The Dragon Mage Collection

by L J Andrews

  Gregor’s eyes were locked to the sky when I approached his side. “You feel it too, Thane,” he grumbled.

  I nodded. “Yes. But I see nothing. Where is the king?”

  “Safe in his chamber. I asked the High Priest to seal the room.”

  “Bron told me there was breach in the walls.”

  Gregor narrowed his gaze toward me, the same moment Malik stalked next to us. “Your Highness,” Gregor began, but stopped when Malik saluted the lead warrior with his fist.

  “Not tonight, Gregor. I follow your lead.”

  Gregor actually seemed pleased, though his face rarely offered a glimpse into his inner emotions. I saw the way his dark eyes brightened. “Thane, you said Bron mentioned a breach?” Gregor’s voice was dark, and it sent a chill down my boiling skin.

  Slowly, I nodded, my grip on my hilt tightening. “Yes. Not long ago.”

  “There is no breach,” Gregor hissed. “I’ve checked the walls twice tonight. Why would he even think…”

  Gregor trailed off, and like a blade stabbing me through the heart I felt the tremble before I even heard the shrieks of the serpents. Lindworms had such a distinct call, I knew they’d come without needing to see them. The bellow filling the halls sent panic bolting through my veins. I knew the war call, I knew the sound. We all did.

  “The king,” Gregor gasped.

  Gregor peeled into his wyvern form before I could take another breath. His body was enormous. A deep ebony with silver glimmering along the points of his scales. With a roar that shook the ground we stood upon, Gregor called the warriors to unite.

  Our king was under attack.

  Malik and I shifted and burst outside the castle walls together. I took the lead, the moonlight revealing the dark serpents from their shadowed hiding places. I was an elemental warrior, the elements of the earth fueled our way of life, but the lindworms—they harnessed the power of the night. It was dangerous energy, powerful, and dark. I understood little about the energy, only that it rivaled our own and if I absorbed it I would likely die.

  Watching the lindworms attack in their element of darkness was frightening. When Nag had taken his warriors against out castle the night Jade was born, we’d pushed them back before they’d even reached the edge of the bluffs. Tonight, I was in disbelief, seeing the lawns, the villas, the towers bursting at the seams with slippery, dark serpents. How had they come inside? Without anyone even noticing.

  It didn’t matter. It was happening now. Roaring ferociously, my claws sank deep into the neck of a slender snake. He bellowed wildly, thrashing his wings and tail to rip me away. But without haunches and legs, I had the upper hand. When the lindworm’s dark blood stained the russet gleam of my claws, I sank my fangs deep into his throat. The taste burned my own mouth as his night-filled pyre dripped down my throat. I was too lost in my own fury to even care. With a fierce flick of my head, I ripped the beast of its life.

  Glancing behind me, I watched Malik destroy the wings of a second lindworm until it fell from flight.

  Malik! Go to Reya. You must protect your family. I roared desperately.

  It was the first time I brought the prince to pause.

  I am a warrior, Thane. His words were said as though he needed to convince me. Malik would never need to convince me of that.

  You are, I agreed, slashing my talons toward a fleeing lindworm rushing from a pair of elemental warriors now taking to the sky. Fight with us, but protect your family first. You are Reya’s mate first, Jade’s father first. Then you fight with me. Now, Go.

  Malik snarled through my thoughts, but I felt his heart turn toward the two people most important to him. I will come back. Don’t kill them all, save some for me.

  With a harsh blast of flames against a large black serpent with two front legs, I grinned through my heart. I would fight with Malik. The foreboding raging in my soul meant nothing. Destiny be damned. As I always said. I would make my own fate tonight.

  Gregor’s roar sent my heart trembling. Sinking my jaws into the hardened black scales coating a lindworm’s spine, I kept my eye focused on the tower of my king. Gregor was inside, but I didn’t see him. Had he shifted? Then the bellow of a lindworm I wished I never had to hear again clashed through my thoughts. King Nag.

  I remembered the lindworm king. His brutality was rumored across the wyvern races. It was said the king slaughtered his own people for pleasure. Power was his only love, and taking the power of all the elements his only purpose. I caught a single glimpse of the king ten years ago. Nag seemed more like a black elemental wyvern, with four legs. But his body was slender and long like a lindworm. Now, that fierce, guttural bellow was echoing through my king’s castle. My people. My friends.

