The Dragon King (The Alaris Chronicles Book 3)

by Mike Shelton

  “What can we do?” Jaimon asked.

  “I don’t know,” squeaked Leopold. “Ever since our Sanctuary commander became ill last month, strange things have been happening.”

  Alli turned to Jaimon. “Do you think it’s him?”

  Jaimon nodded. “It could be. He is here on the grounds somewhere. I can feel it.”

  “Who, Dragon Rider?” Leopold asked.

  Alli didn’t want to give too much information out. They still didn’t know for sure who to trust. This could be a trap.

  “Just a man we are looking for.”

  Leopold didn’t question this response.

  Before they could say anything more, they heard voices from down toward the dock. From a small garden hill, they could see the dock area. A boat had landed, and coming out of it were a half dozen guards from Margarid, who seemed intent on looking for something.

  Leopold motioned Alli and Jaimon down another path as he said, “This way.”

  They followed the old man, not knowing what else to do. Alli continued to glance behind herself. But they had not been discovered yet.

  Then Leopold led them to the back of one of the Sanctuary’s buildings and in through a back door. There were few windows inside, and Alli sneezed from all the dust in the air.

  Where is Leopold taking us? Alli thought, her senses on full alert.

  Hearing sounds from outside of the building, the three hurried faster down a flight of stairs. At the bottom, a few old, lighted lamps were staggered down a hallway, casting eerie shadows on the white wooden walls.

  Jaimon stopped.

  “What is it?” Alli asked.

  “I feel him,” he whispered.

  Angry, Alli turned to Leopold and said, “Where are you taking us?”

  The man’s face reddened. “To safety. You must trust me.”

  “I don’t trust anyone easily,” Alli said. “It’s not in my nature.” Alli drew one of her swords and held it out in front of her. “If this is a trap, you will regret it, Leopold.”

  The man’s eyes opened wide. “It’s not a trap,” he said. “I am taking you to someone you can trust.”

  Jaimon gave a grave look to Alli.

  She nodded and drew out her second sword. “Who are you taking us to?”

  Then Leopold smiled, but his forehead was beaded with sweat. “We have been waiting a long time for you, Dragon Rider.”

  Behind them, and up the stairs, they heard the guards entering through the back door.

  “Someone is here,” one of them said. “I see footprints.”

  Alli pushed Leopold forward with a growl and said, “Hurry then. If you can bring us to safety, let’s go. If not, then I will have your head first.”

  Alli heard the man swallow hard. As he turned down two more hallways and then led them down another flight of stairs, Alli extinguished the lamps and smoothed out the footprints in the dust behind them. They were underground now, and the air felt even cooler. She hoped her efforts would be enough to fool the guards.

  At the bottom of the stairs, they came to a dead end with a door in their way. But Leopold reached forward and knocked with a peculiar rhythm.

  Alli turned to Jaimon and put a hand on his arm. The boy was clearly frightened and was almost shaking.

  “Is he in there?” she asked Jaimon.

  Jaimon shook his head. “I don’t think so. He is somewhere above us.”

  Alli relaxed only slightly.

  Then the door in front of them opened, and the three of them were admitted into a small, lighted room. Then the door was closed behind them.

  In the center of the room sat a table that was about six feet square, and around the table sat eight men and women. Alli reached out her senses. Some in the room were wizards, but not all. Her swords remained in her hands, and she took note of where her knives were hidden inside her clothes.

  “I have brought him to you,” Leopold said to the group.

  As one, they arose and, after bowing, they spoke in unison: “Hail the dragon rider.”

  Alli felt Jaimon jump behind her. She turned and motioned him forward. “Looks like they like you, Jaimon.”

  Jaimon took two steps forward, gave a short return bow, and asked, “Who are you?”

  A middle-aged woman in the middle of the group smiled and brought her hands out to encompass the group as she said, “We are the Followers of the Dragon, a secret ancient society that protects dragon lore and prepares for the next dragon rider. We have waited a long time for you, Dragon Rider.”

