Fire and Blood (Dragons of Galicia Book 3)

by Simone Pond

  Lugh addressed the men. “The dragon slayer must be the one to pierce the heart of the prince. If any of you capture him, he must be kept alive.” He nodded at Evelyn.

  She held up the spear; its blue-white light beamed across the faces of the fierce warriors. “Let us destroy the Verubri bloodline and end the dragons of Galicia forever!”

  The men cheered and whistled. Clovis called out his last instructions to the men and they got into formation.

  “Onward!” he shouted.

  The roar of galloping horses sounded almost like rolling thunder, and the wind was bitter but exhilarating. Evelyn and Lugh were at the front of the charge with Clovis. She glanced back to Doran. He smiled and gave her a nod of approval. What a long way they’d come since that first night in Branbury Forest. Doran was no longer a thief. And she was no longer a foolish girl.

  They were midway to the castle when the sky burst into flames. Evelyn looked up and saw a pair of furious dragons circling above. They were larger and more frantic than the two previous dragons she’d encountered; these were like wild, screaming demons from the pits of hell. Why hadn’t the spear of Gorias alerted her to their approach? She yanked it from her belt and held it up, but it emitted no light or charge. Something was blocking its magic.

  Above, the dragons screeched and fire roared from their mouths. The flames came rushing down to the ground. The warriors’ horses neighed and screeched as the fire torched the earth around them.

  “The spear!” shouted Lugh.

  “It’s being blocked,” she shouted back.

  From the castle came a parade of knights riding across the bridge toward the field. Clovis and his men charged toward them. Then came the clamor of metal on metal filling the air. Men wailed and hollered as they clashed in battle.

  Lugh yelled over the ruckus to Evelyn, “You must get to the prince!”

  “What about the dragons?”

  “I’ll deal with them. Just go!”

  Evelyn had no idea how her father would handle the two powerful dragons on his own without the spear. But she followed his orders and headed toward the castle to find the prince.

  The force of the dragons’ wings created a powerful wind and Evelyn’s horse began bucking, nearly throwing her off the back. She gripped the reins with one hand and the spear in the other.

  “Do something!” she yelled at the spear.

  But the spear remained unresponsive.

  Evelyn was gaining speed and approaching the bridge of the castle when one of the dragons swooped down. Its nostrils flared and its mouth opened wide, preparing to breathe down fire. She yanked the reins, and the horse bucked again. That time she was thrown off and she hit the ground hard. Pain pummeled her chest and the wind was knocked out of her. She dragged herself toward the bridge, hoping to get to the castle for cover. The dragon exhaled and sent a blast of fire directly at Evelyn. The flames were a few feet away when someone snatched her up and carried her across the bridge into the castle.

  24

  Evelyn had been carried into the castle and set down at the bottom of the grand staircase.

  A robust, knightly man kneeled before her. “You must help her!” he begged.

  “What? Who are you?”

  “I’m Olen. Please heal her.” He pointed next to Evelyn.

  She saw there was someone passed out on the floor beside her, bleeding. That someone was Ciara.

  Evelyn shot up to her feet. “I’ve been fooled far too many times by this shrew. Thank you for saving my life. But I’ve got a prince to kill.”

  Olen grabbed Evelyn. “The prince is going to sacrifice our baby.”

  She stopped and looked at the man, then down at Ciara’s broken body. “What do you mean?”

  He gave her a quick summary of what had happened. Evelyn didn’t want to, but she felt sincere sadness for Ciara; the foolish girl had been blinded by her desire for power. Her vanity and pride had led her to the very spot where she lay—in a puddle of her own blood.

  Evelyn held up the spear and closed her eyes, pleading with it to come back to life. A buzz vibrated in her hand. She opened her eyes to see the blue-white glow returning to her partner.

  “Glory be!” she sang.

  She moved Olen out of the way and held the spear horizontally over Ciara’s heart. She took Ciara’s hands and placed them over the spear, then stood back. The spear lit up and radiated light through Ciara’s broken bones and wounds, restoring her body. When it was finished, the spear lifted and returned to Evelyn’s hand.

