The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10)

by Craig Halloran

  “He knows I can’t keep up with him,” Brenwar said, shaking his war hammer. “That’s cheating. He wants to kill it all by himself! Well, I ain’t going to let that happen!”

  Bayzog would never get used to the dwarven spirit of fighting anything anywhere. The hull dragon’s roar was the most terrifying thing he’d ever heard. Not to mention what he’d seen. This was a monster in every sense of the word. Terrifying. He wanted to run. Hide. He had to act.

  “What are you waiting on, wizard?” Brenwar pointed. “Get us up there.”

  “What do you mean?” Bayzog said with a tremor in his voice.

  “We’ve got to help Nath,” Brenwar said. “Pilpin! Get the chest and make it quick!”

  Bayzog’s mind was scrambled. Fighting humanoids was one thing. A three-story dragon was another thing. It might be impossible to wound. He rubbed his smoke-stung eyes. The town was about to perish. He wasn’t sure what to do. Save the town or his friend?

  “I hope yer doing something, wizard!” Brenwar said. “Because standing here isn’t helping anything.”

  Bayzog shook his head and pointed his staff at the lake. He started an Elvish chant, twirling the staff in tight circles. A funnel spouted out of the water.

  “Get everyone clear,” Bayzog yelled.

  The tornado of water raced up the beach, over the boardwalk, and into the town, washing every burning building in sight. The flames started to sizzle and extinguish. Smoke began to roll like a heavy fog.

  “Let’s hope that does it,” Bayzog said, watching the tornado attack any flame in its path. “Let’s go after Nath.”

  Bayzog and Brenwar raced after the hull. Nath was leading it away, toward the rocks, a good thing, but they were too far away to help. The beast was distant, and Bayzog was already laboring for breath. Brenwar didn’t move very fast on his short legs, either.

  The hull had slowed to a stop. There was a bright-blue flash, and the great dragon disappeared.

  “By my beard! Did you see that?” Brenwar said. “It’s gone. Nath better not have killed it!”

  Bayzog could see Nath standing all alone in the field with his bow ready when another blinding flash hit. While Bayzog was blinking the stars from his eyes, the hull appeared again. It was right behind Nath.

  Bayzog and Brenwar started waving their arms and yelling and pointing.

  “Move! It’s behind you.”

  ***

  Nath was staring at an empty field. Where a moment earlier a hull dragon the size of a large building had stood was nothing. A strange smell of something burning tickled his nose. Something flashed like lightning behind him. That’s when Bayzog and Brenwar appeared far away, waving frantically. He felt a giant shadow above him. He turned. The hull was right over the top of him, clutching at his head.

  “No!”

  He fired into the hull’s great belly. Point-blank range.

  Kaboom!

  The blast blew him off his feet. He sailed head over heels. His limbs were numb. A lizard’s foot the size of a horse rose and came down.

  “Not again!”

  Nath balled up like a rock.

  Thoom!

  Pain erupted all over. Things cracked and squished in his body. He couldn’t move. He’d only been awake a few days, and now the thought of any more days was over.

  Death lingered over Nath in the form of the ugliest dragon he’d ever seen. It leaned down and roared at him once more. He thought his ears would burst. He tried to cover them. His arms wouldn’t move fast enough.

  If I can move, I can fight.

  He rolled up to one knee and reached for his bow. It lay in the grass a few feet away, but it might as well have been a mile. With every muscle in pain, he stretched out for it.

  The hull sucked in another great breath and fixed its fiery blue eyes on him.

  Shoot it, Nath! Shoot!

  He was too late. Down came the fire. Down came the pain.

  ***

  “Take hold of my staff, Brenwar!” Bayzog said.

  “What fer?” the dwarf replied.

  “Never mind then,” Bayzog said. He started summoning his power. He needed to get to Nath and get there quick.

  Brenwar wrapped one paw around the staff and said, “Oh no you don’t. You won’t be fighting that dragon without me. Now hurry up will youuuuuuuuu—”

  Bayzog fixed his eyes on Nath. Power surged in his veins. He envisioned himself moving instantly from where he was to where he needed to be. A portal opened. He stepped through time and space. A split second later he was under the hull’s gaping mouth.