  Jaimon put his hands on the table in front of him, to steady himself. “But…but…” he said as he struggled to find the words. “But how did you know I would be here?”

  One of the men motioned toward the back of the room, and another door opened up on its own. A brighter light poured in from the new room. Then the group began walking, and Leopold led Jaimon and Alli behind them.

  Alli gasped when she entered the new room. She could sense power in the room. On a table against one wall sat three books and a few figurines, and empty shelves filled two of the other walls.

  Jaimon walked to the table and picked up a small carving. It was of a green dragon and his rider. The artifact was only about six inches tall, but the detail was amazing. In silence, he turned it around in his hand. Then his eyes went wide, and he almost dropped it.

  “It’s me,” Jaimon said as he showed the figure to Alli.

  Looking more closely at it, Alli saw that sitting on the dragon was a dark-haired young man with a long ponytail.

  “How can that be?” Jaimon asked.

  Alli moved to protect Jaimon, her swords still in her hands. “What do you want with the dragon rider? What is he to you?”

  The woman who had spoken earlier took a step forward. “Allison, isn’t it? We have heard of the famous young Battlemaster from Alaris. You have made quite a name for yourself already.”

  Alli opened her eyes wider, but she stayed quiet. Had people in Quentis truly heard of her?

  “My name is Lea. You honor us with your presence, as a companion of the dragon riders,” the woman said and bowed her head to Alli. “We mean you no harm. The dragon rider has been prophesied for hundreds of years. During a time of great need to our kingdom, a prophesied dragon rider would rise out of Quentis, the first from our land in five hundred years.”

  A man stepped forward and prostrated himself on the ground toward Jaimon and then said, “Dragon Rider, we have protected the prophecies and awaited this day. We are at your command.”

  One by one, each man and woman, including Leopold, knelt with their heads to the floor.

  Jaimon looked at Alli, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. He shrugged his shoulders at not knowing what he should do.

  Alli sheathed her swords and patted Jaimon on the back. “Looks like you are famous already, Jaimon. Maybe they can help us.”

  “Of course.” He cleared his throat and, with a reddening face, said to the group, “Please rise. No need to bow to me. My name is Jaimon Schafer.”

  The group rose from their knees and approached Jaimon with apparent awe. They repeated his name and gathered him in their arms, leading him over to a dark brown, stuffed chair in the corner of the room. They offered him this seat and then sat on the floor in front of him.

  Alli almost laughed at the deference they were giving the young man. Jaimon was hardly more than a kid and very much untried in the ways of the world. But he did have a good heart, and Alli couldn’t bear to see him suffer any more under their scrutiny.

  Clearing her throat, Alli directed their attention back to her. “People of the dragon,” she began.

  “Followers of the Dragon,” interrupted a man.

  Alli controlled herself by not rolling her eyes as she said, “Followers of the Dragon, then, we are on a special mission from Bakari, our dragon master.”

  With that statement, the group held their tongues and paid attention.

  Alli continued, “We are searching for a
man who is very dangerous. Based on what we have heard of what is happening here and on Jaimon’s ability to track him, we believe that man is here, in the Sanctuary.”

  “What does he look like, Battlemaster?” Someone from the group said.

  “That’s the problem,” Alli said as she shook her head. “He is like a chameleon. He takes the form of different people. So we must be very careful.”

  Then Leopold spoke up. “The city guard is here, looking for the dragon rider and his companion.”

  “Why would they be looking for us?” Alli asked. “If need be, we can hide until this is all straightened out… But you can’t hide a dragon,” Alli said, turning to Jaimon. “What do you think, Dragon Rider?”

  As the group turned their attention back to Jaimon, awaiting his words, Alli hoped the poor boy could deal with all the attention.

  Jaimon seemed to be thinking for a moment and then looked around the room. “You seem to have gathered a few magical artifacts here,” he said. “I am not a wizard, but I can guess that some of you are. What powers are contained in this room?”

