Beginnings: Five Heroic Fantasy Adventure Novels

by Lindsay Buroker

  “But I don’t think love is what’s on their minds now,” Raff added grimly.

  Tears sprang to Taylina’s eyes, and she gripped the tree’s gnarled trunk. “Why are they doing this?” she whispered.

  Again, she felt the urge to race down there and confront the intruders, to drive them away and protect her family and friends. But what could she do? Limp ferociously at them and beat them with her staff?

  “I’m afraid this means Iskandoth lost the war,” Raff said. “I’m surprised there wasn’t word from the mainland, a warning, but we’re so far out of the way. Maybe nobody thought to warn us.”

  “They should have. We’ve been the ones supplying the magical tools to help the army and the sorcerers over there.”

  Raff sucked in a concerned breath, and Taylina looked at him.

  “I wonder if— What if that’s why they’re here?” he asked. “Because of the tools. Maybe they want to keep us from supplying them to—” His eyes widened as he broke off.

  The dragon had landed. In the center of the dirt road, less than a quarter mile down the hill, it lowered its body to the ground, and three of the four riders slid off. Fierce-looking, shaven-headed men with maces, bows, and swords, they immediately strode up the road. The dragon leaped into the air, banking back toward the town, or perhaps the harbor where longboats full of Cofah troops were being rowed toward the docks. In each one, a man or woman in sorcerer’s robes stood at the prow, some soulblade or magical staff at the ready.

  Two of the soldiers striding up the road carried empty canvas bags over their shoulders.

  “They are coming for us,” Raff whispered.

  “Us or the tools?”

  “The tools most likely. Damn it, Tay, there are dozens of powerful artifacts in there that we’ve made. Since the supply ship was delayed, they’ve been stacking up and…”

  Raff grimaced, perhaps thinking now of why the supply ship might have been delayed these last months. Was the capital, way over on the western side of Iskandoth, embroiled in fighting? Or had it already fallen?

  “Come on.” He gripped her shoulder. “We have to get away from the road. This tree won’t hide us from their eyes when they’re right next to us.”

  Taylina knew he was right, but for a moment, her legs wouldn’t move. Numbness had crept over her entire body.

  The soldiers paused, lifting their bows toward the side of the road to their right. A handful of townspeople were running up the slope, no doubt trying to escape. The scrubby brush only partially hid them, and the soldiers were able to target them. Arrows flew, and screams—women’s screams—came from the slope.

  Raff cursed. “I’m going to have to try something. I wish—no, it doesn’t matter now. I’m not a warrior, but I have to do what I can. Tay, get up the slope, up to the grove and beyond. Hide up there. If I can, I’ll find you later. And I’ll check on your parents.”

  Taylina wanted to object to running and hiding, especially if he was going out to risk himself, but Raff did not give her time to argue. He slipped away from the olive tree, ducking into the brush alongside the road, soon disappearing as he worked his way down the hill.

  Taylina took a step after him, but her heel came down on a rock, and she slipped, an awkward jolt running up her leg to her hip. Pain throbbed deep in the joint. Reminded again of what a pitiful warrior she would be—unlike Raff, she didn’t even have magic to call upon and use cleverly—she turned and pushed through the brush back toward the shop.

  A startled shout came from somewhere behind her. She hoped it was Raff using his power to hurl those men all the way back into the ocean. Unfortunately, she knew that was unlikely, since he was, as he had said, a tool-making specialist and not an elemental mage, but maybe he could come up with something.

  She started to walk past the tool shop, intending to continue up the hill toward the olive groves, but she hesitated, her gaze drawn to the front door Raff had left wide open. As if in invitation to the Cofah.

  “No,” she whispered. “You’re not getting the tools we made.”

