Dark Hope of the Dragons (Elysium's Fall Book 1)

by Nikki Mccormack

  Amahna’s lip lifted in a silent snarl as she kicked her mount faster to keep up with the daemon-dog who was now loping away from them. “He’s not in the temple, and I will not go there to wait for him.”

  With an angry glower set on her face the other woman focused on spurring her horse viciously to pass Amahna. If she hoped to beat Amahna to their destination it was not to be. She kept her mount up beside the other horse. Someone very skilled was using a great deal of daemon power for something. She needed to know what.

  When she spotted the one rider in the distance, seated atop his bay gelding as still as a statue, she knew this was the man she was seeking. He did not turn his attention towards them until they were stopping beside him.

  “Kyouin, I could not stop her.”

  The man, Kyouin, glanced at them, his gaze drifting over the other woman with insulting disregard before settling on Amahna. He offered an unexpected and friendly smile.

  Amahna tried not to gape. He looked so young. She would be surprised if he was even sixteen yet. Younger than Dephithus had been when she killed him. Kyouin was not overly handsome, but his face was smooth and soft, almost more pretty than anything. His eyes were blue like a warm summer sky under a head of dusty blond hair that was just enough out of place to hint at distraction. He wore a dusty gray cloak and clothes the color of the surrounding desert and his almost childish smile was disarming.

  “Are you an admirer or a critic of my army, my lady?”

  Amahna said nothing, noting the proud way he scanned the surrounding valley. Looking around she pulled on more daenox and saw through his illusion. On both sides of the area in front of them, masked by the illusion he had created, were perhaps forty or more waiting predator daemons of varying sizes and perhaps three times that many foot soldiers. They were plainly prepared to ambush someone.

  Amahna looked at Kyouin again. Could this boy really be the priest raising an army?

  She focused on him for a moment, using daenox to know him on a different level. The amount of daemon power coursing through him was all the answer she needed.

  “I am neither. I have only come to learn what I can about you.”

  Kyouin raised an eyebrow in question, his smile devoid of concern. “For whom?”

  “Someone you had best not make an enemy of. Who are you setting this trap for?”

  Kyouin said nothing. Still smiling, he turned his attention forward. Amahna did the same and was surprised to see an approaching troop that appeared out of a cloud of dust still some distance away from the ambush. They were Imperious Legion by their uniforms, and they were arranging into a defensive formation as they approached, perhaps sensing something in the air. Kyouin appeared undisturbed by their preparation.

  As the riders moved into the area of attack Amahna recognized one of the lead soldiers. Avaline, her face set in grim determination, was flanking the leading officer. For the briefest of moments, she was tempted to call out a warning. Then the urge passed, and she moved her mount closer to Kyouin to get a better view.

  A soldier toward the back of the troop appeared to be breaking down under the stress, the anticipation in the air undoing his resolve. He let out a strangled cry and spun his horse, spurring it to a gallop. Some of the other soldiers around him stopped their mounts and lost their formation in the sudden confusion. The bolting soldier did not get far. Within only a few full strides a twisted daemon burst from the earth under the horse’s chest, throwing both mount and rider over sideways. The horse surged back to its feet, but one leg dangled uselessly as it struggled to get away. The soldier lay still, crushed by the weight of his mount.

  The rest of Kyouin’s mixed army attacked while the Legion troops were watching this horror unfold in their ranks. With the illusion dropped, Amahna saw Avaline focus in on them. Narrowing her eyes, the High Lady of Imperious drew her sword and charged. The action caused a massive change in the forward portion of the Legion troop. The front Legion soldiers turned and followed Avaline, creating a wall of fighters to either side of her as she charged the small daemon army. The daemons and their allied soldiers attacked this stream of warriors, trying to break the line around Avaline. More Legion soldiers moved into position alongside her the instant one fell.

  Avaline did not slow her charge and Amahna began to clutch her reins tighter, ready to spin her mount and bolt. She did not know if Avaline would target her, but with only a few yards left to find out Amahna and the woman from the inn began to back their mounts behind Kyouin. Before she got there, the woman from the inn was taken down with a crossbow bolt in her forehead. Amahna backed her mount further as a daemon-cat took down the last soldier close to Avaline. Kyouin still did not move and his lips curved into an eager smile.

  Avaline brought her sword around in an arc as she closed the space between them. Her blade was well aimed, but her swing was broken by a daemon-dog that lunged into her mount from underneath the priest’s horse. Even Amahna had not known the beast was there. As Avaline’s horse started to fall underneath her, taking her alongside Kyouin, he caught hold of her sword arm, lifting her from the saddle. Using the momentum of her mount’s final forward lunge to his advantage, Kyouin brought her up in front of him and slammed her upper spine down on the horn of his saddle then shoved her back off to the ground. He was stronger than he looked. Perhaps he used daenox to add to his power.

  Avaline landed hard, tumbling a short distance before coming to rest on her back. Amahna moved in closer, spotting the blood welling up between her sister’s lips as Avaline stared dazed at the man who had downed her. Kyouin was no longer smiling. With a pitying shake of his head he turned his mount and left her there. Amahna could see terror in her sister’s eyes when she opened her mouth to speak, but she simply choked on the blood. Avaline closed her eyes then, not once looking at Amahna.

