With everything gathered, she stuffed the pile into her Osprey hiking backpack, which was now bursting at the seams. As a final thought, she scribbled a note to her parents reassuring them that she was okay. She left it on her bed. At least they would know she was alive.
The final preparations she made were outdoors for the farm animals. She ensured their food stores were full. The farm hands would be returning from dead-week the day after tomorrow, so the animals would be okay.
With everything in order, they assembled on the farmhouse lawn. The morning’s glaring sunlight beat down on them. “Do you have everything you wish to bring?” Reyr asked. “Yes, I think so.” She shouldered her pack, nearly buckling under its weight.
“Good. It is time to go.” He led her away. “You will be flying with me.”
She knew why. None of the others could stand flying with her. She held her tongue, even though she had plenty to say on the matter.
“Once I transform, you will climb upon my back. I have no harness, so you will have to hold on tight.” She nodded as he spoke. “And I should warn you, in our dragon form we cannot speak to you. We Drengr do not possess the ability for human speech when we are dragons. However, you may call to us if needed. We can hear and understand you.”
“Okay,” she said. She already knew this but pretended otherwise. Happy with her understanding, Reyr moved away from her. Koldis was already in his dragon form near the barn. Cyrus’s shrouded body was strapped to his back.
Without further warning, Jovari and Reyr also shifted, their clothes melting away as their bodies grew. In an instant, they transformed into hulking dragons. She felt her jaw drop as she watched the change.
In the brightness of day, the sunlight glittered off their scaly hides. Their beauty swept everything from her mind. She almost forgot how poorly they treated her—almost.
Up close, the dragons were much larger than the one she saw falling from the sky. This presented her with a significant challenge. It took multiple tries to hoist herself from Reyr's foreleg to his back. With each failed attempt, she heard Koldis snort impatiently; he was laughing at her. She finally succeeded, swinging her right leg up and over. Then she did her best to get comfortable with such hard scales beneath her rear.
In spite of everything, it was difficult to believe what was happening. She looked from one dragon form to the next. They were a sight to behold. Their eyes sparkled with color, and their bodies were both beautiful and fierce. Each hulking shape was covered in dazzling scales from head to tail, and the spikes on those tail-tips were different styles. The underside of their bodies turned from scales to smooth, snake-like skin. It was impossible to decide which dragon’s appearance was the most impressive.
Koldis was a stunning shade of emerald green. He stood a bit taller in the shoulder than Jovari. Jovari’s scales were the color of blue sapphire. Each glassy scale shimmered. However, it was Reyr's form that dominated the scene. His hulking body was larger than both of his companions. His scales were a brilliant deep golden color. It gave him a statuesque appearance, like something malted in gold standing guard in front of an important building.
"I am ready to leave this forsaken place." Koldis broke the mental silence, intruding into her mind. They shared a few final confirmations telepathically. She continued to pretend she couldn't hear them. She had bigger fish to fry, much bigger fish. Her best bet was keeping her mouth shut, complying with their orders, and getting to the king as soon as possible—those were the inklings of urgency the magic of her promise created. Already she was eager to be rid of it, feeling cursed.
Several moments passed before she heard Reyr’s orders to launch. A giant roar escaped his jaws, vibrating up through his throat. His rumbling gave the death place of Cyrus a final goodbye, and then they were in motion.
With a great leap, Reyr propelled her upward. Her body jolted as the downward force of gravity took effect. It made her feel heavy like she was being squished. Then suddenly the ground fell away. Huge golden wings at least twenty feet in length stretched out from both sides of Reyr’s body, catching the wind.
As they ascended, she was alight with sensation. Her heart hammered violently in her chest. The wind whistled as it rushed past her ears. Her head began adapting to the pressure change. And once they gained some altitude, her ears plugged up and popped.
Beneath her, she felt the smooth hard scales of Reyr's neck. They were almost too hot to touch. As soon as she got over the many sensations of lifting off, she allowed herself to look around. The scene that greeted her was unbelievable. There were white cotton ball clouds not far above them, and beneath them, the ground stretched out in little green and brown patches. The world was better this way—detached—as if she wasn’t part of the heavens or the earth. She was somewhere in between. It was exactly how her heart felt when she lost Cyrus—disconnected from the rest of the world, lost in her own grief.
Jovari’s voice sounded in her mind. “Reyr,” he said. “Let us make haste. Lead us to the Gate.”
And that was that—she was off to Dragonwall.
16
Shadowkeep
Kane considered the map before him, moving his eyes from marking to marking. This was not a common map: It was very different from any other map in existence. Not because of its tar-black ink, which never faded over the years, though that was certainly abnormal. Nor was it because of the map’s size, for it was monstrously large, spilling over the sides of the great table. It wasn’t because of the map’s age; surely such a document should have been tattered, its color faded with time, its surface wrinkled and creased; this one was embossed with a powerful anti-aging spell; still, that was not the reason.
