The Blue Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 2)

by Salvador Mercer

  “Like a spy who was killed by his masters to keep him silent.” Madalena stared at Alyssa, and her jaw dropped slightly, showing her teeth, and Seth realized that she was in way over her head here. They were continuing toward shore, and from his peripheral vision, he could see the other skiff grounding against the beach. He had to do something soon, say something now before the Ulathans pressed their advantage. It wasn’t so wise to have engaged the Ulathans like this. Seth and Alyssa were, for all intents and purposes, a captive audience, unable to exit the skiff, unable to simply remain silent for fear of being complicit through that silence.

  “Perhaps,” Seth started, and then his own mouth opened as his jaw dropped a bit. He stared at the other skiff and watched as his Balarian comrades exited the skiff with the two large barbarians last, but one had turned back to the rear of the skiff and was waiting for them. Something was changing in the barbarian, and in the pale beams of the just-before-dawn sunrise, the man’s skin shimmered and greyed in color.

  “Oh my,” Diamedes said, rather sadly.

  The commotion on the far side of the skiff was obscured by the boat itself, but the sounds weren’t. A large blast of lighting struck the skiff, and sounds of screaming and death wafted from the far shoreline. Blood was flung across the rocks at least a dozen feet from anyone visible. Everyone on the Ulathan skiff struggled to see past the other boat to no avail, until a couple of Balarian soldiers came into view, running into the waters of the cove, bloodied and stricken with fear.

  The shimmering northern barbarian on the Balarian skiff was the only individual visible the entire time and, right before their eyes, it changed into a small dragon-looking creature with a bulbous tail with a stinger attached. Then it leaped into the air, large wings shooting out from its back, and took flight toward the Ulathan skiff.

  “Bloody hell,” Diamedes said.

  Chapter 21

  Drones

  Ela Elektra had returned to her lair to heal . . . and to skulk. It had been centuries since she had come anywhere near suffering a defeat to one of the puny humans, a small, non-magic-using one at that. She had settled into her nest of ancient seaweed and dried planks of wood from ships that she had destroyed over the eons. There was no sign of her drone, Cyprian, who was still on a special mission for her and her sister.

  Ela would need something much more powerful to heal her eye, which was completely blind now, and allow her to see normally again. As a dragon, she didn’t have to worry about infection—no bacteria could survive in dragon blood—so she kept her eyelid shut and rested her head between her front claws. She wouldn’t leave again until the Father called for her upon his transit. Even the Queen Mother would have to wait, she was so severely injured.

  So it was that after a day she was awoken from her deep resting slumber by her sixth sense, a specially honed dragon sense that tingled her steel-plated skin, and she felt the pulse race, even into her long claws splayed out in front of her. This special sensation she felt when in the presence of one of their servants, the wyvern drones.

  The drones couldn’t actually speak telepathically with their mistresses, but they could convey emotion. At this time, she picked up the strong emotion of one of the drones about to hunt. The thrill excited her as she felt her pulse accelerating and her heart beating stronger within her massive chest.

  The other drone also radiated its emotion to Ela, first of the hunt, but then of hatred and anger eventually turning into pain. What could cause the creature such harm? It didn’t matter, she was being called by the other drone that was suffering at the hands of humans. That much she knew to be true, so, despite her weakened state, she picked herself off of her nest and plunged into the sea water of her grotto, swimming toward the egress and her prey. She would not allow the humans to win again, even if it cost her other eye.

  Seth pulled his sword and shouted to Alyssa to arm herself. He was about to turn back to face the rushing creature when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that not everyone had their attention on the beast that was coming their way. One sailor seemed to be watching Seth rather intently, and Seth looked the man in the eye.

  The sailor looked familiar, and like the other marines on the ship, he drew his sword, ready for battle. The sword, however, was curved. It was a Balarian scimitar, despite the man being dressed in an Ulathan uniform. The sword was not being bandied about in front of him, but instead, it was pointed directly at Seth’s chest. With a quick lunge, the man tried to skewer Seth through his heart.

