The Alliance Boxset 2

by S. E. Smith

  “Yes, Sea King, I have no desire to continue the battle – especially one that fuels the dark magic of the Sea Witch. There has been enough death and destruction. I accept your truce, Sea King, but be warned – the Sea Witch will pay for her treachery if our paths ever cross,” Drago said, tilting his wings so the winds could lift him higher.

  “I understand. Go in peace, Dragon King,” Orion replied.

  Drago watched Orion pull on the reins of his sea dragon. The beast eagerly turned and dipped its head. Within seconds, all that was visible was the turbulent sea. Lightning flashed, cutting across the sky, followed by the rolling sound of thunder.

  Turning, Drago thought about what Orion had said – a truce, the end of the Great Battle. Peace had finally come to the Seven Kingdoms again, but not before there had been great suffering caused by one woman’s greed for power. Rage burned deep inside Drago. He had meant what he’d said to Orion – he would show no mercy to the Sea Witch.

  As king of the Isle of the Dragon and ruler over all dragons, it was his duty to keep his people safe. When the Sea Witch had washed up on the shores of the Isle of the Dragon, he had believed her lies. Her body had been shrunken and pale. She had sworn to him that her cousin had gone mad. Her claims that Orion wanted to steal the dragon’s hoard of treasure to finance his bid to take over the Isle of the Dragons had sounded foolish until raiders from the sea were captured. They had all said the same thing.

  Next, had come the attacks against the dragons flying to other kingdoms. Many had disappeared, having fallen to their deaths into the deep abyss beneath the ocean that separated each kingdom, including his own parents. The Sea Witch, Magna, had whispered into Drago’s ear that it wouldn’t have happened if only he had the stones of the Trident. If he did, then not only would he control those beneath the waves, he would also have a treasure of unimaginable power.

  Drago understood the dangers of controlling an artifact that was not from his realm – to do so could tear the delicate threads of magic holding the Seven Kingdoms together. There was a reason why dragons could not control the trident, just as there was a reason that the people of the sea could not steal the Dragon’s Heart. The sacred stones controlled the very essence of each species – water and fire. Each kingdom had an ancient artifact.

  His father had groomed him to always take into consideration the far-reaching consequences of his decisions. What good was it to have such a powerful treasure if the world no longer existed? Magna’s quiet whispers finally became too much and he had threatened to drop her back into the sea and let Orion deal with her if she did not stop. She had disappeared the next day.

  With a loud sigh, Drago soared along the water as fast as his wings could carry him. His body rose and fell with the building waves. Storm clouds swirled high above, and the rumble of thunder and the static feel of the electricity building in the atmosphere warned of the severe gale about to strike.

  Drago and his guards had been conducting one last patrol of the waters surrounding the island before the storm hit when he had seen Orion. A quick scan of the sky warned him that the squall was likely to turn into a full-fledged cyclone. As if to confirm his thoughts, icy spears of driving rain began to fall in thick, blinding sheets.

  Drago was several kilometers away when he heard the first cry for help from his people. Confusion swept through him when more and more cries of terror rang out. Fighting against the savage winds, an uncharacteristic fear drove him onward, pushing him at a reckless pace to reach his home. The fear wasn’t for himself, but for his people.

  The anguished cries of his people resonated inside his head. His confusion grew when the sounds of their piercing screams suddenly began to fade.

  Drago’s blood boiled inside him. He snapped his tail like a whip, shattering the sound barrier with its speed, and the crack echoed through the air like lightning. He had been betrayed – but, not by Orion. Something else was attacking his people – something alien to their world.

  The cries of the other dragons pierced his soul, making his struggle to reach them seem painfully ineffective. As each voice grew silent, a sense of panic began to wash over him. When there was nothing but a black void where his connection to the other dragons had once been, the panic engulfed him completely.

  “No!” Drago roared out, spying the Isle of the Dragon through the rain.