  Taylina looked back down the road, but the terrain hid those three men from view. Hoping that meant she had a little time—or that Raff was buying time—she veered toward the door. She grabbed a few tools from the cabinet full of finished projects, but soon realized she couldn’t carry that many of them, not when she needed her staff to lean on. She only took small items and ones she believed extra valuable because of their traits, stuffing them into a bag much as the Cofah had planned to do. Others, she moved to a storage vault under the floor tiles in the back. A sorcerer would have no trouble sensing their power and finding them. She hoped none of those men had such talents.

  She limped back toward the front door, but halted abruptly. She hadn’t closed it, and the road was visible with two of the three men walking straight toward her. There was no sign of Raff. She ducked into the shadows behind a worktable. Had the men seen her? She hoped not. There weren’t any shouts.

  With her bag over her shoulder and her staff in hand, she darted around tools and half-started projects, angling for a side window, one that wasn’t visible from the front of the building. She opened it, smoky air flowing inside, and crawled out. She had barely landed on the ground when the thud of the front door hitting the wall sounded behind her.

  A man spoke in the Cofah language, which she did not understand at all, but she could imagine the words: “Take everything that’s magical or worth anything.”

  Clangs and crashes followed on the heels of the words.

  Taylina crawled away on her hands and knees, tears pricking her eyes at the sounds of destruction in the shop where she had spent the last two years working, in the shop that her father had helped her build when it first became clear that they needed to assist in the war effort, to help Iskandoth stay free. It seemed that their assistance hadn’t been enough.

  As she crested the top of the hill, the olive groves spreading out before her, her eyes had even more reason to tear up. A dragon and rider flew over the trees, raining fire down onto the branches, destroying everything. She paused beside a boulder, hiding from the sky and also looking back behind her. More of the town was burning or destroyed now, and those boats full of soldiers had reached the docks. Troops raced everywhere, attacking or capturing the people who hadn’t run, those who were fighting back. Who were trying to fight back.

  Gray plumes of smoke came from a familiar spot halfway up the hill, the tool shop. The bastards had lit it on fire.

  Dashing tears from her eyes, Taylina picked a careful path around the grove. Frustration boiled inside her. She hated that there was nothing for her to do but hide and run—and avoid the fire leaping from tree to tree, hazing the sky with smoke that seared her nostrils and made her cough. She wanted so badly to help, but what could one lame girl do against dragons with fire and magic, and professional soldiers with blades and bows?

  “You’d need a dragon of your own to fight back,” she grumbled, again wiping tears from her smoke-beleaguered eyes. She froze halfway through the motion, an idea leaping to her mind, startling her with its intensity.

  “The dragon,” she whispered, looking in the direction of the southern half of the island, the half that belonged to Bergethor the Bleak.

  The dragon was old, grumpy, and prone to eating sheep, dogs, and even humans foolish enough to walk into his territory. Not that anyone from town strayed onto that side of the island. An old treaty a past chief had made with Bergethor kept him from coming to this side of the island, and the locals were careful to heed the boundaries. Bergethor wasn’t a dragon that anyone bothered—certainly, nobody had ever asked him to join forces with humans to fight off the Cofah Empire. Or if they had, they had never been heard from again.

  But what choice did Taylina have? Only a dragon had the power to fight another dragon. Of course, Bergethor was only one dragon, and she had seen three, not to mention sorcerers, but he was supposed to be very old. Weren’t older dragons more powerful than the y
oung? Maybe he could drive the Cofah away.

  “Just have to figure out how to get him to help,” she muttered.

  The task sounded daunting, if not impossible, but she turned toward the south half of the island. Bergethor was the only one with the power to help, and one way or another, she intended to talk him into it. Before it was too late.

  2

  Night fell, but the fires continued to burn in the groves and the town, lighting up the cloudy horizon with a reddish tint that made Taylina sick to her stomach. The bag full of tools had grown heavy, and she leaned on her staff as she picked her way along the goat trails in the center of the island. She could no longer hear the cries of people nor the clanging of the town bell, and she tried to tell herself that was simply because she had walked too far away. It didn’t mean that everything was destroyed and everyone was dead. It couldn’t.

