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

by Craig Halloran

  ***

  A six-legged bluu dragon crashed through the front doors of the assembly room and made an awful sound.

  “SQUAWK!”

  The glass panes shattered.

  Nath’s spine shivered and his knees buckled. He teetered back against the wall and braced himself. Normal weapons might not hurt him, but dragon fangs and claws were made of different matter.

  The dragon came inside, eyes narrowed, claws scraping all over the floor.

  Blast!

  Nath could handle most things, but having his sword and bow, Fang and Akron, would have been extremely helpful right now.

  “Not feeling so invincible now, are we?” Dormus yelled over from the fireplace, dangling the crystal amulet. “My, won’t this be interesting, seeing you eaten by one of your own.”

  Drool dripped on the floor from the dragon’s fangs and sizzled on the planks.

  Perhaps dragons have begun eating people like the little boy said. Things change.

  “We’ll see,” Nath said. He straightened himself on the wall. Beckoned the dragon on. “Come on, fella. Show your cousin what you’ve got.”

  The dragon charged, jaws wide, claws ripping up the wooden planks like a chicken’s beak rips through straw.

  Nath leapt into the rafters and watched the dragon crash through the wall.

  Dormus howled, but inside came another dragon.

  Great Guzan!

  There were two of them.

  Another came inside the busted front doors right after the other.

  Three of them! The boy had been right. Tell me there are no more!

  Nath and his friends had fought plenty since they’d taken down the hull dragon, a titan, outside of Troghlin, but that had been mostly people. These dragons were ferocious predators. Real killers. Powerful. Mature. Magical. Their black tails banged into the walls and off the floor with a thunderous sound.

  Squawk!

  Squawk!

  The dragons reared up on their back four legs beneath him. Jaws snapped open and shut like giant bear traps.

  Nath clung to the rafters. Need a plan! Need a plan!

  The first dragon popped its head back inside the wall and climbed back in. The room was filled with dragons now. Dark eyed and dark tailed. Possessed. Controlled.

  “Hahaha,” Dormus howled, holding up the amulet. “Such power in the palm of my hand. Rip him to pieces, dragons. Iddy biddy pieces!”

  A dragon jumped up and snapped at the rafters, landed, and burst through the floor.

  Nath scurried from rafter to rafter. The dragons crashed through the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Dormus heading for the front door. I need to get that amulet.

  The dragons jumped up one after the other. Their great jaws clamped on the wood beam rafters and ripped them down, where they broke the planked floor. The entire assembly room shook, and the building started to sway. Nath found himself cornered in the rafters above the fireplace.

  One of the dragons inhaled a deep breath.

  Guzan! I’ve got to get out of here!

  A stream of fire shot right at him.

  CHAPTER 8

  Pilpin blew the horn, but no trumpet blast came forth. The little dwarf shook it. “Awfully quiet for a horn, don’t you think?”

  “Blow it again. Harder this time!” Brenwar said, taking off at a run straight into town.

  Pilpin took a deep breath and gave it all he had.

  KA-KA-ROOOOOOOOOOOM!

  It sounded like something a giant moose would say.

  “Good!” Brenwar said. “That ought to do it.”

  “Do what exactly?” Pilpin said, running along his side. “You’ve never let me use the horn before. You just make me wear it like a necklace, which wouldn’t be so bad if it were made of gold perhaps. Not a lot of bling to it.”

  They splashed through the muddy streets, following the dragon tracks and rounding the corner.

  “By my beard!” Brenwar exclaimed. “There’s more of them!”

  Dragons, one by one, burst into a large building.

  “Nath must be in there!”

  “Why do you say that?” Pilpin said.

  A streak of flames shot through the room.

  “Because where there’s fire, there’s Nath Dragon.” He readied his war hammer. “You stay back, Pilpin. Wait.”

  “I’ll certainly not. I’ll fight when I want to. I’ll die when I want, too.”

  It wasn’t easy telling a dwarf to stay away from a fight. It was like telling a bear he couldn’t have honey, and it didn’t matter how big or small a dwarf you were. But orders were orders, and Brenwar gave the orders.

