by Scott King
Contents
Title Page
Map
Prologue
1. Dragon Attack
2. The Dragon's Den
3. The Frog
4. Responsibility
5. Being Human
6. Pierogies
7. Companions
8. The Infiltrator
9. The Red Hounds
10. Betrayal
11. The Princess
12. Grekers
13. The Erediä
14. Worm Food
15. The Oracle
16. Waking Dragons
17. The Former Servant
18. The Queen-in-Waiting
19. Hunger
20. Feast
21. Ambushed
22. The Arg'Natz
23. Family Matters
24. The Return Home
25. Bound
26. The Arena
27. Stabbed
28. Yorndrak
29. In the Dark
30. Evacuation
31. Wrents
32. Her Sword
33. The Chamber
34. The Crimson Plains
35. Promise of Revenge
36. Tavern Talk
37. Pirates
38. Open Sea
39. Kalendor
40. The Barrier
41. Dragon Lotus
42. The Blackness
43. War
44. Dragon Flight
45. High Magic
46. Burned Out
47. Requiem
Epilogue
Note to the Reader
Want More?
Tales of Elderealm
Author’s Note
About the Author
Books By Scott King
and the sun sank below the horizon, marking the end of the age of races. The night brought upon the dawning of the age of man.”
— Hemmingwell’s History of The World Vol. III
Prologue
He has chosen the wrong path."
"Good thing we have the contingency."
"Good thing."
"Will they be able to handle it?"
"We thought he could, and he didn't. Why should these do better?"
"He can still get us what we want."
"Too risky. It was too much of a burden for one, but the shoulders of three..."
"Let us watch and see."
1
Dragon Attack
Islesday, 45th of Weod, 1162.111
Don't be alarmed." Owen shook Carter awake.
Groggy eyed, Carter sat up, knowing when Master Owen said he shouldn't be alarmed, it meant he should be. "What's wrong?"
The cottage shuddered as a blinding orange flash surged past the bedroom window. It illuminated Owen's wrinkled face. In the bright light, the folds of skin on his cheeks and brow looked like deep canyons that faded into the smooth dome of his hairless scalp. Owen tried to hide it, but Carter detected the traces of fear hidden in the corners of Owen's eyes.
"It's a dragon," Owen said.
Carter held his breath. There hadn't been a dragon sighting in five years, and the rumors back then had been less believable than the size of the catfish Mr. Kohley claimed to have caught in the Alsend River.
Dashing to the window, Carter looked to the night sky. A shadow dipped below the clouds, and fire erupted from it, striking the lake that surrounded Owen's cottage. The water boiled, and thick clouds of steam rose into the sky, hiding the dragon.
"Do you see it?" Carter craned his neck out the window and looked directly up. He saw soft flashes of fire behind the clouds, but he didn't spot the dragon.
"Stay inside." Owen looked frail, but was far from it. With a single jerk of Carter's nightshirt, he pulled the teen backwards. "The dragon cannot harm us here. Stay calm, stay inside, and we will be safe. I don't want to see any brashness or fool hardy actions."
"Brashness? A dragon is attacking us!" Carter pointed out the window. "We can't sit here and do nothing."
"Look again."
The pine trees along the shore of the lake burned, lighting up the night sky. The dragon dove, blasting another stream of fire east, away from the cottage.
Carter caught a glimpse of the monster. It had a slender form, two carts wide, and its length was four times its width. A powerful tail curved and twisted as the dragon broke through the clouds. Dark colored scales covered the dragon's entire body including its wings, though in the dim light Carter couldn't be sure of their color.
"It isn't attacking," Owen muttered under his breath, and a gentle yellow orb, no larger than the old man's thumb, sprung to life over his right shoulder. Its surface shifted and moved, like running water, and it shone, illuminating the entire room. "It moves forward with no real purpose."
"The dragon fire–"
"The cottage is protected. We are safe inside."
The dragon roared and made another pass, this time scorching the grove of hemlocks where Carter and Owen spent most of their time doing lessons. The dragon somersaulted and continued east, heading directly for Hal.
"The town," Carter whispered. His eyes went wide, and he looked at Owen with concern. "What about everyone in Hal?"
"There is nothing we can do."
"Sure there is. You know hundreds of spells. There has to be one strong enough to stop a dragon."
"I cannot."
"Why?"
"There are things in play you do not understand. This dragon is bait. If not for me, then for something else, and if I took action, more people would end up harmed."
"What does that mean?" Carter groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. Doesn't matter. We can't to let people die."
"My hands are tied."
"Fine." Carter climbed out of bed and tore his faded azure cloak from a hook on the wall. "If you won't stop the dragon, I will."
"I thought you were over this hero nonsense." Owen rose and stood between Carter and the door. "Haven't you learned a damned thing these past few years?"