  Fiery rage took hold. All I needed to do was get to Gregor, and I would dispatch Nag myself. Everything stopped when a shocking pain ripped through my side as I spread my wings to take flight. Roaring in anguish, I rolled, seeing the massive jaws of a sprawling lindworm warrior sink his dripping fangs into my ribs.

  Never had such anguish spread through my blood as our differing energies collided. I felt the blast of night energy fill my body. I was consumed, the blinding agony searing through every drop of blood as the fangs tore through the layers of my scales. It was a moment where I could succumb and die. Or—with an agonizing shred of my flesh—I rolled my body. The fangs of the lindworm mutilating my flesh even more. I spread my wings wide as I’d shown my warriors earlier, and found my claws placed perfectly beneath the fleshy underbelly of the beast. Without thought to the fiery pain raging along my side, without care that I was starting to slip from the sky, I thrust my talons deep into the heart of the snake. Blood dripped onto my snout, my wings, but I only dug deeper.

  The lindworm snapped his fangs at me for one final bite, but slowly the light faded from his yellow eyes. Breathing a stream of weak flames, I caught the wind once more, letting the body of the dead lindworm warrior slump off my claws and fall into oblivion. My body shuddered, and I tasted my own blood on my tongue. I was dying. The wound was great, but I pounded my wings desperately toward the castle. This was not the night I would die. I refused. As I said, destiny be damned.

  Collapsing onto the king’s balcony, I inspected the wound along my body. Choking slightly on a swallow of blood, a gaping hole was torn into my ribs. My wing was bitten, but nothing that would hinder my human form from using my arms. The first tactic if we were faced with mortal injuries in battle was to shift forms. I didn’t understand the change completely, but there were times when the different bodies handled injury differently. It was a risk, I could shift and the wound might be greater still. Or, it could save my life. Grumbling in the back of my throat, I breathed deeply. I was dying—it was clear—in my true form. Shifting was the only chance at continuing this fight.

  The scales along my side, across the bloody gash, burned with such fury I nearly willed my own life away in the moment. When I finally felt the cool granite stone against my back I stayed still for several gasping breaths until I found the strength to sit up. The spot where I’d been bitten was a gnarled bruise along my ribs. Blood oozed beneath the surface, but the dying strength ceased. I found I could stand and I wouldn’t fall. My weaker form, was actually keeping me alive. With a curse at destiny, I sneered. No, this was not the night I would die.

  My jaw clenched tight and I rushed toward the shattered doors leading into the king’s chamber. It was a bloody mess, but the king wasn’t there. The room was overturned, the scent of lindworm coating the stone walls. The scent of—energy. Mages had been here. Or at least one very powerful mage.

  My thoughts drifted toward Gaia. It felt like her, but without the calm she always kept. Where were the mages? Shaking the thoughts away I rushed toward a clatter coming from the throne room down the tower stairs.

  Rushing along the distance of the hallway I found the doors were opened wide, and I nearly lost my breath once more when I caught sight of Gregor slashing his talons against the fury of King
Nag. Dead on the floor were several mages, and warriors. There were blades for the taking, and without hesitation I snatched a warrior’s sword from the carnage.

  My blade was met with a lindworm warrior’s strike. I’d never seen a lindworm in human form. The man’s hair was dark and matted around his face, his eyes weren’t yellow, just black as pitch. His body was bare apart from black trousers already coated in blood. Ignoring the tug against my ribs, our swords clashed. The slide of steel echoing in my mind, as Gregor raged fire against King Nag’s massive skull.

  The lindworm man jabbed the point of his jagged sword toward my middle, but I spun out, drawing my weapon toward his shoulder. He blocked the strike, but fell to his knees with the pressure I pulsed down through my blade. The rage, anger, fear, everything collided in my chest in one fierce instant. I wanted this singular warrior to pay for the lives lost and forgotten along the floor of the throne room.

  Kicking the lindworm in the chest, I watched him fall back on the ground. A few mumbled pleas I didn’t care to hear, and my blade was soon buried in the center of his chest. I bellowed my fury at the beast. My thoughts jumbled when I glanced back toward Gregor.

