Dragon School_Dark Night

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Map

  *for a printable version of this map, please visit Sarah’s website www.sarahklwilson.com

  Dragon School: Dark Night

  Dragon School, Volume 10

  Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Published by Sarah K. L. Wilson, 2018.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  DRAGON SCHOOL: DARK NIGHT

  First edition. April 19, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Sarah K. L. Wilson.

  Written by Sarah K. L. Wilson.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Behind the Scenes:

  For Mom, with love.

  Chapter One

  Boom. Boom. Boom.

  I leapt at the sound of pounding on the rock wall behind me – it was more of a massive vibration than a sound. More of the feeling of a small earthquake than fists on a door – though that was what was causing it. Behind me – just behind the rock wall – dozens of Ifrits were pounding. If they found a single crack, they would slide in and rip us to pieces. I bit my lip and told my mind to calm itself, but my heart raced all on its own.

  That’s right, Raolcan reminded me. Deep, easy breaths. Don’t let it take your clear thought. We will not die here.

  How could he be so certain?

  Dragon princes don’t die in holes like rats.

  Then where did they die? And could we avoid going there?

  “Amel,” Savette whispered urgently.

  I followed her gaze to where everyone else in the room was kneeling and then hurriedly scrambled off of Raolcan to join them.

  “Get up,” a man beside the litter said. He was burly and encased in a shining metal breastplate and greaves, his dragon helm obscuring his face. “The Dominar – glory to his reign – is not conscious. He was gravely injured in our flight. I am Lieutenant Iskaris of the Dominar’s Dragoons and I require your aid.”

  Fear like ice shot through me, chilling me to the core. This was Iskaris? The man that the Dusk Covenant was sending messages to? We must keep anything important from him.

  Be careful with those messages you have. You haven’t given them to the Top Rider, have you?

  Why would I do that?

  You’ll have to wait until the Dominar is conscious and give them to him yourself, if you can. Or to Hubric if he comes around first.

  I swallowed. It wouldn’t be hard to keep them hidden, but the Dominar was missing a limb and his pallet was soaked with blood. Would he survive this?

  “Amel Leafbrought,” Ashana Willowspring said. “Lead the Dominar’s dragoons to the area we set apart for Hubric. We can attend to the injured there, including the Dominar. I’ll see to the defense of this entrance, Lieutenant.”

  “Actually,” Iskaris said, overriding her. “I think real warriors should see to the defense. Tredwell, Curnan, see to it.”

  Two men saluted, moving tiredly toward the door, as if men in armor could do what dragons could not. Ashana stood to one side of the door to the great hall, one hand on her hip and a single eyebrow raised in a way that made me squirm even though it was directed at the Lieutenant.

  Anyone who ignores the Top Rider is playing with fire.

  Anyone who was dealing with the Dusk Covenant was playing with a lot worse things than fire. The Lieutenant was in league with the demons outside our door, whether anyone else realized that or not. With a grimace, I hobbled forward to lead him within our defenses. It felt wrong – like drinking poison on purpose.

  When dragons drink poison, it burns up within us just like disease. It can’t survive our fiery bellies.

  Handy. Too bad I wasn’t a dragon.

  Be that fiery belly. Bring him in, then burn him up.

  I clenched my jaw, determined to do just that if I saw the opportunity.

  “This way,” I murmured, gesturing for them to follow me through the door. The Dragoons already had the Dominar’s litter unhooked from the Silver dragons and were shuffling forward with it. No one had told us about Silver Dragons in our Dragon School training.

  No Silvers are given as Dragon School tribute. They are dedicated to the Dominar as a part of our treaty with Haz. The riders of the Silvers come from the ranks of the Dragoons and are powerful, dignified warriors.

  It was surprising that Raolcan wasn’t Silver then.

  Are you suggesting that Silver is better than Purple?

  Never.

  Good. I don’t need flashy scales to show my majesty. Which is good, because right now these two need help. They suffered grievous injuries as they fled and cannot fly.

  “Were you hurt in the battle?” Iskaris asked, eyeing my bad leg as I led him through the Great Hall toward the room we were tending to Hubric in. Iskaris’ eyes narrowed when he saw the refugees within and a second stab of ice went through me. I could sense his coldness toward them. Was I the only person here who thought life was important?

  Don’t be dramatic. There’s Savette and Hubric and the Dominar, and I don’t think that Ashana is nearly as cold as you have judged her to be. She won’t leave them now that Ifrits are banging down the door.

  We’d see about that.

  “I’m a cripple,” I said easily. Of all the threats that Iskaris posed, the threat to my dignity was the smallest. I led them within Hubric’s room. “There’s a bed here.”

  I watched as the lieutenant looked around the room and sniffed. “It will do. Clear this other man out of here.”

  “He’s still recovering from an arrow wound and fever,” I said, defensively.