  She hadn’t seen any of the dragons since twilight, but she would not have lit a lantern, even if she’d had one. She worried about being spotted from the skies. Thinking of the way those soldiers had shot at people who were fleeing, people who had clearly been no threat, she couldn’t help but fear for her safety, so she moved as quietly as she could in the dark. She kept her ears open, too, hoping to hear the rustling of brush that might mean others of her people were around. After all, she’d seen them fleeing away from town. But perhaps they had stopped once they reached the wilderness, turning to watch what unfolded back in the harbor.

  Taylina passed through the rocky contours of the center of the island. It was quiet there, only the roar of the ocean audible in the distance. Whenever the clouds parted and the moon shone through, she could make out the cliffs ahead of her, the rugged terrain marking the dragon’s half of the island.

  “Taylina?” came a soft call from behind her.

  She froze, leaning against a boulder to blend in with the night. But the voice was familiar.

  “Raff?” she called quietly.

  “Yes.” Pebbles crunched under his feet. “When I told you to hide, I didn’t mean for you to hide so far away.”

  “I gave myself a mission.”

  One she hated to delay. Even though she was relieved to hear her friend’s voice, and her aching body appreciated the rest stop, she did not want to linger. She had to convince Bergethor the Bleak to help before it was too late to matter, before there was nothing left to fight for.

  Raff appeared in the shadows, picking his way toward her. He grunted softly as he walked, as if in pain.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, remembering that he had gone off to try and stop those soldiers.

  “I’ve had better days.”

  It was too dark for her to see much, other than his dark body silhouetted against the reddish sky behind him, but he seemed to be holding his ribs.

  “Do you need anything?” she asked, though she did not know what she could give. She hadn’t had time to grab food or water. Nothing.

  “Nothing I can have right now,” he said with a sigh.

  “What happened? Mind if we keep walking?” She pointed down the path.

  “Why? I think we’re far enough from the invaders.” His tone turned even grimmer than it had been. “They’ve got the whole town to worry about. I doubt they’ll come looking for us.”

  “What’s happening back there? Can you tell?” She touched her temple to indicate that he might “tell” with magic.

  “They’re rounding everybody up—a lot of our people escaped and are hiding in the hills. I met up with your brother there, but he didn’t know where your parents and sister were—he’d been running errands when the attack came and hadn’t been able to get back to the woodworking shop. Do you want me to take you to them? It’s a good four miles back. Tay, what are you doing way up here? If I didn’t know your aura so well, I never would have found you.”

  “Then I’m glad my aura is distinctive, because I think I’m going to need you.”

  “Oh, that’s a given, but for what, in particular?”

  “Only sorcerers and sorceresses get to become dragon riders, right?”

  “Uh, right,” Raff said, his confusion evident in his tone, even if she couldn’t see his face. “As far as I know. Usually powerful sorcerers with soulblades—magical, sentient swords.”

  “What about toolmakers?” Taylina asked.

  “I might be given the honor of buffing a dragon’s claws.”

  “Well, you’re going to do more than that.” She grabbed his arm. “We’re going to talk to Bergethor the Bleak.”

  Raff had started to step toward her, but he faltered. “We’re what?”

  “He’s the only one who can help.”

  “Help what? Eat us so that we die quickly and aren’t captured by the Cofah?”

  “We’re going to talk him into helping us.” Taylina started down the path toward the cliffs again, hoping to show that she would go whether Raff came with her or not. But she hoped he came with her. He knew so much more about magic, and probably about dragons too. Maybe this mission was suicidal, but to simply hide in the hills and wait for the Cofah to leave—or settle in—was not acceptable.

  “How are you going to do that?” Raff asked. “Note: I said you and not we.”

  “You’re leaving the lowly woodworker to confront the dragon alone?”

  “You promised me you weren’t lowly.”

  “I just told you not to call me that or I’d club you.” She shook her head, continuing on. This wasn’t the time for jokes. Not when most of her family was still missing, as far as she knew. Not when the world was in chaos.

