Hound took a moment to quickly wrap Frank’s hand in a bandage. Ben ignored his brother’s whimpering and complaining, instead focusing on Imogen.
She clenched her jaw, wiped the tears from her face and nodded. “Promise?”
“I promise,” he said, helping her up.
The trek to the markers and around the town was uneventful save for a few barking dogs. It was evident from the noise in the distance that the majority of the Dragon Guard had been deployed north of town where the dragon and the Warlock had done battle. A large swath of the city was burning—dozens of houses and businesses falling victim to the flames.
“Are you really going to kill the dragon?” Zack asked while they walked through the tall grass along the south edge of town.
“Yes,” Ben said, though he didn’t feel nearly as confident as he tried to sound.
Frank huffed in the background.
“I’m sorry about your grandfather,” Zack said.
“Me too,” Ben said, patting his friend on the back.
They reached the warehouse by midmorning, Annabelle going in first to make sure everything was in order before waving the rest of them in. Each of them was put inside a crate, which was then nailed shut. Homer rode with Ben, a bit cramped but neither of them minded. The crates were loaded into a series of wagons, other crates filled with all manner of supplies loaded on top of them.
The ride was uncomfortable and Ben found himself holding his breath every time they reached a checkpoint, but they got through without any problems.
“Perhaps I am in need of repair,” the augment said at one point during their journey.
“I doubt it,” Ben said.
“I have carefully reviewed the footage of recent events and I cannot reconcile what I have seen with what I know to be true—a clear indication that I am malfunctioning.”
“You’re not malfunctioning … you’re just stubborn. The dragon is real. Magic is real. And I really can talk to my dog.”
“None of those things are possible.”
“Nope … but they’re real just the same.”
The augment went silent. Ben returned to his meditation, focusing on his lucky coin. The single-mindedness of the practice didn’t leave room for anything else, not thought, not emotion … it was the perfect refuge from his grief. He knew he couldn’t afford to open that door until he was safe. To do so would paralyze him and leave him and everyone he cared about vulnerable.
“System diagnostics indicate that I’m functioning within acceptable parameters,” the augment said a while later.
Ben felt a twinge of annoyance at being pulled out of his meditation.
“Like I said, you’re not broken, you’re just stubborn.”
“I need to connect to the NACC network to confirm my diagnostic results.”
“That’s going to have to wait,” Ben said. “No EM emissions of any kind. Consider that a standing order unless I direct you otherwise.”
The augment went silent again. Ben returned to his meditation.
Sometime later, the wagon stopped. The muffled voices of workers unloading the cargo filtered through the crate. It took a while for them to unload all of the real freight, then the workers left and things went quiet for a few minutes.
Abruptly, he heard the lid of his crate being pried off, then Adam helped Ben to his feet. He climbed out and stretched his legs a bit before lifting Homer out.
“Somebody want to open the door?” Homer said. “I’ve got business with a tree.”
Ben opened the warehouse door and let his dog out, peering this way and that and feeling a bit of relief that there weren’t any Dragon Guard in sight, just people working the docks.
“Where are you going from here?” Zack asked.
“North.”
“I think I should come with you. If I go home, I’m afraid the Dragon Guard will find me and hurt my parents.”
Ben closed his eyes and nodded, adding another couple of names to his mental list of the people in his life victimized by the wyrm.
“The Dragon Guard might harass them anyway trying to find out where you went.”
“Shit. I hadn’t though about that,” Zack said. “Maybe I could warn them—send them a letter.”
“Annabelle might have something to write with.”
Homer nosed the door open enough to squeeze through and the three of them walked back to the group.
“The boat will take a few minutes to prepare,” Adam said. “We should wait here until the last minute.”
The door opened behind them. Everyone turned to see Britney standing in the doorway, smiling at them with her grimy yellow teeth.
“Found you,” she said, strolling toward them.
Kat shot her three times.
Britney smiled at her momentarily before turning her attention to Frank.