  “We’ll keep this room clear for the Dominar,” the lieutenant said. “Only those trusted by me may enter.”

  His dominant personality and thick muscles made me feel small and insignificant, but someone had to speak for the injured, and I was the only one here to do it.

  “Hubric needs rest and a place to recover. So do the Dominar and your wounded men. It will be easier to tend them all in one place.”

  His glare made me want to take a step back, but I took a deep breath instead and kept my feet where they were.

  “Did you tend that man’s wounds?” he asked as two of the Dragoons laid the Dominar on the bed Savette had slept in the night before.

  I had to swallow to make my mouth wet enough to speak. “Yes.”

  “Then tend to the Dominar, Dragon Rider. The next time I give an order and you speak back, you can learn what it is to feel my boot on your neck.”

  I nodded, fear making my mouth dry again and my palms sweaty, but I’d kept Hubric safe for a while longer and maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to help both my mentor and my ruler recover.

  Chapter Two

  I was afraid to touch the Dominar. Were there rules about how to touch the ultimate authority of your land?

  If I had to guess, I’d say the biggest rule is to keep him from dying.

  Nervously, I unwound the cloak that draped his form. It stuck to the drying blood on the pallet underneath him an
d I had to rip it in places to detangle it. Someone had made the pallet by stretching tent cloth over two poles. When the dragoons set it down they had just laid the entire contraption on the narrow bed.

  Behind me, I heard two of the dragoons tending a stab wound in a third man’s leg, but I had to concentrate on this. It felt strange that they weren’t doing it themselves. After all, did I look like a healer?

  They’re rattled and Iskaris is warring within. The Ifrits aren’t behaving as he expected. He has ordered his men to tend their own wounds while you see to the Dominar. I can’t tell if he wants you to fail or succeed in keeping him alive. I’m not sure that he knows either. Personally, I’d like the Dominar to live.

  That made two of us. I gently unbuckled the clasps of the thick leather clothing on his torso, examining him for wounds. So far, his arm was the only severe wound. The sight of the blood-soaked bandaged stump where his arm had been made my mouth feel dry. I tried not to look as I checked for any other bleeding. I had to strip him down to his underclothes to look, but the rest of his body was fine – bruised and discolored, but not stabbed or shot with arrows. I replaced what clothing I could, spread a sheet over him, and gingerly lifted his crown to check his head for wounds.

  “Don’t,” a voice said from behind me. Ashana was there, looking furtively around her. “Removing his crown is a death sentence. Look at the pallet. The blood isn’t coming from his head.”

  “It can’t be comfortable to lay with your head in a metal mask,” I said. I followed her gaze to the dragoons behind her. They were talking in a close huddle as they stitched and bandaged wounds.

  “I’ll help you with the arm,” she said in a tight voice. Her eyes were sharp and careful, but her tension wasn’t directed at me.

  “I’m sorry about Rawlins and Danver,” I said as we unwrapped the bandage around his stump of an arm.

  “So am I. We were friends for many years. They both were a great help to me in managing Color affairs and I will miss them every day now that they are gone.” Her voice was sad, but firm, like she was both mourning and persevering all at once.

  I enjoy her strength. A truly strong mind is rare in humans.

  “Feed the fire. Then go to the storeroom and find us a small metal pot and some tar,” she said, her voice clipped and tight. She was looking at the wound with a deep furrow in her brow.

  I swallowed hard and moved to obey. It was good to have orders to follow.

  “And Amel?” she said right before I left.

  “Yes?”

  “You did well out there. You are one of us now.” She pulled one of her scarves off her arm and tossed it to me. “Wear our color with pride.”

  “Thank you.”

  The look in her eye made me feel a foot taller. I held the scarf reverently as I turned to leave the room, my face hot with pleasure. She’d given me her own scarf to wear.

  It’s traditionally given by your mentor. I suppose with Hubric ill it makes sense that she’d give you hers.

  The scarf was a damask silk, embroidered with swirls and dragon claws. I tied it around my neck, just under my leather collar, as I walked. There would be more purple scarves, but none so precious as my first. I wanted to keep it where it was easily seen by anyone passing. It was the exact color of Raolcan’s scales.

  Wear your purple with pride. I certainly do.

  I hobbled through the Great Hall, noticing that the refugees had cleared out of the hall, except for one older man who sat near the large fire but also near the door to their sleeping quarters. He was leaning back in a chair as if he were asleep, but his eyes glittered as he followed my movements, so I wasn’t fooled. He was watching over his people. In the middle of the Great Hall, Iskaris spread out maps, his healthy warriors – ten of them – arranged around him. I hurried past them to the storeroom, keeping my eyes to myself. It would do me no good to draw more of his attention.

  When I reached the storeroom, I closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. Iskaris was pure trouble. He was a traitor. And we were walled up in here with him. What were we going to do?

  “Is that you, Amel?” Savette whispered from the shadows.