  A man in the back stood up and said, “I am Devin and am the keeper of the artifacts for the Followers of the Dragon. Over centuries, we have searched for and collected what artifacts we could find. We know there are more—records say there were more artifacts that disappeared about five hundred years ago. These are all we could find. But we have protected them with our lives. They are all at your disposal. They are intended to be used by a dragon rider to augment his or her powers.”

  Alli knew about the dangers of magical artifacts from those stored under the Citadel. She hoped they would fare better with these, for they might need that help to face the Chameleon.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Breelyn Mier was flying her dragon, Miriel, over the Elvyn Forest and into Alaris. She had stayed in Elvyn a few days, making sure that Lan was being taken care of. She wiped a few tears from her eyes, trying to get control of her feelings and thoughts. She couldn’t forget the pain she had caused Lan, her betrothed. She had always been talented at healing, but now her talent was tainted by the darkness.

  Breelyn, what is wrong? Miriel asked through the bond. She had the ability to discern Breelyn’s thoughts, and, after four months together, they understood each other well.

  The darkness, Breelyn said to her dragon. It’s always at the edge of my vision now. I can’t shake it.

  Breelyn felt Miriel push some dragon power into her, and she gasped. Everything around her became clearer. Looking down at the meadows of central Alaris, Breelyn could even discern each blade of grass and sense the smells of early summer wafting up to her.

  You are amazing! Breelyn said as she patted Miriel’s back. And the darkness had subsided somewhat.

  Passing over the Citadel in the evening, Breelyn decided to stop and take her evening meal with Roland. She wanted to make sure the High Wizard’s powers were returning. The man was resilient, if anything…unless he was just putting on a good front.

  Breelyn took her dragon down and landed in the courtyard. And the guards on the ground bowed to her and were more than happy to take her to see Roland.

  Soon she sat with Roland at a private table in the corner of the Citadel’s dining room. Other wizards in the room tried not to look in their direction, but Breelyn knew that they were by the small whispers that circled the room.

  Spreading some jam on more freshly baked bread, she watched Roland dig into a second piece of seared beef. She scrunched her nose up in distaste.

  “And how are your powers?” she asked.

  “Bakari said they will return, so I trust him,” Roland said. “The farther from Elvyn I got, the more I could feel my powers deep down inside me.”

  “So you blame Elvyn?” Breelyn spat out. Then she shook her head in apology. She didn’t know what had made her say that.

  “I blame the Chameleon,” Roland said. “Are you all right, Breelyn?”

  “I’m sorry. I am not very good company tonight.” Breelyn stood up from the meal. Others in the room, along with Roland, also stood up, in respect for her station as a dragon rider.

  “I just need to sleep,” she explained.

  * * *

  Dark dreams plagued her the entire night, and Breelyn woke up feeling more tired than when she had gone to bed. Walking outside, to meet her dragon and continue her trip to Solshi, Breelyn blinked in the bright sunlight. The glare was giving her an immediate headache.

  Walking to the edge of the practice yard, Breelyn observed the numerous apprentices and wizards training now in the Citadel. The number was much more than they had in Elvyn, and Breelyn worried about the growing power of Alaris in the region. Historically, their wizards were hungry for power, and their current leader, Roland, was no exception.

  Thinking of the High Wizard seemed to bring him to her. For Roland walked out of the Citadel right then, his gold cape billowing around him and a contingent of wizards and apprentices attending to him. Breelyn wondered if this seventeen-year-old would be satisfied with only running the Citadel. She shook her head to clear away the darkness gathering at the edges of her vision.

  “Breelyn.” Roland waved and walked toward her. “Leaving so early?”

  Breelyn didn’t know why she didn’t trust Roland. Everyone else did. He was Bakari’s best friend, and the Battlemaster, Alli, hadn’t left his side in the past three months. Breelyn shook her head once again—it was that creeping darkness inside her now, making her suspicious of everyone.

