Dragon Bones (The Dragonwalker Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  She pinched her mouth in a frown but didn’t say anything. She pushed on his back, sending him forward. Fes started after the firelight that he’d seen, and the longer he went, the more clearly he saw it. It began as little more than a hint of glow against the night, and the closer they came, the more obvious it was. Fes paused, not wanting to approach too quickly and waiting to see whether Alison would detect the same thing. It wasn’t until they were nearly upon it that she finally caught his arm.

  “Now you see it?” he whispered in her ear.

  She nodded. “How is it that you were able to see it so far away?”

  Fes shook his head. “Like I told you—”

  Stone shifted nearby.

  Fes had grown accustomed to the sound, having come to recognize when his feet were shifting in just such a way that the rock beneath his boots began to slip. It was the same sound.

  And it was near Alison.

  Fes pulled her behind him and spun, twisting toward a dark shadow that appeared through the haze.

  His dagger met resistance, and he cut up, intending to slice through whoever might be here. He held his hand in place, afraid to withdraw, and the person that he had attacked hung from the end of his dagger.

  Fes darted toward the person and grabbed them, lowering them to the ground.

  It was another mercenary, dressed much the same as the other, though this one carried a sword unsheathed.

  At least they were ready for whatever they might face.

  Alison crouched next to him. “I don’t know how you’re seeing through this haze.”

  “I don’t know either.”

  He continued toward the firelight. As they did, he stayed low, creeping on hands and knees, not wanting to be too exposed. Anyone who would be looking out into the darkness would be looking at head height, searching for anyone coming toward them, and would be much less likely to be looking down at the ground. And down at the ground, it was easier to remain hidden. The haze drifted up, masking them even more.

  The heat continued to build against him, but it wasn’t the same as what he had felt in the tunnels. It wasn’t a barrier that seemed to push against him so much as it wasn’t an unpleasant sort of heat. Maybe the fire mage was using some kind of magical spell to increase the haze of the dragon fields. If that were the case, why would she want to make it more difficult for the mercenaries to remain concealed?

  After another four steps, Fes saw the fire.

  It was difficult to see through the haze, almost as if what rose up from the rocks drifted around the fire itself, swirling toward the night. Muted voices drifted up toward the night, barely more than a murmuring. How many would be camped here?

  Fes remained in place, listening. Alison held onto his arm, and he glanced over at her. Neither of them spoke. Fes was afraid to say anything, and he was thankful that Alison didn’t attempt to whisper in his ear. It seemed as if doing so would put them in danger.

  After listening for another moment, he started forward again. As he did, the heat began to build. It was a barrier, a resistance, and it prevented him from getting too close to the campfire. The barrier was too much like what he’d detected when facing the fire mage to be anything different.

  She was powerful. He’d known that from facing her, but he could feel it, like a strange sensation that washed through him.

  He crawled back to where he and Alison had first waited. “I don’t think we can get through this barrier,” he whispered.

  “What barrier?”

  “The same barrier that we experienced in the tunnels.”

  “Didn’t you say that you cut through it?”

  Fes nodded. “I think that I can, but the moment that I do, I think we will expose our presence. We have to be ready, which means that we need to know exactly where Talmund is kept.”

  “We could search our way around the campsite.”

  It was a reasonable idea. So far, they had come across only two sentries, so even if they came across a few more, Fes thought that he could bring them down, allowing them a chance to stake out where the priest was held.

  As they made their way around the camp, the haze became no easier to see through. Fes continued to keep his daggers squeezed tightly in hand, afraid to release them and afraid to use them, not wanting to slice at the air and reveal themselves.

  Alison stayed close, crouching next to him, and she did move more silently than he could. It was evident in the way that she controlled her breathing much better than Fes. He was breathing heavily, though not necessarily panting. It was a steady breathing, and he strained to keep it under control but didn’t think that he managed as well as he wanted.

  The haze surrounded the entire encampment. It was more than just the haze that surrounded everything, it was the sense of the power—and the flame—that built around them. Fes half expected to see the fire mage but saw no evidence of her. Wherever she was, she remained hidden and hidden enough that he could not see her.

  They had made a nearly complete circle of the encampment when they came across another sentry. This time, Fes wasn’t quick enough.

  The man hollered out. Fes noted his position and jumped at him, stabbing him in the chest with one of his daggers as he reached for the sentry’s mouth, clamping a hand across it.

  Fes grabbed Alison, and they scrambled back, moving around the circle and away from the sentry. If they were lucky, the mercenaries would track this man back to the others, and maybe leave the camp altogether, but Fes doubted that they would be lucky.

  When they had circled what seemed to be halfway around the encampment, coming at it from the other angle, they waited.

  The men in the camp were talking quietly to each other. Or maybe it only seemed that way. It could be that the men were talking excitedly, but he couldn’t hear them with the muted sound of their voices.

  “We have to do it now. They know we’re here and any longer…” Fes took a deep breath. He readied himself and looked at where he knew the campfire would be. “Are you ready?”