  In the distance, he could see a figure on the rocky cliff turning to look at him in triumph – the Sea Witch! Her black hair swirled around her pale form. Dark threads of sorcery radiated outward from her fingers. Drago saw Theron and two other members of his elite guard flying toward her. The dark threads pierced them. Drago watched in disbelief as their bodies stiffened, turning to stone. As if in slow motion, each dragon fell from the sky. Two of the dragons tumbled into the sea and disappeared beneath the waves. Theron’s form crashed to the ground, tumbling over before coming to a standstill – the fire from his dragon frozen for eternity just centimeters from the Sea Witch.

  “They are gone, Drago. You are all alone. Give me the Dragon’s Heart and I will give you back your weak, pathetic people,” the Sea Witch whispered, her words carried to him on the wind by magic.

  “Never! Die, Witch!” Drago roared.

  “I will have it when you are gone. A dragon cannot survive alone for long. Not even your precious treasure will keep you alive,” she retorted with a mocking smile.

  Infuriated, Drago released a powerful ball of white dragon fire. The Sea Witch’s mad laughter rose above the sound of the storm as she dove from the cliff into the waves below, disappearing into the dark depths surrounding the island. The dragon fire exploded against the cliff, sending an avalanche of super-heated rock into the sea below and scorching Theron’s frozen form.

  Drago scanned the edges of the cliffs. The still figures of his people stared back at him. Their faces forever etched in expressions of horror. All Drago could see was his failure to protect them.

  He glided over the edge of the cliff. His powerful wings folded and he dropped down next to Theron and shifted to his two-legged form. He raised a trembling hand to touch his friend and comrade. Grief unlike anything he had ever known surged through him, encasing his heart as if in the same stone that had transformed his people. Tilting his head back, Drago released a roar of rage that spread across the Seven Kingdoms. Each ruler sensed the void and knew that while the Great Battle between them was over, a far deadlier war was about to begin. Fear reached out, wrapping its greedy hands around the hearts and souls of the other inhabitants, then the world stilled when the sound of Drago’s roar faded to a deafening silence.

  Several days later, Drago stepped back to survey his work. He had all of his people that he could find inside their homes to protect them from the elements. Those that lived and worked in the castle, he had moved to inside the great hall.

  He turned his gaze to the figure nearest him. Theron stared back at him. He raised his hand and ran it over the black streak along the side of the dragon’s neck in remorse.

  He paused and closed his eyes as the familiar, agonizing shaft of pain ripped through him again. For a moment, he wished it was powerful enough to strike him dead. The pain, emptiness, and feelings of helplessness and remorse were almost more than he could endure.

  All of his attempts to locate the Sea Witch through magic had been fruitless. It was as if she no longer existed. Without knowing how she was able to transform his people to stone, there was no way of reversing it. There was nothing else that could be done. Not even the Dragon’s Heart had the power to break such a spell – he knew because he had tried to use it. Drawing in a deep breath, he opened his eyes and stiffened his shoulders in determination. One day, the Sea Witch would resurface and when she did, he would be ready. Until then, he would protect those that could not protect themselves.

  Drago turned and walked through the doorway of the great hall, shutting the massive doors behind him. He uttered a spell to lock the doors of the room before striding through the doubl
e doors leading outside. With a whisper, he cast a spell to enchant the castle. He would do the same for the entire Isle of the Dragon. No one would be able to set foot on the island – not even those of the magical realm. It was a spell no others knew. Those unlucky enough to make their way to the shores would perish, trapped between the high cliffs and the water.

  Shifting, he launched himself up into the air. He circled the isle five times, re-enforcing the spell until the mists grew thick and heavy. Only when he was satisfied did he return to the castle. Landing on the top tower, he scanned the isle one last time. This would be the last time he would see it.

  Drago blinked and turned his gaze to the ground. Pushing off of the turret, he swept downward. A moment before he impacted with the hard surface of the courtyard, the ground opened and he disappeared inside. The chasm was nearly thirty meters deep and as he shot through, the opening sealed behind him. He curved his body, swooping down the elaborate stone staircases and through the arched doorways to the massive cavern below. In the deepest chamber, he swept over the sea of treasure until he landed on a mountain of gold coins and jewels. His body slid down the avalanche of treasure to where a large platform towered.