  Nag slashed a heavy clawed foot toward the warrior, but was met with Gregor’s fangs. The lindworm king hissed furiously before—like the coward he was—dove from a broken window shattered in the room and disappeared in the night. I gasped heavily, the throbbing injury along my ribs reminding me I was on borrowed time unless I could be healed. Gregor roared—a roar of pain, of betrayal. Following his bellow, I was certain my heart would stop. Standing over the shattered body of King Lux, stood Bron.

  He locked eyes with Gregor, whose scales broke away piece by piece, the warrior heaved in deadly focus when his penetrating gaze locked on the High Priest. I didn’t know what it meant, I didn’t understand why Bron was there. Where were his blades?

  “You traitor!” Gregor roared.

  Bron sneered. With shattering understanding it all made sense.

  My hand tightened on the sword and I took a step forward, but stopped when Bron held up his hands. “Don’t come closer,” he warned. “I don’t want to kill you—but I will.”

  “You let Nag kill the king,” Gregor roared. “It is you who will die, High Priest.”

  “No,” Bron chuckled, a venom in his expression I’d never seen before, but it seemed so natural I wondered how I could miss such a thing. “I will not. This is how it should have always been.”

  Gregor tore across the throne room, I followed close behind, ignoring the bloodied heap of the king. Bron waved his arms over his body and I was tossed across the room in one blast of energy. Gregor landed next to me. His body striking where I was injured. I bit the inside of my cheek, but didn’t cry out. My eyes were only on Bron. Slowly, though, the High Priest bled into the darkness. He was gone. Mages had never done such a thing—simply disappearing—at least to my knowledge.

  Gregor gasped, clutching my shoulder. “Thane, we are overwhelmed with lindworms. But with the high priest on their side—we don’t stand a chance. We must evacuate our people. The new king and queen.”

  My heart thudded. Malik and Reya would be the next target. But there was one person needed to stand with us. “Where is the High Priestess?” I shouted.

  Gregor snarled. “I don’t know. And we don’t know if we can trust any mage. If she is not fighting against us, she is likely dead.”

  “We need her to fight against Bron.”

  Gregor growled, but to my surprise he didn’t disagree. “Then investigate on her welfare. I will go to Malik.” I turned immediately, only stopping when Gregor called out to me. “Thane, don’t shift. You’re wound is too great.” His eyes drifted to my side. “I need you tonight. Don’t die on me.”

  A dark, humorless chuckle escaped my throat. “I have no plans to die tonight.”

  The castle was burning. Pyre smoke from countless wyverns billowed through the hallways. I’d slipped through much of the wreckage quickly, as most of the fighting was breaking out on the lawns and through the gardens. It seemed the agony of losing the king filtered through the halls. It fueled a primal instinct in my warrior side—and by the cries of my fellow warriors they were much the same.

  Gaia’s door was closed, but the knob turned. Unlocked—it didn’t seem right. All my senses pricked to life, I listened for any sound, for any smell, anything that would implicate Gaia, or worse—reveal that she was dead.

  Nothing seemed out of order. There was no evidence of a skirmish between the two mages. My heart throbbed dangerously in my chest as I glared at the closed bedroom door. Gaia wouldn’t betray her people. I’d seen such genuine affection between the High Priestess and Reya. She wouldn’t do this. But then, I would never expect Bron to be party to the slaughter of King Lux. Swallowing the taste of blood on my tongue I stalked briskly toward Gaia’s bedroom. If she was alive and fighting with Bron, I would kill her, but if he’d already…killed her—the idea shot a sharp pang through my side. No, I wouldn’t think such things until I knew for certain.

  With a swift kick to her door, I rushed inside.

  My heart was lost in the back of my throat when I saw Gaia’s slender form tucked beneath the quilts along her large bed. She wasn’t moving. No, Bron wouldn’t. How could he kill his own wife? Her beautiful energy filled my soul still. Gaia was powerful, but I would never have any qualms calling her energy beautiful. Refusing to accept the truth I crept along the quilts, the soft mattress gave beneath my weight as I took her shoulders firmly in my hands. I shook her. A breath escaped her lips, I held mine, and shook her again.