  Alison nodded. “Let’s see what we can find.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Fes slashed at the air, cutting at it with his daggers, no longer sure whether it made a difference or not, but he had a sense that doing so would help him get free from the haze and the barrier that prevented him from reaching the campsite. As he slashed through it, a sizzling sort of energy dissipated.

  That was a first. When he had faced the fire mage before, he’d not felt anything other than the heat from her magic. What did it mean that he was able to detect her magic as it dissipated?

  He scrambled forward, and the campfire came into view.

  They reached a clearing and, once inside it, the haze faded. It was still there but almost as if pushed back by the campfire. Fes raced forward and looked around the campsite. He reached the fire, but there was no one there. He could smell roasting meat and ale from whatever keg the mercenaries had managed to bring with them.

  “You think all of them left?”

  “I don’t know how all of them would have. They would’ve left—“

  The sense of movement nearby startled him, and Fes spun, lashing out with his daggers as he did. They cut into a man’s belly, slicing him open as he appeared out of the haze that still surrounded the camp.

  Alison’s eyes widened, and she kept her sword unsheathed, moving in a stance that put her at the ready.

  Fes scanned the encampment. It was little more than a row of small tents, not enough to hide someone. Where would they have been keeping the priest? There had to be a place for him, but it would have to be somewhere that he could remain secured, and that wouldn’t necessarily be by the fire.

  Fes started away from the campfire, moving into the darkness and making his way quickly. They wouldn’t have much time. If Carter was with the mercenaries here—and Fes suspected that she was—then Carter would recognize the dagger wounds.

  It meant that he needed to move even more quickly.

  He a
nd Alison spiraled out from the campfire. The haze around everything made it difficult for them to see clearly and they hurried, wanting nothing more than to figure out what else might be in this encampment.

  They encountered another soldier, and Fes barely had time to block with his daggers. Alison slipped around, slicing through him with her sword. Fes had a moment to marvel at her speed and grace before another attack came, the man sliding toward them with the same speed the first had shown. Both men were dressed the same, crimson colors that made it seem as if they served the emperor, and both were armed with swords.

  A troubling thought came to him. Could they actually be the emperor’s men?

  With a fire mage involved, it was possible.

  Could he have made a mistake?

  “I don’t think that we have much time,” Alison said.

  Fes shook his head. “I don’t think we do either.”

  They still hadn’t seen any evidence of the fire mage. Wherever she was, however she was making this haze that hung over everything, he had not discovered the key to it. If she was nearby, somehow hiding from him, he needed to find her, if only because he suspected the priest would be with her—if he were to be found anywhere in this encampment.

  They continued their spiral outward, and Fes realized that they had reached the part of the camp from which they had started.

  He nearly stumbled over the fallen century.

  Fes glanced at the fire. The campfire, the haze that he saw, was no different, but there was nothing else that would explain how many men might have been here. There were far too many sentries for the number of men he’d heard disappearing into the night.

  Unless…

  Fes grabbed Alison and pulled her back.

  “What is it?”

  “I think we made a mistake,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I think that they are—“

  A dozen men approached from the far side of the camp. They moved quickly, swords blazing, catching the reflected firelight. Fes slipped the first attack but barely missed the second. The sword that swung past him whistled through the air, nearly taking off his head. He dropped to his knees and rolled, sweeping up with his daggers, driving them at the nearest attacker.

  Where was Alison?

  He rolled over and saw one of the men swinging his sword behind her.

  Fes lunged, unable to suppress the scream of anger that surged through him. He swiped out with the daggers, sweeping one down, and he stabbed the man in the back, jerking the dagger free as he kicked at one of the next men who approached.

  Alison glanced over her shoulder and realized that he was there. She nodded to him, and Fes jumped, driving his shoulder into an attacker, dropping him to the ground. He swung out with his blades, sweeping them across the next man and managing to cut him down.

  How many were left?

  “There’s too many of them,” Fes said, backing up to Alison.

  “We need to find Talmund,” she said, hacking with her sword, sweeping around as she cut down another.

  “If we’re dead, we won’t be able to find anything.”

  Alison jabbed with her sword, and the man who was attempting to cut into her was forced back, ducking under the sweep of her blade.

  Fes hurried forward, getting in front of her and sweeping out with his daggers. Each time that he did, he managed to somehow diminish the haze.

  There had to be something here. Regardless of what they had seen, the presence of the fire mage and her magic was enough to tell him they had something they needed to protect, even if he couldn’t see it.

  Only, what was it?

  “Where will we go?” Alison said, backing into him.

  Fes didn’t know. They thought to hide on the dragon plains, but how well would they be able to remain concealed? After leaving the horses, could they return to the rebels?

  Fes hesitated.

  It was only a moment, but it was enough. One of the swordsmen got close—almost close enough to strike him—and he turned at the last moment, bringing his daggers around and catching the sword blade between them. Fes twisted them, and the blade snapped. He stabbed the man in the chest, taking a moment to look around.