  “You’ll be in the fight soon enough. Wait.”

  A jangle of armor caught his ears. Soldiers of Barnabus filed into the streets from out of nowhere. Brenwar hadn’t thought there were a dozen in the whole town, but a full score showed up, fully armed for battle—orcs, gnolls, and lizard men. One race just as ugly as the other. Their dark eyes locked on the two dwarves. Their faces turned to snarls.

  “So,” Pilpin said, toying with a mace in one hand and a hand axe in the other, “do you still want me to wait?”

  “I think you’ve waited long enough,” Brenwar said, lowering his powerful shoulders. “Charge!”

  ***

  Gorlee pushed his face out of the grass and rolled onto his back. Everything in his body tingled. Stung with pain. It was the first time he felt the full wrath of a dragon’s tail.

  “I hope that never happens again,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his head.

  Squawk!

  Squawk!

  His head snapped around. No dragons were there. Just pain and rain. He heard a sound in the field behind him. A lone barn stood isolated from the others. Its massive doors swung open, and soldiers came out.

  Not more of those guys.

  The soldiers of Barnabus. A mishmash of the rotten races working together in the battle for evil. Gorlee was sick of seeing them. Determined. Obnoxious. Dangerous. Every last one of them. They cut through the grasses, armor and weapons rattling, and went into the streets.

  Gorlee groaned and forced himself to his feet. He checked his hands. One was stone and one was still orcen.

  “I’m going to have to do better than this if I’m to go after them.”

  He summoned his power and staggered into the streets behind them.

  ***

  Nath jumped away from the shower of fire onto the floor.

  The roof and rafters burst into flames.

  “Kill him!” Dormus screamed. “Stupid lizards! Kill him!”

  Nath hopped over a swishing tail.

  A second tail lashed out.

  Whop!

  He left his feet and hit the wall.

  Crack!

  He fell to his knees, clutching his chest. He had felt every bit of that. He shook his head and stood up with clenched teeth.

  “That’s enough of that now.”

  A dragon jumped on top of him, pinning him to the floor by the chest.

  “Get off me!” Nath pushed back its great neck with both hands.

  Saliva dripped from its fangs and sizzled on his chest.

  “Argh!” he said, “You’re making me mad now!”

  Memories flashed in his head. Childhood. He’d wrestled with dragons then, and they had walloped him good, time and time again. Sometimes in fun. Sometimes not. He could tell way back when that some dragons liked him but many dragons didn’t. They didn’t respect him for some reason. Maybe because he looked more like a man than a dragon. Maybe something else. But he had learned one thing: every time they beat him down, he had better get back up again.

  He threw a roundhouse punch into the dragon’s nose.

  Pop!

  The dragon reared up with a roar.

  Nath rolled away and sprang to his feet. He ducked and dodged claws and teeth. Pieces of the roof fell down in big chunks of burning wood. The room filled with smoke and heat. Nath jumped on the back of one a
nd wrapped his arms around its neck. He squeezed with all his might. His muscles bulged and popped.

  Squawk!

  The dragon thrashed. Wood splintered. Flames and smoke were everywhere. The dragon slung its head back and forth, but Nath held on. He squeezed harder. The dragon slammed him into the fireplace, ripping out the rock. Still Nath held on.

  The dragon staggered on its feet and sagged to the ground beneath the ruined floor.

  “That’s it! Go to sleep!” Nath said. He didn’t want to kill it. And he didn’t have to. He could put it to sleep if he could hold on long enough. His arms started to quiver. His dragon heart gave him a lot of power, but he couldn’t hold on forever.

  He peered through the smoke and fire. He couldn’t see anything. All he heard was the dragons squawking. They were still looking for him.

  Nath closed his eyes and heaved one last time. He could feel the dragon’s heartbeat and breathing begin to slow. It moved no more.

  “Good boy,” Nath said, blinking and fanning the smoke. It was thicker than water, but it didn’t bother him to breathe it. “One down and two to go.” He slipped off the dragon’s neck and waited, ready to spring on the next dragon that passed.