  It took several firm shakes before Gaia’s eyes fluttered open. The peaceful golden shimmer darkened in panic when she locked onto my face. I could see the shadow of grime and blood coating my skin—I’m sure I looked frightening.

  Gaia shot up in her bed, clutching the quilts and blankets around her body as though I were the villain. If she only knew—I refused to believe she knew. “Thane, what in…what are you doing here…on my bed?”

  I studied the cup of half-drunk liquid next to her bed. Smelling it briefly, I winced. I was no mage, but I recognized the herbs used for deep sleep instantly. “You were placed in a sleep, Gaia. Come hurry!”

  “What? Where is Bron?” she said slowly, her words almost slurred but gaining power.

  I bent down and gathered the gilded robe of her title, and the powerful elemental blade. She would need it tonight. “Come Gaia, we’re under attack!”

  At my declaration, Gaia shot out of bed. I held her glare when she ripped the robe from my hands. Her eyes studied my bloodied body, my chest bared for her to take in, but it only added to her desperation in her features. “Attack! Who…who is attacking?”.

  “King Nag,” I hissed, turning toward the door.

  “The lindworms!” Gaia cried, I felt her concern for the mages, for the wyverns bleed through me and out into the hall. The High Priestess knew nothing of the attack. It pained me even more that I was the one left to tell her the truth. “How did they ever get inside our gates?”

  My grip heightened around the knob of the door. Every muscle pulsed in regret, concern for Gaia, hatred for Bron. “The Hight Priest, Gaia. Bron has betrayed us to the lindworms. King Lux is dead.”

  Chapter 9

  Gaia

  Fire engulfed the hallways in the castle. A wooden beam fell from above, nearly striking me but Thane lunged in front of me, pressing my back against the wall to keep me safe from the wreckage.

  “Thank you,” I breathed out, meeting his eye. Thane nodded curtly, his eyes focused and determined. He kept his long blade in his hand, the dragon pommel was stained in blood. “Thane, why aren’t you shifting? It isn’t as safe for you like this.”

  Thane glanced at me over his shoulder, shoving me in a crevice of the hallway. Something scratched along the stones, like iron scraping on iron. Thane’s body caged around mine, I felt the blood from his skin soaking my gilded robe, but I hardly cared. Hi
s breathing was haggard, but quiet. The intensity in Thane’s eyes when he met my gaze in the dark told me everything I needed to know. Stay silent, or die.

  From over the warrior’s shoulder I finally saw the maker of the unpleasant noise. A black, scuttling zomok wyvern. The lowliest of the wyvern race. King Nag’s only use for a zomok would be the green, poisonous pyre that could prove fatal for royal elemental dragons. The beast smelled sickly, like rotting wood in swampy soil. Zomok’s were small compared to lindworms or elementals. Its wings were curved and scrappy like thin parchment slung over broken branches, but it’s needle-like fangs snapped at the darkness. Zomok’s were poisonous and, at times, invisible to the wyvern eye. Mages, especially royal bloodline mages, could see through the invisible shield around the zomoks. Thane seemed sure something was coming down the corridor, though I couldn’t detect it he could see the serpent or not.

  I knew the beast’s weakness was hearing as I gently pointed in the direction of the zomok so Thane could gauge where to strike in case he couldn’t see the creature. The sickly, black snake was snapping at shadows since it could not hear an approaching predator. Which is exactly what Thane became.

  Stepping out from our hiding place, Thane lifted his sword above the slithering spine of the black beast. He had a clean shot, but the zomok turned. Its agility was surprising.

  “Thane, look out!” I shrieked, holding up my hands and blasting a protective shield of power between the warrior and zomok.

  I wasn’t swift enough because of the haze in my mind.

  With fangs dripping in thick saliva, the zomok lunged for Thane’s thigh. When the fangs stabbed through Thane’s armored legs, a bit of the green pyre dribbled from the back of the zomok’s throat and burned into his skin. Thane cursed angrily and backed away, his sword clattering along the stones. My mind was still a swirling bath of confusion, but at Thane’s cry I focused and acted. The zomok hadn’t given a direct shot, but surging Thane with more pyre, even if he was not a royal, would stop his heart. When the beast wound up once more for his fatal strike, I raised my palms, protective fury raging through my system.