of respect for the title you bear and out of appreciation for the dragons you protect. It is my honour to serve you. I only hope that when the time comes, I prove worthy of your trust.”

  “This pleases me,” the queen declared.

  A raucous trumpeting of shrieking dragons reverberated off the tower walls—the platform trembling underneath their feet as the colony voiced its approval.

  Lightburn raised his wings. The noise ceased as quickly as it had started.

  “I fear the time to prove yourself is nigh,” Queen Askara sung. “But I believe we have a little time remaining to us. It is my duty to enlighten you about your dragon magic.”

  The queen of dragons lowered herself to the platform. “Climb on.”

  A collective gasp sounded around the platform and beyond.

  “My queen!” Lightburn reared onto his hind legs. “Allow me to transport the Windwalker.”

  “You will remain behind until the time comes that you must fetch me.”

  Clearly unhappy, Lightburn bowed his head. “Yes, my queen.”

 
Reecah searched the faces of Lurker and Swoop. She thought she detected a hint of pride in the way Lurker watched her.

  Aramyss smiled wide, his crooked, yellowed teeth visible amongst his bearded face.

  Tamra nodded her head and held out a hand for Reecah to do as the queen commanded.

  Tentatively placing a foot on the queen’s foreleg, the queen’s voice startled her. “Fear not, dragon friend. You cannot hurt me. I have lived nigh on a millennia. I assure you that I have endured much worse than the dusty boots of a human female.”

  Reecah emitted a nervous chuckle and vaulted onto the queen’s shoulder, scrambling to scale up to the spot behind her neck. If not for the numerous times she had mounted Lurker, she doubted she would have made the climb without mishap.

  The queen’s spinal ridge was more developed than Lurker’s. It took Reecah a moment to settle between the last prominent protrusion and the queen’s neck.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, my queen. Let’s do this.”

  With nary a jolt, they were airborne—the old dragon’s flight incredibly smoother than Lurker’s. If she closed her eyes, Reecah could barely register that they were in the air, rising quickly over Draak Home.

  A chorus of dragon shrieks followed them across the sky.

  Looking back, she thought she spotted Scarletclaws and Silence in the wide courtyard between the towers.

  The wind blowing through her unbraided hair, Reecah breathed deeply, enjoying the exhilaration of flying a dragon. Not just any dragon. She flew the skies on the back of the greatest living dragon of them all. A sad smile lifted her cheeks. She could only imagine what it would have been like to have flown Grimclaw.

  Goosebumps riddled her skin.

  Setting her jaw, she silently vowed not to let the same tragedy befall Queen Askara.

  Her Grandparent’s Love

  Breathtakingly beautiful was the only way Reecah could describe the oasis Queen Askara had landed within. A small pocket of lushness nestled between several high peaks; each hill dominated by a majestic waterfall. Tumbling rivers emerged from the mist shrouded bases of the cataracts. Escorted by billowing weeping willows, the rivers converged on a central pool of turquois water. A thick grove of sentinel elms stood watch on the grounds around the catch basin, their branches home to a kaleidoscope of songbirds.