Wrath of Dragons (Elderealm Book 1)

by Scott King

  "You going to do something about this?" Edgar looked at Gideon while rubbing the back of his skull. "You're my protector."

  Gideon shrugged.

  "I fear another whacking, but I have to ask," Edgar said. "Do you think we stand a chance?"

  "Maybe." Owen looked across the city and then turned northwest as if seeing something they couldn't. "I don't see the branching paths. I never have, but I know we have faced worse, and yet here we still stand."

  "It's different this time." Edgar sighed and followed Owen's gaze to the horizon. "We no longer have the weight of the world on our shoulders. For once, we have to rely on others to save us."

  "They are good kids," Owen said.

  "I remember being that age." Edgar ran a hand along his stubbled chin. "I'm not sure if they think of themselves as kids."

  "I got a few years on them." Owen chuckled. "They will always be kids to me."

  "I spent so long trying to protect Alex," Edgar said.

  "You spent?" Gideon smirked.

  "You know what I mean," Edgar said. "We did our best to keep her out of this for as long as we could. I wish she didn't have to face these responsibilities."

  "Carter is the closest thing I have ever had to a child of my own." Owen shook his head. "No, that's not right. Carter is my son. Maybe not by blood, but he is my son, and I know how you feel. We raise them and guide them as best we can, but in the end, they must make their own paths."

  "Most parents don't have the Sisters meddling with their children's fates," Gideon said. "So you two can't blame yourselves entirely."

  Owen and Edgar nodded, and silence overcame the three men as they stared at the abandoned city.

  At last count, Gideon determined they had roughly six thousand soldiers to defend Elene. With Elene's fortification, the water reserve, and overall design, six thousand could outlast a siege for years. Six thousand would be meaningless against an army of dragons.

  "It will never be the same," Edgar said. "These are Elene's final days."

  Gideon followed Edgar's gaze. The king was looking west across the inner ward and the deserted streets.

  "Oh posh." Owen thwapped Edgar again with his cane. "You think I'd be here if I didn't have a trick or two up my sleeves?"

  "No," Gideon said in protest. He saw where things were going, and he didn't like it. "Don't even think about it."

  "You got a better option?" Owen gave Gideon a cold stare. "We need to stall, and I can't think of a better way to hold the dragons at bay."

  "The last time you did it, you almost killed everyone in the city."

  "It's different. There aren't hundreds of people crowding inside. We won't go through the air as fast."

  "What are you two talking about?" Edgar asked.

  "I'll show you." Owen said.

  Entering the palace, Owen led Edgar and Gideon up a staircase to the main residence. Their footsteps sounded extra loud without the other usual noises radiating through the building.

  "The passage Alex used to sneak out of the castle, you knew of it, correct?" Owen asked.

  "Of course," Edgar said. "I've been using it since I was younger than she is."

  "It's not the only secret your home has." Owen paused at the top of the stairs to catch his breath.

  "I know about the one in the left wing too." Edgar offered his arm for Owen to use as support, but the magician ignored it.

  "Oh do you?" Owen said. "What about the one in the great hall or the front courtyard?"

  Edgar narrowed his eyes and glanced from Owen to Gideon.

  Gideon laughed.

  "Sure, give it away." Owen threw up his hands, acting as if he were annoyed, but Gideon knew he wasn't. He was enjoying this as much as they all were. Sometimes, specially when facing something bad it's nice to have those you consider family by your side.

  "There is more to the place than the two exits," Owen said. "I built several safe rooms, a secret vault, and the chamber we will be visiting today."

  "You built?" Edgar said.

  "You think a place like this organically evolves?" Owen said. "I designed Elene and named it."

  "I thought by now I knew all your secrets," Edgar said. "I'm impressed."

  "Elene was an impressive woman." Owen's cane clanked on the palace's marble floors. "Honoring her memory was the least I could do."

  Gideon felt that was an understatement. She was by far Owen's better half, and Gideon missed her. There were lots of people he missed, but he especially missed Elene.