  These men wouldn’t be here alone, which meant that this was only a distraction. This was part of Carter’s plan. This camp hadn’t been the only camp. It couldn’t be. If it was, where was Carter? Where was the fire mage?

  Carter was testing the rebellion. That had to be what it was.

  And she had Talmund. Maybe Theole.

  The idea of that angered Fes in a way that he hadn’t felt before.

  Rage boiled within him, and he struck.

  He jumped, twisting around, cutting with his daggers, sweeping from side to side, carving through the mercenaries. Each time he swept around, he diminished the haze and was increasingly able to see more clearly.

  And then all of the mercenaries were down. There was no one else to fight.

  He paused, looking around before wiping his daggers on one of the fallen men. He took a few deep breaths, steadying his breathing as he looked over at Alison.

  “Is that it?” he asked.

  “So far,” she said.

  “Good, because I think this was only the first wave.”

  “What you mean?”

  “Only that I think this was designed to draw us in. Where are the horses? Where are the other men? Where is the fire mage, and Talmund?”

  Alison’s eyes widened slightly. “You don’t think that she would do that.”

  Fes looked around. “You mean sacrifice her men in this way? Carter is clever. This is exactly the kind of thing that she would do, especially if she intended to use this camp as a way of determining when the rebels might attack.”

  “Why?”

  “For starters, I doubt she thought there would be much of a challenge. I suspect whatever the fire mage is doing is enough that it obscures the possibility of an attack. She probably thought they weren’t in any danger and that there wasn’t a chance that anyone would be able to get in and challenge them.”

  And instead, it had only taken the two of them. Once again, Fes had allowed himself to be wrapped up in the anger, letting it consume him. Each time he had allowed himself to embrace that rage within him, he had helped them survive something that they would not have otherwise.

  What did that mean?

  Was that what it was to be Deshazl?

  It was more reason to find the priest—and return to Azithan.

  “Where do you think they are?”

  Fes shook his head. It would have to be nearby, wouldn’t it? If the fire mage were causing this, she would need to be close enough in proximity to be able to create that effect.

  But where?

  “I don’t think we can remain here,” Fes said. “She’ll know I cut through her spells.”

  Alison looked around the clearing. “Maybe we should,” she said.

  “You want to draw the fire mage to us?”

  “I don’t really want to, but think about it. We don’t know where she is. We don’t know where the rest of the mercenaries are. But if she knows that you were here, don’t you think that they would be sending others?”

  “What happens when they come in even more numbers?”

  “With your ability to see through this,” she said, looking up at him with an intrigued expression, “we might be able to see what else they are planning.”

  Fes didn’t like her plan, but mostly because it meant that he had to rely upon abilities he didn’t know how to control. And they had to be abilities, didn’t they?

  Alison watched him, and he nodded. They made their way to the edge of the soldiers’ camp, the edge of the haze, and though it wasn’t nearly as present now as it had been before, there still was enough that drifted up out of the ground, as if the dragon fields were everything that rumors had claimed them to be. They crouched behind a few small rocks and waited.

  Fes wondered how long they would ha
ve to wait. Neither he nor Alison said anything, almost as if both of them had an unspoken agreement to remain silent, worried about whether breaking that silence would betray their presence.

  He didn’t have to wait too long.

  At first, Fes noted only a strange shimmering of the haze, almost as if shadows tried to push through it. It came slowly, but eventually, it parted the haziness, and he counted the soldiers as they appeared. Ten, then twenty, then thirty soldiers appeared. All were heavily armed.

  If they turned their attention to him and Alison, if they somehow discovered them, then they would be trapped. Likely, they would be killed.

  Alison leaned in and mouthed a question in his ear. “Did you see which direction they came from?”

  Fes pointed but wasn’t sure that where he pointed was right. That was where the shadows seemed to come around the haze, but was that where he had actually seen them appear? It could have been anywhere. For that matter, they could have been circling around them, waiting to see whether anyone else would appear. Maybe they had approached the same way in which Fes and Alison had.

  Either way, Fes stayed in place, barely willing to move. They watched as the soldiers continued to make a circle of the clearing, coming within a few paces of Fes and Alison. Somehow, they overlooked them. When they were done, they started back out.

  They were mostly silent, but every so often, they would make enough noise that he could hear them. Alison sat stiffly next to him, trying not to move, and trying not to even breathe. He could feel the way that she resisted the urge to take a breath, unwilling to do anything that might make the men aware of their presence.

  And then they were gone.

  Fes got up and hurried out into the darkness as he followed them. He moved as quietly as he could, and even then, he still didn’t know whether he was completely quiet, not as he wanted to be. Alison did a much better job and managed to conceal the way her feet slid across the stone much better than he did. For his part, he would occasionally slip, and each time that he did, he was aware of the sound that his feet made. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anyone noticing him.