"It's not about being a hero. It's about right and wrong. What if Dale or Allison are in town? What if their parents are there or Mr. Kohley is at his shop restocking supplies? How could I live with myself knowing something bad happened to them and I did nothing?"
"And what is your grand plan? You are hardly eighteen, and you have little control over your magic. The best you could do is tickle it with a summer breeze."
"I know more than you realize."
"You will get yourself killed."
"Maybe, but I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't try."
"If you chose to leave... that is your right, but I highly advise against it."
"You won't stop me?"
Owen stepped sideways, motioning to the door. "Free will, the ability to choose one's own fate, is more important than most realize. If this is the path you choose, I will not stand in your way."
"Do you have any advice for dealing with a dragon?"
"Magic isn't always the answer."
"So what? You expect me to talk a dragon out of attacking?"
"Don't mess with the dragon. Let it be. Take plenty of cream and poultices and focus on helping any who may have been burned or badly hurt."
Carter lifted the lid of the wooden chest under his window. He removed a travel satchel packed with herbs and emergency medical supplies. He expected Owen to say more, to try to convince him to stay, but Owen said nothing, and his silence was more condescending and hurtful than if he had spoken.
The sorghum fields along the main road to Hal blazed, filling the air with a heavy, black smoke. The closer Carter got to town, the thicker the smoke became, and the more bits of flaky ash drifted from the sky. With every breath, the flecks of ashes crept into his m
outh and left a burning sensation against the back of his throat while the smoke caused his eyes to water.
Carter considered casting a spell to bend the air around him and keep the ashes away from his face, but if he caught up with the dragon, he would need all his energy. He decided to go with a more practical solution.
He opened his satchel and removed a washcloth and a vial of distilled water. He poured the water over the rag and used it to cover his mouth and nose. The damp fabric wasn't perfect, but it managed to filter enough of the soot so he could breathe without choking.
Less than a league from Hal, Carter saw the dragon again. This time, Carter stood close enough to see the boney ridges surrounding the dragon's yellow eyes and the flax-colored markings streaking across its triangular face. The leading edge of its wings grew from a space between its shoulder blades, and the muscles there were equal to those on its hindquarters.
The dragon flew in erratic zigzags with no apparent direction. The aimless meanderings and abrupt loops caused it to backtrack on itself and allowed Carter to follow the dragon with ease.
Passing a bend in the road, Carter stopped.
Marta, the metalsmith's apprentice, crouched behind a handcart loaded with ore. Most likely, she was heading into town to start her day. The firelight of the burning fields backlit her, highlighting her long, dark hair. Beside her was Jonathan, her husband.
The dragon roared. There was a blur.
Quicker than Carter could track, the dragon had Jonathan and lifted the man into the sky.
Thirty parses up, the dragon dropped him.
Jonathan screamed.
Carter averted his gaze, but still heard a wet, crunching sound, like a melon bursting.
"No!" Marta darted to the limp form of her husband.
"Stop!" Carter yelled too late.
The dragon whipped over the sorghum field and lashed out with its tail.
Marta flew sideways, slamming into the ore cart.
"Ahh gorph!" Carter took a deep breath. He needed to focus.
Aware of his quickly beating heart, Carter concentrated on slowing his breathing. He purged his mind of all extraneous thoughts, and reached into himself for his magic. It was there, ready. He had to time it right. He would have only one chance.
Carter watched the sky. He listened.
From the corner of his eye, he caught a flicker of movement. To the northwest, away from town, the dragon drenched the forest in fire.
The dragon looped and flew farther away.
"Coward!" Carter released his magic and turned his attention to Marta and Jonathan. Jonathan was a pile of sludge and broken bone. There was no doubt he was dead.
Marta lay next to the cart. Her body was twisted, and her legs bent in the wrong direction. Blood that looked black in the dim light matted her hair. A laceration from the dragon's tail stretched across her chest and abdomen, gushing. A gurgling sound from the back of her neck made Carter realize she still lived.
She wouldn't live long. No magic or medicine could save her.
A part of Carter felt guilty. He had never liked Marta much. She was one of the few locals who had gone to school to study agyls, and she always rubbed it in his face that she had formal training. It always came off unpoxed. Now she lay dying before his eyes, and he thought he should care more, for as much as he didn't like her, she did know her agyls. It was a waste to see someone so talented die so young.
Carter couldn't save her, but he could ease her transition to death.
He knelt beside her. She blinked at the movement, but no recognition showed on her twisted face. Removing a glass bottle from his satchel, he popped the stopper. The rancid stench of the zewik juice was so strong he could smell it through the smoke and washcloth. Two years ago, he had spilled a single drop of it onto the back of his hand, and it took more than three days for it to wear off. The whole time, Master Owen had made him sleep outside in a tent.