  “What was in that vial?” she said to Roland, sounding harsher than she had intended.

  Roland stopped short, standing for a moment with a small frown. Then he waved away those with him and continued the last few steps to Breelyn by himself.

  “What is wrong?” he asked.

  “That vial that you gave to me. Whatever was in it is in my head now, and I can’t shake it. What did you do to me, High Wizard?”

  “I…I…” Roland said, stumbling on his words, something that was not common for him. “It was all I could think to do, Breelyn. The Chameleon had taken our wizard powers away,” he explained. “I was trying to help,” he added with more of an edge.

  “Well, you shouldn’t play with things that you don’t understand.” Then Breelyn waved her hand around at the area as she added, “Magic can be dangerous. Maybe you shouldn’t be running things if you don’t understand that.”

  Roland’s face reddened. “Breelyn, this is not like you. We all did the best we could. It’s that evil man that is doing this to us. We must catch him and take his powers away, not blame each other.”

  A loud noise ensued overhead as Miriel landed in the practice yard, sending a puff of dust into the air. Her yellow and orange scales glowed in the morning sunlight as she took a step toward Roland and Breelyn.

  Roland rolled his eyes and asked, “Trying to bully me with your dragon?”

  Breelyn let out a deep breath. What’s wrong with me? she wondered. She put her hand on her dragon and felt an immediate release of stress. Her thinking also became clearer.

  “I am sorry, Roland,” she said. “I don’t know what got into me.”

  Roland winked at her and said, “Don’t worry, Breelyn. Someone as beautiful as you can get away with a lot.”

  Breelyn had forgotten how her pure Elvyn features affected the humans around her. “I am more than my looks, Roland Tyre.”

  “Of course you are.” Roland coughed, having the decency to look embarrassed at his slight, and then added, “You are a powerful dragon rider.”

  “Now you mock me?” Breelyn laughed, and it felt good.

  “Just trying to get you out of your funk, elf maiden.” Roland smiled wide. “Isn’t that a lot better than pestering me?”

  Miriel growled and moved her giant dragon head closer to Roland.

  Roland took a step back and said, “No offense, Miss Dragon. Just trying to help out your rider. I don’t think she slept well last night.”

  Breelyn s
aw a flash of black again at the corner of her eyesight. Then her heartbeat picked up and her head began to ache. “She is very protective of me, Roland. You might be more careful.”

  Roland put his hands up in the air and shook his head. “Breelyn, Dragon Rider, I will never understand women—especially elf women. You are crazy, you know that?”

  Miriel growled again, and a small puff of steam flew out of her nostrils. So Breelyn climbed up her scales and slid into the saddle behind her long neck. Looking down at Roland, who was once again joined by other wizards, she tried to breathe in deeply and not leave things in a bad way.

  “How is your power?” she asked Roland for the second time since her arrival the night before. She tried to show compassion, which she didn’t feel but knew that she should.

  “Better than yesterday,” he grumbled. “But not yet to its fullest glory.”

  Breelyn raised her eyebrows and flicked her hair behind her pointed ears. “You think magic is about the glory?”

  Roland shrugged. “It’s who I am, Breelyn. I am magic.”

  Breelyn gave a silent command to Miriel to lift off.

  The dragon’s wings whipped up a strong wind, almost knocking over Roland and the others in the yard. But Breelyn needed to get away. Now! Her head was killing her, and she knew she was acting irrationally. Doubts and dark thoughts about Roland and his Citadel wizards plagued her mind. She was a dragon rider, but she also was a protector of Elvyn—and Alaris better not attack them again.

  She flew due west, heading into Solshi as Bakari had requested, but her own mission was to find something that would heal Lan. When Breelyn had left Elvyn, their healers had stabilized Lan, but the darkness remained on his arms, creeping in spidery lines still—although very slowly—up and down his arm. That same darkness now crept into her own heart and mind.

  Breelyn screamed with a deafening howl in the afternoon air as they were crossing over the Mahli River.