  “You trying to get us killed, wizard?” Brenwar yelled.

  Bayzog jammed the elderwood staff into the ground and shouted.

  “Moooorentanglaheeen Loooores!”

  A geyser of blue fire erupted from the dragon’s snout. Blue jags of lightning scattered everywhere.

  Bayzog took a breath. His protective dome had formed.

  It covered them all: Brenwar, himself, and Nath.

  Nath fought his way back to his feet, shaking. He clutched his head and sides. He looked more dead than alive.

  “Thanks,” Nath managed to say.

  The hull started pounding away at the mystic dome. It scratched, clawed, and kicked. Its blows were thunder, its eyes lightning.

  “I can’t hold it much longer!” Bayzog said, arms shaking. “We have to be ready to run!”

  “Run?” Brenwar said. “There be no running. Take down that shield. Me and my war hammer be ready.”

  Bayzog’s arms trembled and his knees started to bend. The hull was seconds away from overtaking them. All of them.

  “Just give me a little more time, Bayzog!” Nath said.

  The hull rammed his horns into the dome. It started cracking.

  “I can’t hold it any longer,” Bayzog said. “If you’re going to do something, do it now.”

  ***

  Nath had hunting arrows, moorite arrows, and exploding arrows, but he didn’t think any of them could do the trick. Not alone. He laid his quiver down at his side and pulled his last three exploding arrows out and wet the tips. They glowed with red light. He nocked them all on Akron’s string.

  Taking a knee, he took aim. Stretching the bowstring tight, his chest and shoulders burned like fire. Something inside him had broken, but he held his aim.

  “Give me your best, Akron,” he said.

  The hull drew back its great arm, punched, and shattered the dome.

  Bayzog collapsed in a heap of robes, bleeding at the nose.

  The enormous hull dragon reared up and exposed its great neck.

  “Cover Bayzog, Brenwar!”

  Nath let the arrows fly.

  Twang!

  KABOOM!

  The hull stumbled backward and toppled like a stone.

  Nath skipped across the burning grass.

  Everything was hazing. Ringing. Quiet and smoking.

  Somehow, Nath rolled to his knees.

  Brenwar helped Bayzog to his feet, and they stood there gaping.

  The hull was slowly struggling to rise. It shook its great neck. It was angry. Worse: it was still living.

  Nath’s clawed hand fell on Fang’s hilt.

  “I need you now more than ever, brother.”

  The hilt was hot, but not burning.

  He unsheathed the blade. It was bright as the sun.

  Nath raised it over his head and charged, yelling, “I am Dragon!”

  Brenwar sped after him with his war hammer ready.

  Bayzog rushed with his staff.

  Nath jabbed Fang into the hull’s chest. Ice formed over its scales. It spread fast.

  Bayzog encircled its legs with mystic energy.

  Brenwar busted it in the snout.

  Ka-Raaaaang!

  The great beast writhed over the ground. It squirmed and hissed.

  “Get out of here, Bayzog!” Nath yelled. “And watch out for its tail!”

  The tail flickered with blue fire and struck
Nath like a jolt of lightning.

  “Aargh!”

  Pain erupted in every inch of his body. He held on. He drove Fang deeper.

  The great hull dragon roared.

  Brenwar popped it in the snout again.

  The tail licked out. Cracked like thunder and struck Brenwar in the chest, skipping him over the stones.

  “Nooo,” Nath yelled, yanking Fang free.

  He gritted his teeth.

  “Try that again!”

  The tail flicked his way again, flashing like lightning.

  Nath swung Fang with all his might.

  Slice!

  He clipped the end of the tail off.

  The hull twisted and howled. The blue lights in its eyes went black. The crackling energy on its horns disappeared. Its tail swished back and forth like a headless snake.

  Brenwar rose up from the rocks and charged over. He brought war hammer down on the back of the hull dragon’s skull.

  The hull moved no more.