  “What are you doing in here?” I whispered back.

  “I can feel them, Amel. The Ifrits. They are going to find a way in.”

  Chapter Three

  “Soon?” I asked, my whisper strained.

  “I don’t know, but soon enough. I need a way to find more strength. It was all I could do to hold those few back before they drove us into this place and now their numbers grow by the second.”

  I swallowed, feeling lightheaded for a moment. Their numbers grew?

  “Do you think some of these herbs might help you?” I asked, stepping behind some shelves as I scanned for a pot and tar. The pot was easy enough, but where would people put tar, and why had Ashana asked for it in the first place?

  “I don’t know. I just didn’t know what else to do. I don’t like the way that Iskaris is looking at me.”

  I clenched my teeth. That sounded even more ominous. Didn’t he realize that she was our only defense if the Ifrits broke in? What we needed was more information. That and a way out.

  “Do you think he knows that you know the truth about him?”

  “No. I would be able to tell if he did.” She shook her head, following me as I searched for tar. It wasn’t with the herbs or the kitchen supplies. I moved to the back wall where the stone was rough like they hadn’t finished carving out the storeroom. Had they planned to expand it someday? There was a rack of tools along that wall.

  “Then how is he looking at you?”

  “Like he’s worried. I think that somehow... No. That’s crazy.”

  “What’s crazy?” I stopped by a rack of hand tools and Savette leaned in close so that her lips were only a hair’s width from my ear.

  “I think he’s working with the Ifrits.”

  Ice shot through me, lingering afterward in a way that made my skin feel too tight. When she said it like that, it seemed obvious. After all, the Dusk Covenant had some sort of deal with the Ifrits, and Iskaris was definitely Dusk Covenant.

  If there was ever a time that we needed more information, it was now. And where could we find information other than those messages I’d been given?

  I pulled them out of my waistband and furtively slipped the first message out of my waistband. Savette nodded beside me.

  “If there’s anything else in there that could help, we need to know. Things have changed. What were you looking for back here?”

  “Tar.”

  “I’ll find it while you read. There’s something about this storeroom. I keep feeling like I need to be here.” She began to search the shelves while I skimmed one message after another. I’d read most of them before, but it felt necessary to re-read them in case there was something I’d missed before. Supply lists. News from Dominion City that seemed to have little importance. The last note I read was the only one that seemed significant.

  Comard Eaglespring to the Dominar:

  Glory to the Dominar,

  I will lead your armies out, heading north at first light to assist in recovering your person and defending the north from threat of engagement. We will take the path of Haz in our advancement and suggest you meet us at the Maiden’s Head if possible. I have left the city under the defensive guard of General Honorspur and Grandis Elfar of Dragon School who has brought to us the Chosen One of Legend. Perhaps this will finally placate Haz’drazen. Once again, she sent an emissary protesting our handling of Baojang and making demands regarding our disposition of resources. I remain concerned about the rumors reaching my ears of a traitor among your guard. I must reiterate the need for care in telling friend from foe and must remind you that if you are required to take a darker path you should remember the words of Ibrenicus.

  In faith,

  Comard Eaglespring

  What in the world was that last part about?

  “Tar,” Savette said, handing me a s
mall pot of tar. I jumped at her words, hurriedly stuffing the note back into my belt.

  “Anything interesting?” she asked, but she seemed to already know.

  “One thing, but I don’t know what it is. I’d better hurry back with the tar. Are you safe here?”

  “I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “I’m not seeing anything that will give me the energy I need.”

  “Go see Raolcan. Sometimes he has good ideas.”

  Sometimes? That’s harsh.

  She nodded and we slipped out of the storeroom, splitting up to head to our goals. As I hurried past the table of dragoons a hand wrenched my elbow, pulling me off balance. I fell, barely catching myself, the pot and tar clattering to the floor.

  “I barely even touched you and you drop everything?” an annoyed voice asked.

  “I walk with a crutch,” I said, pulling myself back to my feet. I’d bruised my good knee. It throbbed under my leather pants.

  Iskaris snorted. Of course, it would be him grabbing my arm. What did he want, and would he see in my eyes that I distrusted him? Would he realize why?

  I avoided eye contact, using the excuse of recovering the tar and pot.

  “What do you have there?” he asked.

  “Supplies for the Dominar’s wound.”

  “Did you or your master have any messages when you arrived here?”

  I hadn’t expected that. What did I say?

  It would be unlikely that neither of you had messages.

  “Yes,” I said, trying to cover the flood of heat to my face by adjusting my load of tar and pot.

  “You can deliver them to me,” Iskaris said. “It’s important that we have all the information available to plan our next move.”

  If I did that he’d know. I clenched my jaw. How did I tell him know without drawing suspicion?

  “I’ll check to see if there are any for you after I finish helping with the Dominar’s wounds.”

  Nice.