  Aboard the skiff, there was scant room to maneuver, and Seth found himself leaping back to avoid the tip of the scimitar. This took him over the small gunwale and right into the cove water. The water was warm enough, and Seth struggled to keep himself armed as well as to right himself so that he wouldn’t drown. Luckily the skiff had coasted to within the beach water’s edge and Seth found himself standing in neck-high water, unable to effectively move and leverage himself, but he did avoid death . . . for the moment.

  “To arms!” Orwell called, swinging the first blow as his sword met the outstretched claws of the wyvern drone.

  The creature bellowed a loud roar of pain and defiance as the Ulathan judge drew first blood, but the beast’s other claw tore into two Ulathan marines who were unable to bring their weapons up in time. The beast ended up on the bow of the skiff as it coasted toward the shoreline just to the left of the first skiff.

  “Watch out,” Seth yelled to Alyssa, who saw the attempt on Seth’s life and turned to face the murderer.

  Alyssa had dropped her bow and pulled her short sword when she saw what had happened to Seth. The skiff rocked violently from side to side with so many sailors and soldiers trying to stand and fight the violent creature that had descended upon them. Seth lost his footing and slipped under the water for a second as the sounds of battle and death diminished until he rose again. Feeling helpless, he started toward shore after the skiff.

  The Balarians had been caught unprepared, and the Ulathans faired not much better. Seth tried desperately to reach the skiff which was now well over fifty feet away in shallower waters. Before it could reach the shore, it capsized as the large wyvern drone had settled on its bow and its weight was too much for the boat to bear, fully laden as it was to begin with. Seth managed to see the killer and Alyssa trade blows twice before they were both flung into the water.

  The skiff had capsized close to shore, but it went into the water bow first, twisting to its side as it sank. Those in the rear of the boat, including the frail historian Diamedes and the holy warrior Madalena, were flung further, catapulted through the air in a high arch and landing in the water, disappearing beneath the now less than calm surface.

  Seth started to find some rocks beneath his feet, and he scrambled on them, trying to gain traction and leverage in the water, but the rocks would lead him further toward the other side of the shore from where the fight was raging. The sight of the killer as he surfaced without his sword spurred Seth on. He started to swim toward the capsized boat when Alyssa also appeared, flailing wildly and trying to breathe as she spat out large amounts of sea water.

  “No!” Seth screamed, pain shooting up his arms from his torso as he half swam, half waded through the now bloody waters of the cove, seeing the killer approach Alyssa from behind.

  Alyssa must have heard him as she turned and caught sight of the man. “You two-timing traitor—”

  Her voice was loud but cut off as the would-be assassin jumped on her, and they both went back under the water. The water behind them thrashed with a white foam as the fight between Orwell and his Ulathan marines raged on. Seth could see no sign of the historian or the female warrior.

  Seth moved faster, getting closer to the skiffs when the pair resurfaced again. This time Alyssa had her hands at her throat, struggling to remove the killer’s arm from under her chin. His other hand had pulled his dagger, having lost the scimitar either in the scuffle or when he was thrown into the water.

  Seth tried
to scream to distract the killer, but another thunderbolt struck the other skiff and the immediate boom right after it drowned out any sound at all. It was too late. Seth would watch Alyssa die, a mere dozen yards in front of him, as he struggled to clear himself of the deeper water.

  The killer paused for a moment, noticing Seth and his plight as he struggled to shore. The other man grinned, a feral smile, showing a row of gleaming white teeth, giving the man the appearance of a hunting carnivore about to kill its prey. The killer took delight in knowing that Seth would watch his companion die . . . die before the killer turned his blade on Balaria’s best assassin in recent history. Seth raised his sword arm above the water, which was now just below his shoulders, and threw his blade with all his might.

  Seth’s sword landed short by a couple of feet, and he received an intense pain across his rib cage for the effort. With purposeful will, the killer placed his dagger against the far side of Alyssa’s throat. He would pull the blade back toward him, slicing it and ending her life. Alyssa struggled to kick, but in the waist-high water, she had no leverage and was already turning blue from her asphyxiation by the other man.