  Drago stepped up the stairs to the top. With a swipe of his tail, he brushed off the coins and jewels that had fallen onto the stone platform before turning in a circle and lying down. His gaze swept over the immense wealth of the dragons. In the distance, he could see the replicas of his father and mother. They had been the first to disappear, shortly before the Great Battle had begun. They had traveled to the Isle of the Monsters to see Nali. Their loss had hit him and the other dragons hard.

  “I let you down, Father, but I will not give up,” Drago vowed, gazing at the statue of his sire. “I have nothing left to protect but the Dragon’s Heart that you hold. I will guard it until the very end.”

  Drago lowered his head, closed his eyes in grief, and as the silence grew, began the task of guarding the treasure of his people. Soon, hours passed into days, and days passed into weeks. The weeks blended into years, and the years faded into the chasm of emptiness that grew inside Drago. He eventually grew tired, sleeping more as his loneliness and the magic he needed to use to keep his body strong began to take its toll on him. He briefly woke when a slight disturbance shook the isle. The ground trembled beneath him, but he did not sense another’s presence and he soon fell back to sleep.

  The Dragon’s Heart glowed brightly, shimmering as if the Goddess was aware that the last of the dragons was in danger of perishing. Drago was unaware of the huge blood-red diamond rising from its resting place between the claws of his father’s statue. Lost in the realm of his dreams, he slept as a nearby passage slowly opened to another world.

  Chapter 1

  Carly Tate hummed to the music playing on the radio as she slowed to a stop at the front entrance to Yachats State Park. Today was the day! She was taking control of her life. In reality, today was actually the third day of ‘Today was the Day’. She was going to start exercising, lose some weight, focus on getting a better job, and perhaps even think about moving out of Yachats, Oregon. Heck, she might even consider moving to Portland or Seattle.

  “One baby step at a time,” she said out loud, repeating her new mantra.

  She just needed to concentrate on staying focused, which was not something that she was especially good at. Luckily, her roommate and best friend, since forever, loved her just the way she was – most of the time. Poor Jenny had the best shoulders to cry on, and only went a little nuts when Carly went to pieces after she chose to date the wrong kind of guys – like Ross Galloway.

  “How many?” the ranger asked in a slightly bored tone.

  “Just me,” Carly replied, handing him her state park pass.

  “Be careful along the trails; it looks like we have a storm coming. Park closes at sunset. Please park in designated areas only and don’t feed any wildlife,” the ranger said, handing back her pass, along with a map, and the parking pass for her car dash.

  “Thank you,” Carly responded.

  She decided it was probably best not to tell the ranger that they had had this same conversation the last three days in a row. This would make her fourth trip in as many days. She now had a nice stack of maps littering her passenger seat.

  Accelerating, she followed the winding road. The same old feelings started to choke her the farther she drove. She reached over and turned up the music just as she had done for the last three days, hoping it would kick her adrenaline into gear and not her imagination.

  Tall redwoods and other evergreens lined the narrow, winding road. Green moss grew on the rocks, making them slippery, and lush ferns rose up past her hips. Carly knew exactly how slippery the moss was and how high the ferns were because yesterday when she’d reached the top of the path, she had stepped up on a rock for a “Rocky movie moment” and had promptly – and very inelegantly – landed on her ass in the middle of some ferns.

  Carly was not a graceful athlete. In fact, just using the word athlete and her name in the same sentence was enough to qualify to go on the Comedy Central Standup Comedian circuit. She had decided the day before that she had a better chance of becoming a mega-star comedian than she did losing the weight she wanted and hiking the full length of the trail without killing herself in the process. Still, she had sworn to Jenny – her very athletic best friend – that she was going to do this even if it killed her.

  “Unfortunately, it just might,” Carly muttered when she shifted in the driver’s seat of her dark red Ford Focus and felt the bruises and protesting muscles from her fall the day before.

