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

by Craig Halloran

  Nath charged straight at it.

  Like a snake it struck, jaws wide, then snapping shut.

  Nath slapped it.

  Whack!

  Bayzog felt the blow where he stood.

  The grey scaler recoiled and whined. Its neck rolled from side to side, and it shuffled off the road’s edge.

  Nath walked right at it.

  “You know what happened to your great brother, now, don’t you?”

  Its tongue flickered in and out of its mouth with a hiss, making Bayzog want to slap the evil thing.

  Nath beckoned with his claws and said, “Come, let’s finish this, wicked serpent.”

  Its serpent eyes were full of hate, but there was something else behind its fires. Respect. It backed farther from Nath and beat its wings. Up it went.

  Nath turned back to face his friends.

  “I’m glad to see everyone is all right.”

  The dragon dropped from the sky.

  “Dragon!” Ben yelled, “Look out!”

  Nath leapt out of the way a split second before it crashed to the ground. He was on his feet in an instant, his hair a red streak behind him. The dragon struck. Nath leapt over its head and locked his arms around its neck. The grey scaler writhed like a scaly worm. Its wings flapped with anger. It bucked like a maddened bull.

  Nath held on, squeezing its great neck until its tongue juttered from its mouth.

  Crack!

  Its body sagged, and it died.

  Nath tossed his head back and huffed for breath. His body trembled.

  Ben approached and said, “You killed it.”

  Bayzog didn’t know if Ben was shocked that the feat was accomplished or horrified that Nath had actually killed a dragon. He himself was already bewildered that Nath had survived a battle with the full-sized grey scaler.

  Nath sagged toward the ground, but Ben caught him up.

  “You all right?” Ben said, handing Nath his canteen.

  Nath drank. “I’m fine.” He straightened himself upright, clutched his side, and said with worry, “Where’s Brenwar?”

  Bayzog pointed where he had seen him land.

  “I like to assume he’s mostly all right. He took quite a fall.”

  Nath nodded and took a long look at all the dead dragons on the muddy road, and at the soldiers, too. “It’s sad it’s come to this.” He slapped Ben’s shoulder. “Looks like you all fought well.”

  “It’s us or them now, Nath,” Bayzog said. “Not much of a choice now. So I’m assuming we should get moving, that more are coming.”

  “No,” Nath said, walking back down the road and picking up Brenwar’s chest. “I took care of that.” He heaved it onto his shoulder. “And we have our horses back. So, to the Crystal Cities it is, then?”

  Bayzog caught movement in the corner of his eye. Brenwar marched through the grasses with the war hammer on his shoulder. His mouth twitched when he saw Nath, and his brows buckled.

  “What happened?” the dwarf said.

  “I’ll tell you later,” said Nath, walking on ahead.

  “Where’d all the blood on you come from?” said Brenwar. “It’s not that dragon’s.”

  Nath didn’t break his stride.

  “The bad guys.”

  Strife in the Sky

  The Chronicles of Dragon: Book 7

  By Craig Halloran

  CHAPTER 1

  Escape.

  The Tower of Narnum was more than it appeared to be. After they led him out of Selene’s chambers, the draykis soldiers led Gorlee down the great tower’s stairs. At the bottom of the tower, he caught a glimpse of the Free City. The markets. The banners. The unhappy faces on the normally robust people. It seemed only the orcs smiled out there.

  “Keep going,” Kryzak said, shoving him forward.

  It took almost an hour to walk down the steps, and Kryzak nudged him the entire way. He wasn’t sure if the draykis was just mean or if he held some sort of grudge against Nath Dragon. For whatever reason, it seemed personal.

  “I’ve kept pace every step,” Gorlee said, shaking his shackled arms and legs. “Your pushes aren’t making me any faster.” He sniffed the air. “How about I buy you a meal, Kryzak? We’ll take some time and settle things. Perhaps you can fill me in on this place, the Deep, that you’ve been talking about.”