  Seth wanted to close his eyes and not witness her death, but he couldn’t bring them away from hers. She willed him to watch her and to not let her die alone. The dagger pressed against her skin and a spurt of blood shot out and into the water before the fatal slice. A slice that never occurred. The large and distinct long sword of the holy warrior shot out suddenly from the killer’s chest, being driven by an immense force from behind the man.

  The killer tried to pull his dagger across and back to defend himself, but his strength was instantly sapped. Alyssa’s hold on his arm was now enough to keep it from moving, and then, just as suddenly as the blade appeared, it thrust up in an immense shower of water, hurling the killer’s body into the air and revealing the Fist of Astor, Madalena, behind the man as she stood and pulled her blade back at the end of the mighty thrust. The killer’s body flew into the air and landed just a few yards from Seth, facedown where it remained lifeless. Alyssa would live . . . for a while longer.

  “Get into the fight, men,” Orwell said, swinging yet another blow against the thrashing wyvern creature. The justiciar struggled, as everyone else did, to stand in the waters of the cove while the fight raged around them.

  Several Ulathan marines had managed to regain their weapons and now used them against the beast, inflicting some wounds to the creature, which also struggled in the water. There were too many bodies floating facedown, however, for Orwell to feel any sense of accomplishment so far.

  “Get down from there,” Diamedes said from nearby, having finally surfaced.

  The skiff had several rope lines that had wrapped around the overturned hull of the small vessel, and Orwell had climbed them in an attempt to get a killing blow against their adversary. The ship rocked, however, and he found himself simply trying to maintain his balance. Perhaps the small historian was correct.

  Orwell steadied himself and looked past the fight to the beach. There he saw the other wyvern drone lying dead a few dozen feet on shore, not far from the other skiff and the beach. A smoking hole was in the middle of its head and its tongue lay half in, half out of its mouth, its fangs gleaming as drool or sea water finished rolling off of them.

  Kaylor, that Kesh wizard, was walking toward the water from the beach, his staff pointed directly at the creature. The man almost walked into the water and then quickly stepped back, looking intently at the second drone.

  “Come here quickly,” Orwell said to his three men, still fighting the beast.

  The men disengaged and headed toward their commander. The creature seemed to sense the wizard behind it and it turned, ignoring the Ulathans to focus on the Kesh. The men started to climb on the ropes to get on top of the skiff. Two managed before the wizard struck.

  “Umerai!” the Kesh man said, pointing his staff at the beast as the tip point started to glow brightly and then discharge a bolt of lightning into the beast’s chest. The water around the drone danced with the blue glow of dissipating electrical current as the last marine convulsed and fell back into the water, face up, unable to clear the water before the strike.

  The thunderclap was deafening, and Orwell dropped his sword and covered his ears, watching as the water bubbled and frothed. He just caught sight of Madalena pulling Diamedes away from the area and around the far side of the other skiff, along with the two leather-clad Balarians who had joined them.

  The Kesh wizard seemed to enjoy the death he had just inflicted on the wyvern drone and turned his attention to the Balarians in the water. His face contorted and the glee turned to anger, not a bright, visible demonstration of hate, but rather a slow boil as it surfaced, long hidden and now unleashed. Orwell feared for the Balarians, and that wasn’t something he felt naturally.

  Seth sighed in relief as the second creature was killed by the powerful Kesh magic-user. The dying Ulathan marine didn’t help matters, but at least that tall holy warrior had pulled the little Ulathan historian away quick enough to be spared the effects of its blast.

  The thunder rolled over them, and Seth started to think they would survive the ordeal until Kaylor turned his attention to them. Well, Seth, to be specific. The man looked at him, and Seth saw the crazed look in his eyes. He watched as the staff’s gemstone started to glow again as it took in the charged particles from the atmosphere. The staff lowered and pointed right at him. Seth sighed again and prepared to die, hearing Alyssa say quietly, “I love you, Seth.”