  A resounding crack came from above. He looked up just as the entire flaming building came crashing down on him.

  CHAPTER 9

  Brenwar sent two lizard men flying with a single blow.

  “Who else wants to kiss my hammer?” he yelled. He pointed to an orc that had long hair in its eyes. “You!” He swung again.

  The soldiers jumped back.

  The soldiers were a well-trained unit. Cautious, but confident. They formed a ring around the dwarves, two deep, maybe three.

  “Surrender, dwarves,” the lead orc said. Its was a tall one. Big muscles like the gnolls had. Covered in hair and heavy leather armor. Its dark eyes beamed from behind its helmet. “Surrender, and we won’t take the scourge to you. We’ll just kill you.”

  Pilpin huffed behind his back. The little dwarf bled and limped. A nasty gash creased his head. The handful of soldiers they’d charged had become a horde.

  “You won’t be killing anyone, snaggle teeth,” Brenwar warned. “It’s you that best surrender, not we.”

  Spears with long, curved tips lowered at their chests.

  “I’m going down swinging, Brenwar,” Pilpin said through his little brown beard. “And I’m killing that orc.” He spat on the ground. “It clipped my beard.”

  Whoosh!

  Crackle!

  The assembly building collapsed. Fire and cinders exploded everywhere. Smoke, dust, and debris filled the air.

  “Hah! Hah! Hah!” the orc laughed. “We’ll just toss them in there.” It gloated to its men. “Dwarves burn like coal. We used to use them to warm our stoves back in Thraag.” It snorted. “No good for eating, but good for cooking. Just be sure and shave their beards first. Smell bad burning. Awful bad.”

  “No one shaves my beard! And I’m not a lump of coal for baking loaves!” Pilpin charged. He hopped between two jabbing spears and brought his axe and mace around full circle.

  Whack! Chop!

  A gnoll barked out and fell to the ground. The soldiers piled on Pilpin, crushing him into the ground with their superior weight.

  Brenwar raised his hammer over his head.

  The knife-like spears licked out and cut his wrists. More spears pressed at his throat and neck.

  “Don’t even think about it, dwarf,” the orc said. “Drop it, and we’ll let the little one live.”

  Gnolls had Pilpin’s arms locked behind his back and his feet kicking above the ground. A knife was on his throat.

  “Bring it down, Brenwar!” Pilpin said. “They’ll kill us anyway! Gorla Mon Chok! Gorla Mon Chok!” The words were dwarven. Death before surrender.

  Pilpin was young for a dwarf. Only a couple hundred years old. He didn’t understand the burden that Brenwar carried. That Brenwar had to survive, and that sometimes in order to survive, you had to surrender.

  Brenwar lowered his hammer and set it on the ground.

  “Brenwar?” Pilpin said, blinking.

  The soldiers chuckled.

  “Seems the dwarves are no longer stubborn as stumps in the ground, as they used to be,” the orc said with its nostrils flaring. “Like I said, they’re nothing but bearded halflings anymore.”

  “Why you―” Brenwar started.

  The butt of a spear clocked him in the back of the head.

  “Settle yourself, dwarf. Else we cut the little one’s throat.”

  “Why don’t you anyway?” Pilpin said.

  “Because the dragons like their meals live and kicking. It does their bellies well.”

  Three six-legged bluu dragons crawled out of the flames of the ruined assembly building. A man in dark armor stood outside with a bright amulet on his neck, waving the dragons toward him. There was no sign of Nath. Brenwar felt his belly churn.

  “Hark!” the orc soldier yelled over to the man with the amulet. “We’ve dwarves! Shall we toss them in the fire or feed them to the dragons?”

  The man walked over, cutting through the ranks, and looked down on Brenwar. He wore the mark of an Overseer. He slung his greasy hair over his shoulder. He had a sharp nose, sagging chin, and dark features.

  “My,” he said, “is this Brenwar Bolderguild?”

  “Yes!” Pilpin said, struggling. “And you better think twice if you think you can stop him.”