  “We’ll have plenty of time to talk when we get down there,” Kryzak said. “Plenty of time. But enjoy the sounds, smells, and fresh air, Dragon.” He made a gruff snicker. “Things aren’t so pleasant in the Deep, and the food’s far from refined.”

  Gorlee continued shuffling forward with the chains dragging on the floor.

  “Oh, so there will be food, then. That’s good news. Are the draykis cooking?”

  A guard shoved a spear between his legs, making him tumble onto the tiles.

  “Always talking,” Kryzak said, kicking him in the gut. “You talk too much.” He kicked Gorlee again. “Shut it.”

  Gorlee rose to his feet with a groan. Things hurt, but he couldn’t let on. He was Nath Dragon now, with scales. Sort of. High Priestess Selene had said there would be another test for him to pass. She’d said she wasn’t convinced he was indeed Nath Dragon, and she’d hinted that the food he’d eaten might have some kind of effect.

  “Will you quit with all the violence?” he said, eyeing Kryzak. “Such actions are beneath a Warrior Priest like yourself.”

  “Everything is beneath me. Including scaly worms like yourself.” He shoved Gorlee. “The Deep awaits, Nath Dragon.”

  Led by his escort, they traversed the lower plaza of the great tower. People were doing business there. All sorts. Food. Wine. Tapestry. Robes. Tools. Many of them eyed Gorlee and the group of soldiers, muttering and whispering but keeping to themselves. Gorlee could hear their haunting whispers, though.

  “To the Deep he goes.”

  “Into the Deep he disappears.”

  “Never the same again.”

  “His mind will be twisted in fears.”

  “I hear their screams in the ground at night.”

  “Mercy, overlords! Mercy!”

  Kryzak’s penetrating stare sent them away.

  Gorlee’s belly fluttered.

  I need to run for it. I don’t want to know what this Deep is!

  He glanced around. Women, men, children. He could mimic any of them. Mimic a child whose limbs were too small for the chains and slip away, blend in, and vanish. He had the strength for it. He slowed.

  But he could feel Kryzak’s eyes still glued to him.

  They don’t expect me to run. I gave myself up willingly. What to do? What to do?

  One of the guards shoved him forward.

  Gorlee shoved him back.

  “I’m going!”

  Kryzak grabbed him by his hair and jerked his chin back.

  “Don’t get antsy around all of these people.” Kryzak pushed him onward. “But it happens when prisoners get their first look at the Deep.” He pushed Gorlee’s head in another direction.

  A cone-shaped structure made of metal bars that crisscrossed in odd designs jutted from the ground. Several armored guards stood inside and outside it. It was tall. Tall enough to reach the high point of the Plaza’s great vaulted ceiling, which was high enough for a giant to walk under. Gorlee felt a chilling breeze coming from the structure.

  “Take a look around,” Kryzak said. “You won’t have this kind of atmosphere for quite a while.” He made a nod. A pair of guards unlocked the metal door and swung it open.

  A strange howl filled Gorlee’s ears, coming from within the cage. He stepped closer and rose on his toes. A black hole with a rock rim gaped in the center. The fine hairs on his neck stood up.

  I don’t like this. Not one bit.

  “And I thought that was you howling.” Gorlee laughed. “But the hole is just as big.”

  Kryzak sneered and shoved him down.

  Gorlee fell to his hands and knees.

  This is it, Gorlee. Make a
run for it, or you’ll have to play this out. His mind raced. He was certain Selene had every intention of seeing him again. But had she done something to him? What is this test? He felt pixies fluttering in his stomach. Is it in that hole, or is it in me? What if she discovers who I really am? Will she kill me? Let me rot in the Deep? I’m not ready to die yet.

  “Not so eager to go in there, are you?”

  “Quite the contrary. Dragons love caves. Certainly you know that, don’t you, Kryzak?”

  Kryzak chuckled.

  “I think you’re scared.”

