Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga)

by Kristian Alva

  ***

  Thorin and Floki worked fast. Thorin hummed a song quietly under his breath, packing the cart and the horses.

  “Thorin, use only the light pack,” said Floki. “We want the guards to believe that this is just a daytrip to Gardarsholm.”

  Halda came outside with some corncakes and dried beef strips. The simple food would sustain them for a few days if they rationed it properly. Her eyes were red from crying.

  “Floki, should I start packing our things?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “Yes. We must leave with the children immediately. Do not tell anyone where we are going. You must be ready to leave when I return. Pack rations and our coin purses. It is too dangerous for us to linger in Jutland any longer.”

  “B-but the baby, Floki…” Halda’s lower lip trembled.

  “It cannot be helped,” he responded, grasping both her shoulders. “The emperor hates dwarves almost as much as he hates dragons, and his necromancer will not hesitate to kill all of us. If we stay here, it is only a matter of time before we are questioned and killed. They will not spare our children, Halda. You know this.”

  Halda nodded, lowering her head. Her eyes streamed with tears. She knew that her husband told the truth. The only safe place for them now was Mount Velik. They had to try and make it there. She didn’t blame Thorin and Elias, but it hurt just the same. They had built a life together in Jutland, and now, to be uprooted with so little warning was painful.

  Thorin cleared his throat and coughed politely, “Floki, sorry to interrupt, but the horses are ready to go.”

  “Alright. Parvel!” said Floki, calling again for his young son.

  “Yes, Papa?” answered Parvel, who came running from inside the house.

  “Go find Elias and tell him it’s time get going. He’s somewhere in the stables. Don’t be too loud, though.”

  Parvel bolted to the stables, calling Elias’ name.

  “This is my chance to test the spell,” Elias thought to himself. He read the runes out loud, carefully, “Hud-leyna!” He saw a shimmer in the air, and then it stabilized. He couched in the corner, in plain sight. The sensation was peculiar—he felt as though he was sitting inside an egg.

  Parvel entered the stable and walked back and forth, calling his name. He walked past Elias twice, just inches away from him. He scratched his head quizzically.

  “Elias? Are you in here? I can hear you breathing, but I can’t see you.”

  Elias released the spell, frowning. “Blast! Parvel could still sense I was here,” he thought.

  “Oh, there you are! Were you spellcasting?” asked Parvel, his eyes as wide as saucers.

  “Yes, I was. It didn’t work. You could still hear me,” Elias said, disappointed.

  “No, it worked! I couldn’t see you. Remember, I’m part dwarf. My hearing is better than yours. I don’t think that a normal human would have heard you.”

  “That’s true, isn’t it?” said Elias. “Maybe we’ll get lucky at the gate after all.” Parvel and Elias walked out to meet Thorin and Floki.

  “Papa! Elias cast a hiding spell. I couldn’t see him, but he was right in front of me!” said Parvel.

  “Aye! That’s great news, boy,” said Thorin, smiling broadly. “You’ve got the hang of it, then?”

  “Yes, but Parvel could still hear me breathing. The spell doesn’t mask noise—only my appearance. I can’t hold my breath the whole time,” said Elias.

  “Don’t fret. The guards are human. We just have to get past them. How long do you think you can hold the spell?”

  “Thirty minutes, maybe more if I concentrate. It’s pretty tiring,” said Elias.

  “That’s plenty of time to get us out of the city and into the forest. Now let’s just pray that we don’t encounter the necromancer, or our goose is cooked,” said Thorin.

  Floki nodded grimly. Everyone knew that necromancers could easily detect such a simple spell. If the necromancer appeared at the gate, they would be taken into custody, and Elias would be delivered to the emperor as a prisoner. The necromancer would probably just kill him and Thorin, after torturing them for information. Then the soldiers would return to Floki’s home and kill his entire family.

  Floki sighed. “Thorin, I hate to admit it, but I’ve gotten comfortable here in Jutland, and I’ve ignored the warnings for too long. People in Jutland have been skittish and afraid for months. It’s been getting worse, and I’ve just turned a blind eye to the danger. Even if we all made it out of Jutland alive, dark days are ahead.”

  “Yes. Like it or not, war is coming,” said Thorin.

  ***