No, this map was unique because it did not simply end at the borders of Dragonwall. Dragonwall’s maps, every one of them, only went as far as the boundaries around the kingdom—the Northern and Eastern Barrier Ranges, the Dragonfire Sea to the west, and the South Seas to the south. This map continued northward and eastward, well into uncharted territory, except the territory was charted, it was laid out upon the parchment in fine detail. There was no other map like it. This pleased Kane, for he enjoyed knowing things no one else did.
As he studied the parchment, he made annotations, notes for later. Every so often he muttered to himself, “That won’t do.” Or, “Surely not there.” All the while, his mind analyzed each option available, taking great care as he spanned the whole of Dragonwall.
The task set ahead of him was a very important one: He required hiding places for his three precious Dragon Stones. These locations needed to be unreachable for anyone except him, and easily accessible should he need to recover the Stones on short notice, such as when he obtained the remaining two.
He leaned over the map and made several transcriptions near a set of caves not too far east. “Yes,” he decided. “This will make an excellent hiding place.” High on the cliffs, the caves were unreachable, except for perhaps a mountain goat, or maybe a dragon, for that was how he intended to arrive. He scanned several more places along the parchment. Two locations remained unselected, but which would he choose?
Someone knocked upon his door. “You may enter.” He laid his quill down on the parchment, careful not to smear any of the wet ink. The door swung open and Gerard the servant shuffled in, overly bent at the waist such that his nose and eyes faced the floor. How ridiculous he looked walking in such a way. Behind him marched an armored Gobelin, helm tucked under its elbow.
"My Lord," Gerard croaked. "A visitor." Even standing, the servant’s posture was stooped, evidence of the many hours spent cleaning. Yet Shadowkeep was still in ruins, full of dust and cobwebs...
After several moments, Gerard failed to dismiss himself. “You may go, Gerard. And do take extra care when scrubbing the hall today. I saw spiders the size of my fist lurking in the shadows.” The servant shuddered before backing from the room.
With Gerard’s exit, the Gobelin stepped forward. Gobelins were short—this one did not qui
te reach his chest. Its sinewy muscles made up for its lack of height. “Greetings, Your Malevolence. I bring word from Supreme Leader Tazak.” The Gobelin’s accent was harsh and guttural.
“Good. I will hear it.”
“Supreme Leader Tazak wishes Unka to tell Your Malevolence—troops are assembled as requested. March from Pavv into Eastern Barrier Range will begin immediately. In mean time, Unka and Unka’s men sent as gift of good will. May alliance be strong and last long.” Upon finishing his recitation, Unka brought his fist to his chest in a powerful gesture of respect.
“Yours is welcome news, Unka.” The Gobelin was one of few who spoke the common language. This was pleasing. Better still, Tazak’s troops were assembled in the Eastern Range, ready to march. The Gobelin king had tens of thousands under his command. “How many follow you, Unka of Pavv?”
“One hundred strong males,” Unka answered, pulling his shoulders back proudly. “More from Supreme Leader can come if Your Malevolence desire.”
“Very well. One hundred will suffice for now. Since you are a gift to do with as I please, I have a task for you. I must ensure that the lands surrounding my fortress remain free of wandering trespassers. See to it that your men patrol. Kill any who come within ten leagues unless they look suspicious, in which case, bring them to me.”
“Yes, Your Malevolence. Unka go patrol.”
Upon Unka’s exit from the room, he returned to his task. Perhaps it was his focus upon the map, or the safety provided by the fortress that made him careless, for he did not immediately notice the smoke in the corner. It materialized like hissing steam oozing from lava rock, seeping through the cracks of the walls. He turned to face the Vodar wraiths just as they arose like shadows come to life.
A brief assessment of their appearance told him everything he needed to know. They had failed. “You have returned empty-handed.” He scowled. This was a heavy blow to his plans. “Once more I find myself disappointed.”
“My lord,” one of the six stepped forward. “We were met with opposition—a powerful girl.”
“A girl? You failed at the hands of a girl?”
“She used strange magic against us. Next time we will be ready.”
The world Beyond was void of magic, it was created that way. His ancestors made it to exile the magicless of this world, human scum. With the laws implemented after the creation of these portals, laws prohibiting the use of any Gate punishable by death, none dared pass. Now he was curious. “Of what girl do you speak?”
“She was young, my lord. She needed no sword to vanquish us, no fire to drive us away. Her device was—unusual.”
There was a moment of silence before another stepped forward. “We underestimated our task, my lord.”
“Obviously. You failed to obtain my Stones. I am beginning to think you are pointless sacks of smoke, useful for nothing at all.”
“I killed the white one, my lord.” A third stepped forward. Unlike the others, this one’s short sword was missing.
“Well there is something—one small success dwarfed by your colossal failure. And the girl? Tell me you killed her too.”
“She lives.”
His mood darkened. “Find her. Kill her. And bring me my Stones!” The last part he hissed through his clenched jaw.
They were off at once, and good riddance too. Anything drawn from the depths of Undirfold was unsettling, even for him. These particular creatures required a vast amount of power to control.
He returned to his map. “You still have three Stones,” he reminded himself. He enjoyed the power they provided, the confidence, the strength. He would accomplish his goals, and the Stones would aid him on his road to domination. Hiding them away was unfortunate but necessary until their safety was guaranteed.