  Ciara sat up, gasping. “Our baby!”

  Olen dropped to his knees and embraced Ciara. She pulled away and reached out for Evelyn, grabbing her free hand.

  “Please forgive me … I’m so sorry … for everything,” cried Ciara.

  Evelyn stared down at Ciara and felt a wave of compassion. “You need not beg for redemption with me, friend. I’ve forgiven you, for I was once blinded by the prince and what he stands for. But you will need to answer to someone.”

  Olen stood up. “You must stop the prince.”

  “He’s taking her to the Vindius Mountains,” said Ciara. “To the heart of the mountain where he makes the sacrifices. I now know what the map means.”

  Evelyn asked, “What map?”

  “I found a page torn from your journal. It’s a map to the heart of the cave. That’s where the prince is taking our baby.”

  Evelyn had read in the journal that an infant blood sacrifice was the most powerful. Even more than a dragon slayer. If the prince sacrificed Ciara’s baby, the entire clan would be reawakened and more potent than ever. Unstoppable.

  “He’s gone completely mad. He thinks he can awaken and control the entire dragon clan. You must tell me how to find the heart,” said Evelyn.

  Ciara explained what she could remember of the map. The spear lit up again and began to pull Evelyn toward the door.

  “I will stop him,” she told Ciara and Olen.

  “Promise me you’ll save our baby,” cried Ciara.

  Evelyn knew better than to make such an important promise, but she smiled and said, “Of course.”

  Outside, the fighting continued in the field. Evelyn gripped the spear of Gorias as it carried her up into the sky and over the battle toward the mountains. Down on the ground, she spotted one of the dragons burning in a heap. They had killed the beast. The other was swooping around toward the battlefield, shooting off streams of fire and shrieking. Evelyn wanted to help her father and the dragon warriors, but she knew there was no turning back. She had to get to the heart of the mountain.

  25

  The spear carried Evelyn to the highest range of the Vindius Mountains, where the wind cut straight through to the bone. A film of light rose from the spear and surrounded Evelyn in a sphere of protection; within seconds she was able to feel her skin again. Evelyn looked down and saw the tops of clouds; they had reached the summit of Bispos Peak, and the spear lowered Evelyn onto a plateau.

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  Evelyn stepped away from the center of the plateau of the mountain. The spear pulled itself out of her hand and shot skyward, then whipped around and came zooming back down. Evelyn braced herself, gripping the sharp rocks to stay steady. In an eruption of light, the spear pierced into the central plateau of the mountain and blasted through the upper crust of rock, hardened basalt lava, and granite. Evelyn—still protected by the bubble of light—climbed over to the hole the spear had created. She counted to three and jumped inside.

  The spear continued charging downward as Evelyn slid through the tunnel it had created in its wake. It cut through the layers of lower crust and the mantle, going deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain.

  The spear broke through the bottom layers and blasted into a cavern of molten lava. Evelyn slid through the hole and came sputtering out of the opening. As she careened straight toward the bubbling magma below, she remembered the first dragon she’d confronted melting in the pool of lava. Where was the
spear? It needed to sweep her to solid ground before she plunged into the liquid fire.

  She splashed directly into the lava, expecting to feel herself melting. Surprisingly, she felt nothing; the bubble had protected her completely and she floated on the surface of the lake of lava. The spear came from one of the tunnels and swept down toward Evelyn, lifting her up out of the lava and carrying her through the same tunnel it had emerged from. It set her down.

  “Your timing is off a bit,” she said.

  The spear lit up and vibrated, pulling her down the tunnel and onto solid ground. She walked until she came to the tunnel’s end; it opened up to another pool of lava and at its center was a small island of flat rock. It looked like the same rock the dragon had dropped her upon the last time she was here. She’d come full circle.

  A lone basket sat atop the rock, and from inside a baby cried and screamed—Ciara and Olen’s daughter. Evelyn’s mouth turned sour with disgust. The prince was by far the most evil being she’d ever known.

  “Take me to her,” she said.