  CHAPTER 38

  The battle was won. Troghlin was saved and everyone was celebrating. Everyone but Nath, Bayzog, Ben, Gorlee, Brenwar, and the dwarves. They’d moved on, leaving the remains of the hull to the townsfolk of Troghlin to deal with.

  “I don’t suppose there is any turning back now,” Bayzog said. His eyelids seemed heavy. “I agree. Now that you’re awake, we might as well take it to them. But let’s pursue with wisdom.”

  Nath groaned. Everything ached. His head. His toes. And the air tasted funny. Awful actually. Everything felt awful. Still, he limped along, just like the others, glad to be alive.

  “I don’t think a little caution ever hurt anyone,” he said. “I’ll do my best to heed your advice.”

  “Sure you will,” Brenwar said. “And the day that happens, I’ll shave my beard. Har!”

  They headed west along the lake for miles until they reached a series of huts stretched out over the water. They were connected by a series of catwalks and piers, and Bayzog took them inside one near the middle. It was larger on the inside than it looked on the outside and sparsely furnished.

  “Remote enough to hide us for now,” Bayzog said. “Let’s rest our eyes and keep our ears peeled. Now that the hull is down, our enemies will hesitate before they come after us. We’ll be long gone by then.”

  “Gone to where?” Nath said.

  “Wherever you lead us,” Bayzog said.

  Nath eyed Bayzog. It was hard to believe that he really meant that.

  “We’re going after the head of the Clerics of Barnabus,” Nath said, “And there will be no fuss about it.”

  “This is your decision, not mine,” Bayzog said. The wizard set down his staff and leaned back against the wall. His violet eyes seemed to glow. “I’m just here to advise you. It’s up to you to lead.” He looked over the room. “To lead all of us.”

  Nath felt all the eyes on him. He felt sacrifice. Courage. All the good in their hearts. There were plenty of people in Nalzambor just like them, suffering something dreadful. All because of him, and he still didn’t understand why. War was coming. He felt it in his busted bones. It was time to make things right.

  They’d just defeated a hull. If they could handle that, they should be able to handle anything. He forced a smile. His golden eyes flashed.

  “Then our hunt begins tomorrow.”

  The Chronicles of Dragon

  Book 6

  Siege in the Settlements

  CHAPTER 1

  “It doesn’t smell right to me,” Brenwar grumbled through his beard.

  “What’s it smell like?” Nath said, squinting his eyes and peering down below.

  Brenwar snorted.

  “Trap.”

  Nath huffed. “You said that the last two times, yet no surprises, except us.”

  “Trap,” Brenwar said, glowering at him.

  It had been almost a year since they had defeated the hull dragon just outside of Troghlin. Nath and company had been running all over Nalzambor ever since. They had started with the smaller towns and villages, liberating them one at a time, bringing hope and peace back to a devastated land. It was little, but better than nothing. It slowed the Clerics of Barnabus and the evil dragons from gaining a superior foothold on all the lands.

  Nath rose out of his crouch. “I’ll go take a closer look.”

  Brenwar snatched his arm. “No you won’t.”

  Nath twisted out of Brenwar’s iron grip with ease. It seemed that not so long ago, he couldn’t break it at all, but in reality, it was over twenty-five years ago.

  “Take it easy, Brenwar. We can scout another day or so if you insist.”

  Nath hunkered back down into the dry woodland overlooking the settlement. It was once a well-known and thriving farming and trading community with thousands of people that worked west of the Settlements. The land was still good there, or at least it had been. Much had changed since the last time Nath had been here. The green forest and high grasses had lost their luster, and many of the crop fields were bare. It happened in times of war, and war was everywhere now. Nath snorted a smoke ring.

  “Will you stop doing that,” Brenwar said, covering Nath’s nose.

  Nath leaned away. “They won’t see anything. We’re too far.” He held out his scaled palm. Tiny drops of rain splattered on it. “Not to mention the fog that lowers like doom.”

  Brenwar turned from him. For another two hours, they sat like the stones their butts rested on.

  Fog rolled down from the hilltops into the small town and stretched through the muddy road like a ghostly hand.

  “You have a good count?” Nath said.

  “Of course.”