  As they reached a long corridor, Owen turned to enter the palace libraries. It was dark, and Owen spoke something softly. Instantly the lamps in the ceiling sprung to life. Gideon knew the library was small. Smaller than the records house in the city, smaller than the great library in Compitum. Smaller than Owen's personal library, its high ceiling made the room feel open. Books covered the outer walls, and the golden-rust tones of the shelves and furniture gave the library a welcoming feeling.

  Owen walked to the dead-center point of the library. He muttered something, and a set of chairs and reading table hovered then scooted out of the way before gently landing again. Etched into the stone floor was an old Dunder saying, and below it was a symbol that looked like a circle with a triangle in it. Owen placed his palm over the triangle. The etchings shone with a brilliant silver light, and then the stone shifted, revealing a narrow staircase.

  "What did you say to open it?" Edgar asked.

  "Nothing," Owen said. "It recognized me by my blood."

  Only once had Gideon visited the hidden chamber. He did not like the idea of visiting it again.

  The stairs descended less than thirty steps and opened into a round room that was no bigger than a wagon. It was such a tight fit that Gideon stood on the stairs so Edgar and Owen could enter without having to stand pressed against each other.

  "This is the secret to Elene's defense," Owen brushed his hands on the curved walls. The stone was black and smooth.

  "I know your love for showmanship," Edgar said. "But for once, can you give me a real explanation?"

  Owen flicked his wrists at the walls. They buzzed with energy and then came alive, offering a perfect view of Elene from the highest tower of the palace.

  "What is it?" Edgar asked.

  "It's an amplifier in a sense," Owen said. "It will allow me to convert my own magic and strength into a barrier. Once up it won't let anything in or out of Elene."

  "Including air!" Gideon hoped that Owen remembered how important breathing was. "The last blasted time he had it going, half of the city's population fainted from lack of air, including Owen! Then no one could turn it off."

  "I woke up before anyone died," Owen said defensively.

  "You sound like Carter," Gideon said.

  A proud smile slipped across Owen's face.

  "How much time can you buy us with this thing?" Edgar ran a hand along the smooth reflective wall.

  "Depends on the dragons and how many people we have inside the city," Owen said. "The last time, we had the walls packed with people, and it took us over a week to run out of air."

  "A week, that's it?" Edgar let out a long sigh.

  "It will be far less this time," Owen said. "Every time a dragon tests the barrier, I'll feel it, and it will weaken me. At best, I'll buy us a few days."

  Gideon lay in bed wearing only his skivvies with the window shutters tied open. Sweat ran down his temples. It was as if summer was refusing to let go of its hold on the southern lands, proving it could stay for a bit longer. Not that the seasons were living personifications like other beings he had come across.

  The door to Gideon's chamber creaked. A warm orb of light floated in. Behind it, staggered a tired looking Owen. Gone was his cane. Instead, he held a bottle and two glasses.

  "Time for a drink." Owen held up the bottle

  The light was too dim for Gideon to be able to read it.

  "Depends," Gideon said. "What are we drinking."

  "Have I taught you not
hing? It's never the what that matters. It's always the why."

  Gideon climbed out of bed. For a moment, he thought of throwing on more clothes, but ultimately it was hot, and he knew Owen cared little about nudity.

  "What's the why this time?" Gideon cleared his lute from a table and pulled out a seat for Owen.

  "I'm thirsty, and it's been awhile since we had a chance to sit and talk."

  "And?"

  "And..." Owen sat slumped over in the chair, letting out a deep breath. "And I'm worried. Worried about things that only you and I can talk about."

  "Time?"

  "No, the Weird Sisters." Owen snapped his fingers, and the bottle's cork popped. The bottle then lifted of its own accord and filled the two glasses.

  Gideon lifted his drink and smelled it. Honey bourbon. He took a sip, and caramel with cinnamon ran across his tongue. There could be no mistake. It was a Lockhaven vintage. His favorite. One he hadn't tasted for a long time.

  "What about them?" Gideon asked.