  The spear vibrated in her palm, then flew Evelyn over to the rock. She placed the spear into her belt and reached down to lift up the crying baby girl. She was tiny—prematurely born—and needed help.

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Evelyn, taking the spear from her belt strap and raising it.

  The spear didn’t budge.

  “This is no time to be stubborn. This baby girl isn’t well.”

  Still, the spear remained motionless. The baby cried louder. Evelyn whispered and cooed into her ear, promising she’d be okay …

  “Just as soon as this spear does something!”

  The sound of wings flapping echoed through one of the tunnels. The other dragon had retreated from the battlefield and was coming here. She set the baby in the basket and gripped her spear. That time it lit up like the moon. She’d never seen it glow with such intensity.

  The thwacking of wings grew louder as the beast approached. Evelyn steadied herself on the rock and waited. A winged creature emerged from the tunnel, its eyes a gold fire. But it wasn’t the dragon. It was Prince Kieran.

  He flew to the rock and hovered before Evelyn. Half-man, half-dragon—the prince’s skin shimmered with golden scales. A long spiked tail sprouted behind him. His wings stretched wide and they pumped with great force.

  “You fool,” he bellowed. “You cannot stop me from awakening my dragons. You’re a simple farm girl with no home to return to. You’re worthless and have no value in this world.”

  His words resonated over and over until Evelyn could no longer discern them from the truth. She stared at the demon, unable to utter a sound.

  “You call yourself a dragon slayer …” His laughter rolled over Evelyn and echoed through the cavern. “You’re a fraud. You couldn’t even save those villagers.”

  The spear began to vibrate in Evelyn’s hand. She looked down at the glowing blue-white shaft. The prince continued chastising Evelyn, but she tuned in to the vibrations of the spear. She realized that while the prince was slaughtering her with words, he hadn’t made any physical contact. Evelyn was still encased inside the bubble. A surge of power moved through her and blocked out the gibberish spewing from the prince’s mouth.

  “If I’m a fraud,” she said, stepping forward, “why don’t you just throw me into the lava? What are you waiting for, demon?”

  His eyes burned and spun in fiery circles, but he remained hovering in the same spot.

  “That’s what I thought. If anyone’s a fraud, it’s you.” She laughed and inched a little closer.

  The prince released a screech that clawed Evelyn’s ears, but she remained steady. When he didn’t get the reaction he desired, he came at Evelyn in a furious rage. He landed on the rock and charged forward. She hurled the spear of Gorias and thrust it right through the heart of the fiend. His entire being lit up in blue light and he collapsed. The dragon parts of his body peeled off like burning embers from a smoldering log, then disintegrated into thin air. He flailed about, screeching and howling.

  Evelyn walked over to the withering husk of his body. “I am Evelyn of Gorias, legendary dragon slayer. You are finished.” She plunged the spear into his heart once again, and he broke apart into millions of ashes which dispersed into the air.

  The mountain began to tremble and quake. The lava sputtered and spouted upward. Evelyn snatched up the basket.

  “It’s going to blow. Take us out of here!”

  The spear rose up and zipped across the cavern into one of the tunnels. It whisked through the darkness as the mountain shook and chunks of rock crumbled from the tunnel walls. The baby wailed. Loud cracks echoed all around them. More rocks fell into the tunnel. Evelyn thought they’d never escape in time—the mountain was going to crumble with them still inside …

  Down on the battlefield, the Verubri knights had been routed. The survivors had either fled or surrendered. The dragon warriors—with the help of Lugh—had killed the other dragon and its body was a burned heap. Their songs of victory were shortlived, however, as thunder clapped and lightning streaked the sky, emanating from the Vindius Mountains. The wind roared and whipped. More thunder came. The lightning grew more intense. Everyone looked at the flashing orange, red, and silver explosions emanating from the tallest of the Vindius Mountains—Bispos Peak.

  “She’s in there with our baby! Can’t you do something?” A woman’s voice beckoned.

  Lugh and Doran looked behind them, and trudging through the field toward them was a raven-haired lady in a red robe and a knightly looking man.