  Amahna, not sure what to do or if she should do anything at all, stared down at her sister. Avaline choked a few more times and then was still. Kyouin seemed to have forgotten her. The massacre that had taken down the Legion troop—for that was all it could be called—was over quickly, and he was done for now.

  Amahna did not want to face him again. This daenox priest was a foolish young upstart, who, though plainly skilled with the daemon power, would probably get himself killed out of arrogance before long. Theruses would be happy enough with that. There was no need to follow him.

  The daemons, most of which were already feeding off their kills, did not disturb Amahna. Nor did the daenox-allied soldiers linger to loot the bodies. She suspected they did not want to fight the daemons for access to the spoils. Some of the soldiers glanced her way as they followed after Kyouin, but they let the daemons judge and left her alone. With one more puzzled frown down at Avaline, Amahna turned back toward home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  When the healing had progressed far enough, Vanuthan pulled them both out of the timeless hibernation and allowed Dephithus to return to a more natural sleep while he finished recovering. He partially woke several times after that but remained in a state of semiconscious delirium while his mind and body tried to cope with the reversal of his death and the suppression of the daemon-seed. High fevers sapped his limited strength as the daemon-seed fought her efforts to put it into a permanent remission.

  For Dephithus, there was little to remember of this time. The only thoughts that stuck with him were disjointed memories of how terribly he had treated Myara. How he had violated her trust and the love he had for her. Often, he lay curled into a fetal position and shivered, moaning with mental and physical agony while tears burned at his tightly closed eyes. At these times some massive presence would wrap its length around him, the warmth bringing with it a brief period of peace and he would slip into a calmer sleep again.

  Dephithus had met death with little grace and he came into his new life with even less. After several weeks of fevers and delirium he finally woke to a strange place and an even stranger companion. The beast looked ever so much like the stone
dragon in the graveyard, only flesh. Her massive form was covered in burnished red scaling and two spiraled horns swept back from the top of her head above her strangely delicate, pointed ears. There was little doubt that her long slender jaw housed the sharp teeth of a killing beast. Her clawed feet ended in large bird-like talons that he had no desire to dally near and her muscular build and large wings warned of her efficiency as a predator.

  Dephithus rose quietly so as not to wake her and started to back away on shaky legs.

  His confusion and weakness made him clumsy, and he fell over her long tail, landing hard on his backside. He was stunned for a moment by a sharp pain through his back and chest. When he recovered from that shock, he discovered that the dragon had raised its head and was now regarding him with shimmering reddish eyes. Reaching for the serpent dagger, he was surprised to find himself unarmed. A faint ache remained in his back and, remembering his very last moment with a start, he looked down at the dark red stains on his clothes.

  “I am Vanuthan, the Mother Dragon. You did not fear me in the graveyard. You need not fear me now. You know I did not cause you this pain you feel.”

  Her deep voice was comforting somehow, but he resisted the unnatural urge to trust her.

  “You were stone then,” he replied as he was struck again with a memory of weakness, of Amahna dodging his clumsy lunge. After that came pain. He remembered so much pain. How could that have been real? Never had he fought so poorly. He remembered also a blood-soaked dagger being dropped in front of his face. He had been reaching out for something. What had he been reaching for? “This seems more nightmare than reality.”

  The dragon waited in patient silence as he pulled off his shirt and studied the scar of the tiny exit wound. Reaching around his back his fingers felt the much larger scar where the dagger had entered. There was a certain detachment to his exploration, as though he studied someone else’s wounds.

  “You were not quite yourself when you fought her,” the dragon reassured.

  “How could I have survived such a wound?”

  Vanuthan regarded him for a long moment with her reddish eyes. Regardless of her apparent lack of aggression toward him, he could not help feeling uncomfortable under her scrutiny. At least she remained lying so that her great size was a little less intimidating. Her expression appeared somewhat sorrowful, though he could not be sure given his distinct lack of experience with dragons.

  “You did not survive, Dephithus. I restored your life to you.”

  He opened his mouth to dispute the possibility of such a thing when more of his memory returned.

  Myara.

  He had been reaching for Myara where she lay, knocked unconscious by Amahna. Memories of all the horrid things he had done washed back through him like a storm driven wave. It was his betrayal of Myara’s love that caused him to cry out with the agony of the truth. He had been so angry. He had hated everyone, even her, even while he loved her. He had been mad with rage and it had hurt so much to fight it. Wrapping his arms around his legs, Dephithus bowed his head to his knees and rocked himself in a vain effort to ease the mental anguish. The dragon made a distressed sound, but he ignored her trying to make sense of the things he had done.

  “I can do nothing for this pain. I am sorry.” The dragon was silent for a few minutes, allowing him some time to struggle with his conscience, but she did not let him dwell for long. “Dephithus, there are things you must know.”

  “Leave me, beast!”

  Vanuthan growled as she rose, looming over him.

  He glared up at her with a bitter sneer. “I can growl too. You don’t impress me.”