  "They are playing both sides."

  "They always do."

  "So which side is in the right? Medrayt and his army or ours?"

  Gideon swished his glass and took another swill.

  Gideon knew how the Sisters thought. They dealt with the big picture, and often the little things meant nothing to them. They did not care who they had to hurt or what the consequences of their actions were as long as the possible outcomes became more favorable. Because of this, there was no way of knowing which of the pawns in motion would create the outcome they desired.

  "I don't know," Gideon said.

  "That's what I feared. We could be the side they want to lose. The children could be hurdles that are merely meant to make Medrayt stronger for overcoming them."

  "They could."

  "So what do we do?"

  "We do what we've always done." Gideon finished his bourbon and poured himself another glass. "We put up a fight. We do what we believe is right, and we hope for the best."

  34

  The Crimson Plains

  Ulesday, 12th of Winewen, 1162.111

  Carter felt the cold before he felt anything else. Not a chill or a breeze, but an aching freeze that caused his whole body to shiver. With each twinge, small hard things bit into his sides. He suspected they were wrents, but the only way to know for sure was to sit up.

  "Hey sunshine." Alex sat on a stone eating something he couldn't identify. It sounded wet, but the sky was so dark that he had trouble making it out.

  "We made it," Carter said.

  The last bit of dusk, hovered over the mountains in the distance while the stars above shone brightly. Seeing them for the first time in weeks brought a sense of comfort that Carter hadn't known he had missed.

  "We made it." Doug also sat on a rock, a different rock than Alex. Why were there so many rocks, and why was he on the ground shivering? "Where are we, and why is it so blasted cold?"

  "Urmon is somewhere that way." Alex pointed to the mountain range. "We are on the Crimson Plains. It's always cold here."

  "How is that possible?" He knew the Grekers had kept them drugged and then there was the time on the raft, but could that account for their being so far from Compitum? After he fainted, he didn't know what had happened. There was a chance he had been out for an extended time.

  "It just is." Alex finished what she was eating. She reached into a bag and tossed something apple-sized to Carter. It was long and gave way to squeezing.

  He bit into it.

  It was... he wasn't sure what it was. The waxiness of its skin coated his teeth while the tangy juices ran down his scratchy throat. The pulp inside was savory with a hint of sage. His stomach churned not out of protest, but in demand. He was starving. "Can I have another and why is it cold? Start a fire or we will freeze to death."

  "Find us something that will burn, and we will burn it," Doug said.

  Carter couldn't see a dang thing past the rings of stone, so he traced kölprufta.

  Nothing happened.

  He had drawn kölprufta thousands of times. He could do it in the dark and maybe in his sleep. He couldn't have messed up, could he?

  He traced the agyl again, going more slowly and paying attention to each stroke. Again, nothing happened when he finished. Dropping his hands so as not to attract Doug's and Alex's attention, he proceeded to draw all eighteen of the main agyls, and not a one sprung to life.

  Practically anyone could draw an agyl, whether they knew higher magic or not. All it took was time and determination. So why couldn't he draw one now?

  "Prösenta," he said in a whisper so the others couldn't hear. There was no buildup of energy within himself. There was no shaping the air to his will. There was only silence. His magic was gone.

  "What did you say?" Doug asked. "I couldn't make it out."

  "Just cursing," Carter said. He couldn't let the others know. Not now at least. Not until he figured out what was going on. "There's nothing out there to burn is there?"

  "Nope," Alex said. "Just us, the stars, and too many rocks."

  Owen had warned him over and over again about burning out. That wielding too much power could cut off a magician's connection to magic. Was his connection cut? He could feel it. He could sense the way of things. It taunted him. Maybe he needed more time to rest. More time to heal? "What time is it? I'm feeling wiped already."

  "Less than two hours after sunset," Alex said. "We had to stop 'cause twinkle toes here has trouble walking in the dark."

  "You try carrying a limp kid while walking in the dark through an endless field of rocks. Too much of a chance I'd drop him and do more damage."