Hound shot her with Bertha. She took the hit to the chest and staggered back, smiling at him for a moment before she lunged into a sprint. He fired again, but the shot passed under her as she leapt into the air and landed on Hound’s chest, knocking him over onto his back. Rather than press her attack, she rolled forward the moment he hit the ground, coming to her feet fluidly and hitting Frank in the chest with both hands, knocking him back a dozen feet.
He landed flat on his back, gasping for breath. She strolled toward him, seemingly oblivious to everyone else in the room. An arrow hit her in the back at an angle, coming out of her side. She ignored it, barely flinching at the wound.
“You tricked me, Frank. You lied to me and manipulated me. You pretended to care about me when you didn’t.”
Frank tried to say something but nothing came out.
A knife hit her in the back, just left of the spine—a perfect strike to the heart. She ignored it. Ben saw the look of fear in Annabelle’s eyes when she glanced at her husband.
Ben approached her from behind, sword drawn.
“Britney,” he said.
“I’ll be with you in a moment, dear Ben,” she said over her shoulder. “You really are the nice one—shame your lying brother killed you, too.”
She leapt onto Frank’s chest, grabbing him by the face and raising his head to slam it into the floor. Ben was moving the moment she leapt, reaching her a moment later, swinging his blade with everything he had. Time slowed. Emotions crashed into him like a tsunami. He’d had a crush on Britney for months—he’d dreamt about her, imagined a life with her … he could have loved her. Frank had betrayed him so totally that he didn’t even care if she killed him, yet his indifference to the well-being of his brother nagged at his conscience.
Above all, a rage fueled by loss and grief drove him, carried his blade into her neck, cleaving her head from her body with a single stroke. Frank shoved her aside, stripping off his shirt quickly to get her black blood off of him as he staggered to his feet, looking at Ben with a mixture of gratitude and confusion.
Ben ignored him. He stared at Britney’s body, dark blood oozing from her neck into a pool on the floor. He’d never killed anyone before. Cyril had always protected him from that.
And now, his first kill was the woman he wanted to love.
He tried to tell himself that she was already dead, that the stalker’s spirit had possessed her, that her body was just a vessel for a creature of deliberate malice, but none of that removed the fact that he’d just decapitated the woman that he had intended to court as his wife.
In the face of an emotional onslaught that threatened to undo his sanity, he stepped back from his emotions, detaching and distancing himself from the things he was feeling, cutting himself off from the unbearable pain and loss and horror. Deliberately embracing the numbness, he cleaned his blade and returned it to its scabbard.
“Is the boat ready?” he asked quietly.
Imogen laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” he said calmly.
“Time to go,” Adam said from the door.
“Why?” Frank ask
ed, before anyone could move. “Why did you save me? You obviously hate me, so why not let her kill me?”
Ben looked at him for a moment before answering with a helpless shrug. “You’re my brother,” he said, holding his eyes for a moment before turning toward the door.
The boat ride to the north end of the lake was quiet, everyone content to wrestle with their own thoughts. When Ben stepped off the boat, something caught his eye. He frowned as he bent down and picked up a gold coin. Smiling to himself, he slipped it into his pocket.
True to her word, Annabelle had horses ready for them. Within a few minutes of making landfall, they were riding north along old Highway 95 toward the Deschutes Territory and the promise of sanctuary.
Ben kept to himself during the trip, focusing his mind on meditation, trying to keep the grief at bay. Three days later, they rounded a bend and saw their new home—an idyllic vineyard nestled into the east slope of the Cascade Mountains.
“This place smells good,” Homer said.
Ben smiled down at his best friend trotting along beside him.
“You’ll be safe here,” Annabelle said.
She spurred her horse, leading the way up the winding path to the top of the hill and the home of the Dragon Slayer.
Here Ends The Dragon’s Egg
Dragonfall: Book One
Coming Soon
The Dragon’s Codex
Dragonfall: Book Two
Dear Reader,
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David A. Wells
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PPS – If you liked this story you may also enjoy my first series.
The Sovereign of the Seven Isles
Thinblade
Sovereign Stone
Mindbender
Blood of the Earth
Cursed Bones
Linkershim
Reishi Adept
The Dragon's Egg (Dragonfall Book 1) Page 37