  Nath had a good count too. Not just the headcount of the enemies that had captured the small town below but something else. The grey hairs in Brenwar’s black beard were many, the hard lines on his forehead no longer few. Brenwar had seen a lot while Nath slept, and Nath had a feeling it was more than he’d seen in his dwarven lifetime altogether. And there was more to come. He could feel that in his scales.

  “What are you staring at?” Brenwar said. “No one stares at a dwarf and—”

  “—ever stares again,” Nath finished. “I know.”

  “It’s true. Not even dragons.” Brenwar turned from him again.

  Nath shook his head. He heard Bayzog’s voice inside his head. Focus, Nath. Focus. He had to admit that Brenwar and Bayzog had made some progress with him. He was more willing to listen than he had been before. He wasn’t sure if that was from guilt or wisdom, however. Probably some magi mind trick. He twiddled his thumbs. Scratched markings with his claws on rocks. Hummed a little tune.

  “Will you stop that?” Brenwar’s face was red.

  Nath huffed. Rolled his eyes. He was bored. Very bored. They had been watching this village for two days and nothing had happened. The village kept up with its chores under the watchful eye of the Overseers of Barnabus. There were about twenty of them, consisting of lizard men, orcs, and Clerics. They carried steel and cracked whips with heavy hands. The villagers gathered supplies for the caravan trains. They pushed carts dusk till dawn and dawn till dusk. The children no longer played. The women no longer sang happy tunes of the old, old world. Instead, they all worked their fingers raw to feed and equip their oppressors.

  Nath grabbed Brenwar by the shoulder.

  “Let’s go down there and put a stop to this. The fog is a perfect cover.” His golden eyes flashed. “They won’t even know we’re there.”

  “We wait,” Brenwar said, combing his fingers through his beard. He eyed it. “Better be no pixie in there.” He grunted. “Aye … we wait. Some supplies be going or suppliers be coming. And I don’t like the smell of this place.”

  Nath wrapped his scaled arms around his knees. “You’d let Gorlee go.”

  “That’s because he’s a Chameleon. You’re a scaly man or a pale-faced dragon. Not sure which, but you’re not going.”

  “Need I remind you that you aren’t in c
harge?” Nath said, mindful of his tone. “And if I want to go, I’ll go … and Brenwar, I think I should go.”

  Brenwar looked back at him with eyes as hard as coal. Brenwar’s knuckles were white on his war hammer’s shaft, and the leather binding creaked.

  The old dwarf said through clenched teeth, “You’re insufferable. Just go. Scout. Be quick and report.”

  Nath’s eyes widened. “Are you—”

  “Go!”

  Nath made it halfway down the mountain, stopped, and looked back. It was the first mission Brenwar had let him go on without further planning and consultation. Even though Nath led, they still had input from the groups. They planned. They backup planned. They backed up the backup plan. And it worked. Thousands had been liberated and hundreds defeated.

  “Just do it right, Dragon,” he said to himself, heading back down the hill. It didn’t matter if there were ten, twenty, or fifty Barnabus soldiers there. He’d take them all. He clenched his fist. “They can’t stop me.”

  Near the bottom of the mountain, he stopped and waited within the edge of the trees. Night had fallen. He could see the fog rolling through a field of gravestones nearby. Mounds of dirt from the graves were only weeks old. Roast the oppressors!

  The town was little more than a collection of small buildings used for commerce and storing goods. Small cabins spread out along the edges like mushrooms and beyond that, farms. It was common in Nalzambor. Farmland dotted with towns, each with a special uniqueness and craft of its own. Some towns farmed, and others mined, wove cloth, or made candles. Many raised acres of livestock.

  The townspeople were hauling in the last of the day’s work. Soldiers in dark armor inspected the goods. Some of the robed Clerics of Barnabus counted the goods while others counted the people. Nath could smell the evil in them. He could feel the fear in the people, too. They were scared. Uncertain of what tomorrow might bring as they tried to live out another day. He donned the hood of his cloak and slipped into town, moving first from cabin to cabin and then from storehouse to storehouse. The people gathered their children, secured their doors, and talked in low voices. Candles didn’t even flicker inside the cabins.