  She was still muttering under her breath when she pulled into the parking spot near the entrance to a hiking trail and turned off the ignition. She hadn’t tried this trail yet. Picking up one of the maps from the pile, she glanced at it and wrinkled her nose before releasing a low groan.

  “Four miles,” she moaned, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel. “You can do this, Carly. It’s only four miles. It will be a walk in the park.” A snort escaped her at the pun. “Okay, you do this and you can treat yourself to a small ice cream at the Dairy Queen on the way home, how’s that for a reward?”

  Leaning back in the seat, she bent over and picked up the small backpack from the floorboard and shoved the map inside. Opening the door, she slid out with another loud groan before glancing around to make sure no one else could see or hear her. She turned, slammed the door shut, and pocketed her car keys.

  “Ice cream. Remember the ice cream,” she mumbled under her breath as she forced her aching muscles into motion.

  She stepped onto the trail and pulled the denim and leather backpack onto her shoulders. Gripping the straps, she started down the uneven path. “Ice cream…” she muttered with each of the first two hundred and seventy-one steps before she started focusing on other more important things – like hungry bears, mountain lions, and Big Foot.

  Nearly two and a half miles later and barely half way into her hike, Carly was in a foul temper. She had fallen – again – when the large iced coffee she’d drunk earlier flooded her bladder and made stopping for a pit stop an urgent priority. Since there were no restrooms along the trail, she had been forced to find a bush to water.

  Of course, there was no flat ground to be found. The only options available were a rock wall to climb up or a steep slope to climb down. Her protesting muscles and lack of coordination, plus the fact there was nothing to hide behind if she climbed up, meant she was left with no alternative but to navigate the steep drop off. She had made it but not without a few slips and slides. The seat of her jeans and her knees were covered in damp, cold mud which added to the misery of her aching body.

  Fortunately, she had discovered a small stream of water coming out of the rocks a little further up the trail to clean up a little. The icy water had given her an opportunity to wash the dirt off of her hands and refresh herself. Of course, now her fingers were frozen.

  Think positi
ve, Carly. At least you’re not still completely filthy, she thought ruefully as she continued to trudge up the trail.

  Carly couldn’t help but think that if all of her earlier misadventures hadn’t been enough to convince her that she should have just gone to the gym, the unpredictable Oregon weather should have been the final decision maker. The dropping temperature and the rolling, thick clouds told her that she was an idiot for being a miser and letting her embarrassment get the best of her. Those two concerns had kept her from going to the local gym – money and Ross – and not necessarily in that order.

  She had been reluctant to purchase the annual membership until she knew she was going to stick with her exercise plan. She had bought the membership once a couple of years ago – and never went. Of course, she was older and more mature now which should have meant she was more disciplined – only Carly knew herself well enough when it came to exercise to know that she wasn’t. If she had thought more about it, she should have just purchased the monthly contract, but it would have cost her five dollars more each month, which in a year would have been a whopping sixty dollars more than the yearly membership.

  The real reason she didn’t go to the gym, though, was because of her reluctance to run into Ross Galloway. Ross put the bad in ‘bad boy’. Jenny had warned her, but Carly had been all goo-goo eyed when Ross had shown up in his faded jeans, ratty t-shirt, black leather jacket, and his devil-may-care attitude down at the local bar near the waterfront. She really knew better than to date a guy she met at the bar. She had known better than to date Ross Galloway – hell, he had been bad in high school! Still, she had been feeling pretty mellow after her first beer when he had asked her out – not something that happened all that often. He also went to the gym – the only one in town.

  By the fourth date, Carly had realized her mistake and called Jenny to come pick her up. Granted, it hadn’t all been Ross’s fault. She hadn’t meant to release the fishing net on his boat. It had been an accident. Also, he had been the one who had wanted a smoke! It wasn’t like she had dropped the match on purpose. You’d think if the guy owned a boat, he’d know if there were flammable items on board.