  Ela Elecktra, the mighty blue dragon, emerging from the water and crashing on shore next to the Kesh wizard was not something that anyone was expecting, especially the wizard. The staff turned and the magic-user tried desperately to unleash his attack on the beast, but the creature lunged its neck and took the wizard in her powerful jaws, breaking the staff and causing a small explosion as the power within the metallic staff itself released.

  The blast caused the creature to release its hold on the wizard, who fell to the ground mortally wounded. Seth could see the dragon’s right eye shut where he had punctured it two days before. The beast shook its head at the pain, roared loudly, and attacked the Kesh man again, taking him in its jaws for a second time.

  Kaylor struggled for a moment and then seemed to realize his fate. His feet were sticking out from the side of the dragon’s mouth as a large tooth had impaled itself into the wizard’s chest. Kaylor’s left arm was inside the dragon’s mouth, but his right, the one wielding the broken staff, still held onto it and that arm was lying motionless, just outside the beast’s mouth,. The dragon’s upper lip curled up in a snarl, displaying a row of nasty teeth and fangs.

  Kaylor’s head lulled back for a moment, and he made eye contact with Seth and then smiled. Not a smile of joy, wonder, amazement, or kindness. No, this smile was one of satisfaction. The Kesh wizard had one last act to perform.

  “Get down!” Seth screamed at Orwell and Madalena as he grabbed Alyssa and started to plunge her and himself under the water.

  As he submerged, he caught sight of the Kesh wizard as he brought the tip of the staff, adorned with the gemstone, crashing into the dragon’s exposed tooth, shattering the precious stone and releasing the immense energy within it.

  The fireball exploded, sending dirt, water, rock, and dragon parts in all directions. Seth could feel the intense heat, even submerged under the water where he held Alyssa down until she struggled to breathe. Together they rose and surveyed the damage. Ela Elecktra was no more.

  “By all of Agon,” Alyssa began, looking at both skiffs that were burning brightly. The blast had set them on fire—well, the parts that weren’t blown away—and the corpses both in the water and on shore were completely on fire as well. There would be no burial for the dead that day. They were being cremated instead.

  “There you are,” Diamedes said, sputtering water and wiping his eyes clear as he surfaced.

  “My lord, where are you?” Madale
na said, frantically crying out for her liege.

  “I’m over here,” Orwell’s voice sounded from the other side of the overturned skiff. “We’re all right, Madalena. Do you have the historian with you?”

  “Yes, Master Diamedes is here, wet, a bit shaken, but unhurt,” she replied.

  “And our Balarian companions?” the justiciar asked.

  Madalena looked at Seth and nodded. “They are fine too.”

  Suddenly large parts of dragon bone and flesh as well as rocks and stones started to land in the water around them, one hitting the holy warrior on her shoulder and knocking her down.

  Seth heard one last thing from Diamedes before the holy warrior grabbed him, pulling him under the water as Seth and Alyssa submerged again as well. “You gotta be kidding me,” the historian muttered. Seth couldn’t agree more.

  Chapter 22

  Azure

  “I don’t know if we’ll make it in time,” Orwell stated from the bow of the Hammer as it plowed through the deep ocean waters on its way back to Balax, willing the huge man-of-war to sail faster.

  “Will it matter?” Diamedes asked from nearby, looking over the high gunwale at the churning water beneath the hull.

  All eyes turned to Seth as the lone representative of Kesh, other than Alyssa who sat nearby, her neck bandaged by the ship’s surgeon. Seth shrugged. “I don’t know how deep this conspiracy runs, but those two northerners were a part of whatever was plotted and I’d love to question their mistress, Alina of Elos.”

  “I’d like to know where the Kesh mercenary went,” Madalena said from her unmoving stance behind Diamedes where she could also keep watch on the two Balarians and her commander and leader.

  “There was no sign of him,” Orwell said, shaking his head in confusion. “He must have escaped in the confusion.”