  “Well, if I can stop Nath Dragon, I’m pretty sure I can stop his friends.” He looked over at the orc commander. “Just kill them.”

  The orc pulled out a knife and said, “Can I keep his beard?”

  “You can keep his toes for all I care,” Overseer Dormus said, walking away. “Just get it over with. I need Nath Dragon’s bones recovered once this fire is out.”

  ***

  Gorlee stood alongside a storehouse nearby. He’d seen most of everything but not all. The soldiers had Brenwar and Pilpin surrounded, but the roar of the fire drowned out their words.

  What to do? Think, Gorlee. Think!

  Gorlee was a Chameleon. A gifted and powerful race. He could change himself to look like any of the races. He could even turn his skin into stone or metal. But he couldn’t always think of the right thing to do at the right time. He watched the dragons drag their tails out of the flames and begin to prowl around the building with their great tails sweeping the muddy streets. He clutched his chest.

  Is Nath in there? Is that what they’re looking for? Is he buried in the timber and flames?

  An idea struck him. He changed form. Black scales and sharp claws formed over his hands.

  Nothing brave about being a fool and nothing foolish about being brave.

  He ran out into the streets, waving his scaly arms high. His red hair was blowing in the wind.

  “Here! Over here, dragons! Hah! Hah! Hah!” Gorlee laughed. “Catch me if you can!”

  The man with the bright crystal on his neck whirled. Hatred filled his eyes. He held the amulet up high.

  “Kill him! Kill Nath Dragon!”

  The soldiers turned their focus from the dwarves and started to run.

  “Not you!” the Overseer said. “Stay put! Let the dragons handle this.”

  Gorlee sprinted for the fields, taking quick glances over his shoulders. Dragons were fast. Six-legged dragons were even faster.

  Stupid idea! This isn’t going to do it!

  The dragons were gaining.

  Ah, if I could only turn into a rover horse. Why can I only do races and not the animals? Why can’t I make stuff up? Be strong as stone and still able to talk and fly? I wish I could spread wings like an eagle and fly away. Guzan!

  He glanced over his shoulder. The dragons would be on him at any moment.

  Never thought I’d see the day when I might not see the next.

  The farmlands stretched out all around. The plowed fields were muddy, slowing him down. Gorlee’s breath started to labo
r. Go for the cornfields.

  I never run!

  He stumbled and fell into a mud hole.

  Splash!

  He scrambled up, feet deep in the mud, and found himself eye to eye with three dragons.

  Sultans of Sulfur!

  CHAPTER 10

  All the soldiers turned toward the voice of Nath Dragon, who waved his arms in the air, yelling like a fool, and dashed away like a deer. Brenwar didn’t hesitate. He batted the spears away and snatched the war hammer off the ground. He swung. Bang!

  An orc lay on the ground with a large dent in its helmet.

  Brenwar swept the hammer left and right, knocking the soldiers aside, cutting a path right through them. Nath was out of sight, and the dragons raced after him.

  Glitch!

  A spear jabbed into the back of his shoulder.

  Brenwar whirled.

  A gnoll’s flail caught him full in the chest. Down Brenwar went.

  One by one, the soldiers of Barnabus piled on top of him, clawing, biting, and stabbing. His dwarven armor was the only thing keeping him together.

  He jammed his fist into a lizard man’s snout one last time before they pinned his arms and wrists down.

  The orc stood over him and kicked him in the ribs. With its knife, it shaved the hair off its coarse arms. “Any final words, dwarf?”

  “It’s raining,” Brenwar said.

  “Huh?” the orc grunted, holding out his palm, watching the rain splatter on it. “That’s it. Sounds like you rattled his skull, men! Ha!”

  They let out a round of throaty chuckles.

  “I’m not finished,” Brenwar growled.

  “Oh, please do finish before you die.”

  “It’s raining … dwarves!”

  Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!

  Dwarves fell out of the sky like giant bearded pumpkins and landed on the soldiers. Bone crunched. Guts squished. They started swinging and singing. The soldiers of Barnabus were overwhelmed. And then the dwarves cried out at the same time.