Pressing the bottle against Marta's lips, Carter poured. Bubbles of blood frothed out of her mouth, and she spit the juice back out. Her shaking subsided, but didn't stop. Carter needed to get a larger dose into her system. All it would take is half a quarter port, but to be safe, he used it all.
Carter poured the teal liquid over Marta's mashed chest. The juice reacted with the oozing blood to create tiny, violet bubbles. Carter gagged, tasting a mix of soured meat and swamp clay.
Marta made no final gasp or jerking motion. The sick or injured rarely did such things when dying. The death was quiet. One moment there remained a flicker of movement in her eye, and in the next her gaze became a blank stare.
To the north, the dragon continued to dip in and out of the clouds as it flew toward the Anber Mountains. That was good. It meant the dragon was avoiding Hal, and others wouldn't suffer like Marta had.
It also meant that Carter had a choice to make. His instincts told him to listen to Master Owen. He should head into Hal and be there in case the dragon changed direction.
His heart told him otherwise. To the abyss with playing this defensively. He wanted to hunt down the dragon and kill it. Not out of revenge or a wrong sense of justice. He wanted it gone so it couldn't hurt anyone else.
2
The Dragon's Den
Ornsday, 1st of Hearfest, 1162.111
When dawn came, Carter was two valleys past Hal. Once he was into the thick of the woods, tracking the dragon became difficult because the creature soared over the foothills and ridges. It left Carter racing up steep inclines and along the rocky banks of fast rushing mountain streams.
By midmorning, he had lost the dragon. One moment it flew, leaving a trail of fire, and in the blink of an eye, it was gone. Thin, glassy clouds filled the sky and were too high for the dragon to hide in. The only thing that made sense was that the dragon had landed.
The Anber Mountains ran east to west and possessed some of the highest peaks in all of Majerä. Even now, he could see snow-capped tips reflecting the morning sun. Fractured crags and shears of rock with deep nooks made the mountains impassable, not that anyone had a reason to pass it. Nothing lay beyond the mountains, making it an ideal location for the dragon to hide.
Hal was the northern most settlement in the Freelands, and all the major towns in Arwyn or Gara lay farther south. If Carter were a dragon, somewhere around here is where he would make his home. The dragon's den had to be near.
Carter picked the tallest tree around, a blue pine whose needles were golden as it prepared to shed for winter. As he climbed, the tree's sticky sap clung to his cloak and fingers.
Little vegetation grew among the cliffs, and although there were plenty of nooks and crannies that could be caves, none were big enough for a dragon. He clambered higher up the tree, stopping at the point where he thought the branches might no longer support his weight.
Carter's lips curved into a smile.
Near the top of one of the closest cliffs was a flat bluff, and tucked into its back was a wide opening the size of a barn. It had to be where the dragon had gone.
Getting to the bluff took the rest of the morning. The climb was slow, and more than once, he was tempted to use magic to lift himself up the side, but ultimately he decided he should not expend his energies if he didn't have to.
Carter's fingers clenched a jagged piece of limestone, and he pulled himself onto a narrow ledge. From there, he shuffled up the final five parses and stepped onto the bluff. The stone, smooth to the touch, felt as if it had been polished.
Sweat ran down Carter's temples, and he took in deep breaths of the cool mountain air. He needed to calm down before entering the dragon's den. Trying to call upon his magic now wouldn't work.
To the southeast, past two low ridges, he saw smoke, but in the daylight he couldn't see any flames, and he didn't know if it was the forest or fields burning. Last winter had been a hard one, and losing crops right before harvest might break families that had no other way to survive. He hoped for the residents of Hal that it was the trees and not precio
us produce.
The bluff shook, and Carter's attention shifted back to the cave. The entrance curved to the right, so he couldn't see more than a few parses into it. The constant drumming he felt through the rocks suggested something big was moving on the other side. That was good. It meant the dragon was inside.
Some movement caught Carter's eye. Squinting, he saw a threehorned bullfrog squatting in the shadows of the cave. The frog hopped into the light and uncoiled its back legs from underneath rolls of fat. It let out a deep croak and sprawled on the polished rock, sunning itself.
Considering how the cliff would be impossible for a frog to climb, Carter figured the cave must lead to an underground river. This meant there might be an easier way down, and he wouldn't have to scale the treacherous cliff again. Calmed and centered, Carter made sure to step around the bullfrog and entered the cave.
A small antechamber lay past the curved entrance. He expected it to be filled with rough rock and dirt, but a vibrant mural greeted him. The painting wrapped around the cave, depicting strange creatures and unfamiliar landscapes. The largest portion of the mural was of a mighty plateau that disappeared into cloud banks.
Carter had no trouble seeing the mural. Crystalline columns flowed from the ceiling, and they shone with a sparkling ivory light.