  “Taylina…” Raff grumbled but trailed after her, jogging to catch up. “Do you have a plan? What are you carrying anyway?”

  “As many tools as I could gather, so the Cofah wouldn’t get them.”

  “Here, let me carry the bag.”

  Taylina almost told him that she could handle it, but in truth, toting them while leaning on her staff was wearying. Even though the salty, smoky night air was not hot, sweat dampened her brow and her back under the bag. She paused to give it to him.

  “Thank you,” she said when he accepted it. “As to the plan, that’s part of it. I’m going to offer to trade him our tools.”

  “What does a dragon need tools for? They don’t even have hands.”

  “Well, he’s got a big cave in the cliffs, doesn’t he? I’m sure he likes collecting treasures to stick in it. Some of those wands we made are colorful and glow perkily.”

  “Perky wands, just what a dragon needs. As far as treasures, I think you’ve been reading too many books. I bet his cave is full of bones, the bones of those he’s eaten.”

  “If he’s not interested in the tools,” Taylina said, “I’ll point out that the Cofah are invading his island, just as much as they’re invading our island. Maybe he’ll be territorial and go out and attack them to drive them away. He’s lived here for centuries, the tales say.”

  “Wouldn’t he have already done that? I’m positive he knows what’s happening. He probably knew those Cofah dragons were coming before they were anywhere near our island.”

  “Are you going to stomp all over all of my plans?”

  “Just the ones that are likely to lead to you—us—being eaten.”

  “Better than being Cofah slaves for the rest of our lives.”

  Raff grumbled something under his breath, but he continued to follow her. He uttered a prayer to the sea god when they crossed the Creviced Tiers, the official dividing line between the dragon’s half of the island and the humans’ half. Even though Taylina believed Bergethor would be too busy monitoring the invaders to pay attention to two humans crossing onto his side, she couldn’t help but glance up often. The moon came out as they climbed, and that left more of the sky visible.

  “I’ve noticed the Cofah dragons haven’t come to this side,” Raff observed as they used the moonlight to guide them up the craggy terrain, higher and higher, toward the peak of the island—and the cave where Bergethor made his
home. As a girl, when Taylina had gone out in fishing boats with her father and brother, she had seen it, the dark opening high in the cliffs that overlooked the Southern Shoals. She had only seen it from a great distance, as the town’s fishing and trading ships did not venture close to land on that side of the island, but she remembered it well, and how ominous it had appeared. She’d thought she had seen yellow eyes peering out from the darkness, though her father had told her it was her imagination.

  “There’s nothing over here for them but trouble,” Taylina said. She feared there was nothing over here for her and Raff but trouble too. He was considerate enough not to mention it. “I appreciate you coming with me,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

  “Nobody should have to face a dragon alone.”

  “You’re a noble man.”

  “Uh huh. Just to be clear, you will be the one in front when we face the dragon. Far in front.”

  Taylina wiped her brow again, more from the exertion than from nervousness over walking into a dragon’s cave. Climbing up steep slopes and clambering over the rocks where there were no trails was taking its toll, and she had jammed her leg awkwardly so many times that her hips throbbed, even the perfectly normal one. She almost welcomed a confrontation with a dragon, if only to end this night.

  They came around a natural rock tower, and sea air blasted at them, the strong southerly winds that always buffeted this end of the island. They had reached the far side.

  Taylina squinted at the cliffs overlooking the water. They were far more sheer than she had realized. In the dark, she couldn’t see the cave entrance or even guess at its location. Nor could she imagine how they would climb along those steep cliffs. Even climbing them during the day would be difficult, especially for her.

  “Don’t tell me we’ll be stuck waiting until dawn,” she said.

  “I’ll risk a light,” Raff said, and unfurled a hand.

  A glowing, silvery globe appeared in the air in front of Taylina, illuminating the rocks for ten feet in all directions. It also illuminated Raff’s face, and she sucked in a startled breath at the dried blood on his cheek and jaw, and the huge purple knot at his temple.