Gerard knocked at his door; he knew it was Gerard because the servant’s smell permeated the air. He gritted his teeth in displeasure. A day full of disturbances was an unpleasant day indeed!
"What is it?" he snapped. He would kill the next intruder.
Gerard entered again, this time pale and fidgety. He stood there silently with bulging eyes until Kane reminded him that he was a nuisance. “Have you no floor to mop? No hole to hide yourself in?”
The servant muttered something inaudible and continued his jiggling, eyes still wide enough to burst.
“Have you something to say? Or did you simply come to gawk?”
Gerard whispered, once more mumbling incoherently. Of all the servants he employed, this one was certainly the most annoying—and meddlesome too. Were it not so difficult to recruit common scum, he would have done away with Gerard long ago. “Well? Spit it out!”
“D—dragons…my…my lord,” he managed to say. He pointed to one of the loopholes in the room. “Dragons,” he repeated. “Dragons over Ice Lake. Look, my lord. See them? There.”
Ice Lake was the large, partially frozen lake at the basin of Shadowkeep. He knew very well about the dragons. He also knew why the servant was so surprised. Dragons were extinct, or so everyone believed. They were nothing more than fairy tales used to scare little children.
“Look,” Gerard repeated.
“I need not look. What of them?”
“They are…they are wild.”
“Good observation you simpering idiot. Is that all you wish to tell me?”
“But…but how is it possible? How can…how can it be? Why are there wild dragons over Ice Lake?”
Now he was truly losing his patience. “Why? Because I commanded it of them!” He’d had enough. “Do you see this sword here?” He pointed at his long sword lying propped against the wall.
“Y—yes, my lord.”
“If you bother me one more time today, I will use it to slice off your idiotic head from your shoulders. How I would love to see it roll! Would you like that?”
Gerard cowered in fear, whimpering.
“Now leave me.”
He almost regretted not taking Gerard’s head. Death always made him feel better. But one death would be nothing compared to the numerous lives he was about to take. He felt the muscles on his face pull at his lips, until his teeth were exposed. Yes, why not have some fun, there was no more need to wait.
He went to the loophole and looked out upon Ice Lake, taking in the sight that Gerard was so terrified of. He took pleasure in Gerard’s fear. The people of Dragonwall would have similar reactions of disbelief. Nearly one hundred, swooping and diving as they caught fish and game from the lake. Every color imaginable was on display, but he looked for one in particular. A blood-red flash caught his eye. There he was—Wrath—the leader of the Ice Clan. The Ice Clan was the oldest and most infamous of the ancient dragon clans. The Ice Clan was also the only clan still in existence, unbeknownst to Dragonwall and its king. How overjoyed he was upon discovering them hiding away in the North. Kalderland had been full of surprises. Now he offered them the one thing taken from them some fifty thousand years ago—their home—but only a portion of it. The North of Dragonwall would be theirs if they cooperated, and the South would be his.
“Wrath, it is time.” He sent the telepathic thought to the wild dragon. Watching the creature from a distance, he noticed that the red beast changed its flight pattern.
“Time to fly? Time to kill? Wrath yearns to deal death—yearns to kill.” Dragons often spoke of themselves like this.
“Yes, Wrath. It is time to deal death.”
“Wrath shall begin at once.”
“Good. Burn Belnesse to the ground. Leave no one alive.”
17
The Gate
Claire expected the Gate to be a spectacular structure, some kind of extraordinary thing to behold, or at least a door. It wasn’t any of that. Its mundane appearance was hardly distinguishable amidst the wooded grove where it resided.
Jovari was the first to walk through. When he vanished before her eyes, she struggled to believe it. Watching something disappear into thin air was unsettling, even after what she had been through. “What—w
hat will happen to us?” She turned to Koldis and Reyr.
“Your insides will explode, and you will cease to exist.” Koldis smirked, pleased with his joke. He then hoisted up Cyrus’s body and followed Jovari, vanishing through the Gate.
She gazed at the spot where he vanished. “He was only—he was only joking, right?” Of course her insides wouldn’t explode, that would be silly. Yet she still felt the need to ask.
“Koldis was only joking,” said Reyr. He was the last remaining Drengr on this side of the portal.
“So…so we will just walk through and come out in your world?”
“That is the gist of it.”
She swallowed, overly nervous and stalling for the inevitable. Even now, she could feel the bonds of her promise like invisible hands, pushing her where she needed to go. “What will it be like on the inside?”
“You mean between worlds?”
She nodded.
“When you travel through, it will be cold as ice and darker than a moonless night, but only for a few moments.” He waited patiently beside her. This was a welcome relief. After nearly three days of flying, he seemed a bit more relaxed towards her. He was especially nicer now compared to before.
She turned to face him. “Reyr, you know I didn’t kill Cyrus, right? I don’t know any magic. I especially don’t know how to fight. I could never best a Drengr. I could never kill a King’s Shield.” She wouldn’t dream of petitioning him with the others around.
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