  “Who is it you speak of, Ciara?” Doran asked.

  “Evelyn! She went to save our child and that’s where she went!” She pointed to the exploding mountain in the distance. She hit her knees and wept. “Olen … our baby … I’m so sorry … Evelyn … I’m so sorry …”

  Olen bent down and held Ciara in his arms.

  Doran and Lugh exchanged morose glances and looked back at the exploding mountain, which was now spewing ash and lava into the sky. Nobody spoke, they just watched as the mountain melted. Explosions, cold breezes, and Ciara’s sobs were the only sounds that filled the air …

  Until Clovis could be heard yelling, “Incoming!”

  Men began scattering as a blue-white glow arced from the mountains through the sky and headed directly at them … and as it drew near it sounded like laughter was coming from it …

  “Aaaah haha haha! Yeah!” Evelyn’s voice permeated the air.

  Landing softly on the ground directly in the midst of a stunned Doran, Ciara, Olen, and a smiling Lugh, was a beaming Evelyn and the cooing baby.

  Nobody quite knew what to say, until Clovis could be heard yelling, “the legend lives!”

  Then the cold air was filled with a long, warm cheer from everyone. The songs of victory again filled the air.

  26

  The sea glistened and birds gamboled over the exotic flowers blossoming into a wide array of colors throughout the Eshlan estate. Spring was in full bloom. It had been months since the battle of Verubri had been fought, and already it was a thing of legends.

  Shortly after the battle, Ciara and Olen had been wedded on a bluff overlooking the sea. They had decided to name their baby after Evelyn, for, as Ciara pronounced, “It means ‘life.’ And both of you helped give it to me.” Evelyn, for her part, had given the child her own special moniker, Bitsy, for on the duration of the trek back to Eshlan, when she would hold the tiny child, the infant would coo with delight.

  Clovis and his men had unfinished business in the south with the king of Russex, and had departed after the wedding to wage what was turning out to be a successful campaign against the scoundrel and his armies.

  “I will have scouts on the lookout. If they come across anyone who might be your mother,” said Clovis to Evelyn, prior to his departure, “they will send word back here to Eshlan.”

  Shortly thereafter, Evelyn, Lugh, and Doran had been on their own trek, combing the
countryside, villages, and the Vindius Mountains and valleys in search of the long-lost Deirdre. Though the death of the wretched Prince Kieren and the dragons had instilled an air of hope and peace throughout the lands, the three searchers were growing weary.

  “Smells like it’s going to rain,” sniffed Doran.

  “Looks it too. Those clouds over the peaks are moving in fast,” pointed out Lugh. “We should seek shelter before nightfall.”

  The rain indeed did approach fast, and the three sloshed along the mountain valley trail for a little while until they came upon a tiny inn nestled at the foot of a mountain. They tied their horses in a small stable and entered the inn.

  An ancient lady, who was tidying up the common room, eyed their entrance. Any trepidation or disdain she might have been ready to announce was nullified by the three gold coins Doran brandished and set upon one of the tables as they sat. She immediately put away her broom, fixed her hair, and waited upon them.

  “What’ll it be, weary travelers?” She grabbed the coins and slid them into the pocket of her frock.

  “Three ales, please. And rooms for the night.”

  “Three ales ’twill be. ’ll fetch ’em right away now. And yer quarters ’ll prepare. No food fer yer gullets? We got us here a delicious stew.”

  The three declined and thanked the lady.

  “Suit yourselves.” She shuffled off to the tap and poured three cups of ale. She returned and set them down. “If there’ll be anything else ya need me to fetch, just yell out fer me. I’m Blanche.” She again shuffled off and disappeared somewhere, most likely to go prepare the rooms.

  The three brooded over their ales, sometimes taking a sip, and listened as the rain pelted the roof of the inn. Had she had it out of her pocket, Evelyn would have noticed the soft glow of the stone of Gorias, which was attempting to notify her of perhaps an impending danger. But the spear was the last thing on her mind.

  Then her stomach began to rumble. “I think I’ll take up Blanche’s offer on the stew.”