  The dragon lowered her head so that her face was in front of his, baring tapered teeth that were as big as his forearm. “You cannot back it up against me. There is no time for self-pity if you are to save your child.”

  Dephithus had a rebuttal ready, but it disintegrated with her words. Almost as if it had happened only a moment ago, he could picture Myara beneath him. Her eyes full of love. Love that had given him the strength to fight the daemon-seed long enough to be with her.

  Terrified of the answer yet needing to know for certain he forced himself to ask. “What child?”

  “Amahna took your life. Then she took Myara and your unborn child. You must go after her. You must save the child. But there are things you need to know before you leave this temple.”

  The misery of his awakening had left Dephithus feeling drained, but this new information rejuvenated him. He was a father. His last act of love before he gave into the madness had created a life. One that he was responsible for. Myara and that child were in danger and there was nothing in the world that was going to keep him from the woman he loved and the life they had created. Despite all the wrong he had done, he had a family waiting for him. He had people to rescue and protect.

  The dragon nodded as if satisfied by something in his expression and laid back down on the carved floor before speaking again.

  “Do you know what the daenox is?”

  He nodded, remembering with a confusing twinge of regret the archive key he had stolen and the daemon cat. “I read about it some in the archives.”

  Vanuthan nodded again. “Back in our days, when both the dragons and the daenox were free, it was the role of the dragons to maintain the balance of nature and keep the daenox from becoming too powerful. Our power was ours alone, though some people were able to tap into it and use it. The daenox could be channeled and used by all humankind if they chose to learn how. Numerous religions developed around worshipping the daenox. But the power of the daenox drove many mad and led to the committing of great atrocities that we were unable to prevent. Other religions gained power, following powerful priests who began to speak lies to their congregations, claiming that the dragons and the daenox were all evil and must be cleansed from the world. Amongst their many sects they began to convince people of this at an alarming rate. Certainly, keeping all of the power and the contributions of their many worshippers to themselves had no influence in all of this dogma.”

  Dephithus smiled faintly at the very human roll of her eyes.

  “Those priests eventually combined their power to imprison the daenox in a cave deep in the Dunues Mountains. The dragons they turned to stone statues. They only discovered after those forces were imprisoned that they had never had any real power of their own. All the powers they had been using had been pulled from the raw power of the daenox and the virile power of the dragons. Their followers decided that if dragons and the daenox were evil because of the powers they had, then so must be the priests who had used those powers. Helpless without the power they relied upon, the priests were run from their temples and put to death. And so, we have waited since then, both the dragons and the daenox, all searching for some escape from our prisons.”

  Vanuthan’s uncertain pause indicated that this was where he came into the story. With a nod of understanding, he encouraged her to continue.

  Returning the nod solemnly she resumed. “The dragons are connected by a web of power, as is shown in this carving on the floor. The power in that web is limited by our imprisonment. Over many years we gathered together what power we could collect and placed it in you when you were conceived. In the years since your birth, using you as our link to freedom, we gathered even more power and placed it in your child when it was conceived.”

  “Conceived in evil,” Dephithus growled. “Will it… will the daemon-seed have an effect on the child?”

  Vanuthan’s massive shoulders lifted in a shrug, but her eyes brimmed over with uncertainty and fear.

  “The dragonkin? Is this how they were created?”

  Vanuthan shook her head. “The Dragonkin came about when a number of the dragons used a power that allows our kind to take on the form of humans. In the night they traveled to different areas and seduced numerous lovers. The children of their brief trysts in this form were the first Dragonkin. From that time on, every twenty years the dragons would do this again a
nd mate with humans to create more Dragonkin and keep the bloodlines strong. When the dragons were turned to stone, the Dragonkin were eventually bred out of society.”

  This was everything he had wanted to learn in the archives before his fascination with the daemons had drawn him astray and more. There was still more he needed to know, more he was reluctant to bring up.

  “Am I to blame for the daenox…” He struggled, trying for the right words and failing.

  Vanuthan shook her head, her eyes blazing to life with pent up rage. “We could not protect you. Your aunt, Amahna, and her companion, Rakas, are allied to the daenox. They placed within you a seed of daemon power that you could never have fought. Just as we used you to pull in more power to secure our freedom, they used the seed in you to free the daenox. You were driven to the evils you committed by that seed.”

  He wanted to feel relieved, but there was no absolution in her words. Whether or not he had been a victim of this daemon-seed, the actions were his own to remember. They were still his fault.

  “Is it gone now? The daemon-seed?” Even as he said the words he knew that it was not. There was something deep inside him. A well of black hatred yearning to break free. “Will it affect my child?”

  The magnificent dragon before him seemed to droop. Even her burnished scales looked suddenly duller.

  “I could not rid you of this daemon-seed. It is part of you now. To rip it free would be to kill you. I did drive it into remission, but I don’t know how long that will last. Nor can I tell you if it had any effect on your child. For all my grand appearance, I’m afraid my powers are limited. I cannot leave this place because the power that allowed me to come here is gone now. It is only the enchantment of this temple that keeps me from turning back to stone. This place is my prison now. You must stop Amahna, for she has taken something of great importance. Your child, the future of my kind, is beyond our help so long as it is held by those who ally with the daenox.”