  "I'm just giving you a hard time," Alex said.

  "Well don't." Doug grumbled.

  Alex laughed.

  "I'm going to lie down for a bit," Carter said.

  "We got no beds, blankets, or anything," Doug said. "Tuck as close to the rocks as you can and whichever of us isn't on watch will put their back to yours."

  Carter moved between the rocks that Doug and Alex sat on and lay down, bringing his knees to his chest.

  Carter woke well before morning and offered to take the final watch to allow Doug to get some extra sleep. Doug wasn't willing at first, but upon reminding the former dragon how he had carried Carter for what turned out to be four days, he agreed to nap.

  Once he was sure that Alex and Doug were fast asleep, Carter crept away from the camp. Not too far. He didn't want to get lost, but far enough so that he could speak without being heard. There he went through the training that Owen had taught him so long ago. He meditated, lowering his heart rate and slowing his breathing, and he focused on the power inside of himself.

  Magic had always been easy for him. He could access it with a thought. It consisted of gathering his will, shaping it with words and intent, and then releasing it. That's it. Yet now, no matter what he did, he couldn't gather it. It was there, but it felt like a wall or doorway had locked it away.

  Carter retrieved the spellstone that the Sisters had given him. It was flat, like a sand dollar, and small enough to fit in his palm with his fingers folded down to cover it. Words had been carved into it. He didn't know what they meant, nor did he know the language. The Sisters made him memorize the pronunciation, so even now, he could clearly say the words in his head.

  He needed his magic not because of ego or self worth, but because without it, without the ability to cast the spell burned into the stone, all of this would be meaningless. Without magic, he couldn't free the dragons, and they would be powerless to stop Medrayt.

  "What are you doing?" Alex stood on a rock, waving. In the golden light of the rising sun, she looked beautiful. He had grown to like her smile, and he couldn't help but think of how disappointed she would be when she learned he was powerless.

  "I'm hungry." Carter slid the spellstone back into his travel pouch, hoping Alex hadn't noticed he had been looking at it. "I was looking for food."

  "You won't find any.
This place is a wasteland."

  "You sure? I thought I saw a mouse or–"

  "Trust me."

  He stood and made his way back to the camp. The sun was barely over the horizon, but its light struck the bleached white plains around them. For as far as he could see, there was nothing but white earth speckled with rocks. "I know you said we were on the Crimson plains, but all I see is white. You sure you know where we are?"

  "Don't," Doug said with a grumble in his voice. His eyes were puffy with big bags. "You know how much history she knows about this place? It's all she's talked about for days."

  "I'm surprised Owen didn't cover it." Alex cocked her head sideways. "You messing with me?"

  "No," Carter said, trying to sound sincere. "Owen is not a fan of human history. Says all it comes down to a list of people doing bad things. It's why I've spent so much time studying pre-Scourge history."

  "You are in for a treat." Alex hopped off a rock and picked up her bags. "Today I'm going to tell you all about the fall of Lockhaven."

  "Oh I know about Lockhaven," Carter said. "They used to be the kingdom north of Arwyn."

  "Everything above the Nox River was part of Lockhaven till about five hundred years ago," Alex said. "See, back then–"

  "Not again," Doug said. "You told it once. I listened. I know being human means being polite and considerate, but I can't handle it."

  "Was the story that boring?" Carter asked.

  "It was about humans who fought other humans, all of which are dead and don't matter. There was a big battle, and it was so nasty that it soured the earth and stained the ground." Doug lowered his voice and then cranked it up again in a dramatic way. "Hence the name, 'Crimson Plains.'"

  "You prat!" Alex said. "You spoiled the ending."

  "It was clear within the first ten minutes of you telling me about it. You really suck at telling stories." Doug grabbed his own gear and moved east, walking away from the mountains. "Let's go, day burning."

  "If I'm so awful at telling stories, then let's see you do better." Alex hurried ahead to catch up with Doug. "If you don't like human history then awe us with something about dragon history or your own past."