  “I’m not scared of anything. You know that.” Sultans of Sulfur. There’s no turning back now. There was a tight-knit group of draykis and guards around him. Even if he changed and confused them, it would be hard to make a break through them. They were armed and ready. He wasn’t.

  I should have tried this move back there. I had a window. I blew it.

  “And if you’d quit pushing me down, I’d be in the Deep by now.” He got up. “You know, Kryzak, I’m beginning to think you’ll miss my company. Is that it?” He walked inside the cone and stood along the rim of the Deep. It was pitch black, and the breeze was cold on his toes and neck. He shook his mane and combed his fingers through it. “A nice touch.”

  Smiling, Kryzak stepped over the rim and stood on the darkness.

  “Impressive,” Gorlee said, raising a brow. “I guess it’s not as deep as I thought.”

  Kryzak nodded.

  The draykis grabbed Gorlee by the arms and legs and hurled him into the Deep.

  Gorlee landed at Kryzak’s feet and slowly sank into the darkness.

  What madness is this?

  CHAPTER 2

  The travel was quiet. Peaceful. The sun peeked through now and again, only to be snuffed out by grey clouds. Bayzog kept his chin up and eyes alert, but his lids were heavy. His body ached and his mouth was sore.

  I don’t want to ever engage in melee again.

  The half elf combed his hair behind his ears. His thoughts wandered to Sasha and his sons. He needed to know how they were doing. He wanted them to know that he was well. Alive, despite the efforts of some dragons and a troublesome gnoll. He cracked a smile. I wonder if she’d ever believe I almost beat a gnoll in hand-to-hand combat. He rubbed the polished wood of the Elderwood Staff. Sort of.

  Ahead, Nath led, following the tree line an arrow-shot away from the distant road. Bayzog had faith that Nath’s eyes could keep a lookout on things. Ben rode alongside Nath, chatting with him from time to time. It gave him some comfort. Sometimes Nath liked to be left alone, but at the moment he didn’t seem temperamental. But there was plenty about Nath that was unpredictable.

  I wish Sasha were here. She has a way with him that we don’t.

  Brenwar, who usually rode on Nath’s other side, drifted back on his horse. The chest was secured on the back of his mount. Bayzog was relieved to see it. His feelings weren’t the same for Brenwar, however. After all, he had knocked the dwarf from the sky a day earlier.

  Brenwar grunted and eyed him with bushy brows.

  “I only did what I felt I had to do,” Bayzog said, avoiding his eyes. “And I figured you to be every bit as hardy as you look.” He could hear Brenwar squeezing the leather of his reins. “And you don’t seem hurt, aside from your limp … Wasn’t that better than being carried away and dropped elsewhere?”

  “Dwarven bones don’t break as easily as elven,” Brenwar said, taking his gaze away. “And…” He huffed. “And I’d have probably done the same. But only because you’re as light as a feather and would have drifted down in like fashion.”

  “Is that a jest?”

  “Aye, but never a truer remark.”

  Bayzog sat up in his saddle and cracked a smile.

  Brenwar added, “But don’t do it again.” He grunted. “You seem rattled. Would you like to peek into the chest? We’ve a ways to go yet, and it’ll ease your bones.”

  The dwarf’s comment filled a void inside him. Bayzog always felt like an outsider. Odd. He wasn’t the warring type. Not a master of steel. Not a soldier in armor. It was difficult for him to relate to the others because he trusted in magic and they trusted in what they understood: metal.

  Today, however, it was different. He and Brenwar had been searching for Nath for years, and even though there was a worthy degree of trust between them, this was the first time he felt Brenwar was not just an ally but a friend.

  “I’ve a feeling we’d better preserve our resources, but it’s a fine thing we have them.” He pulled back his shoulder. “And I’m sure the longer I stick with you, the more likely I’ll mend.”

  “Now you’re thinking like a dwarf. Ye might just make it yet.”

  Bayzog allowed a laugh but kept his eyes ahead on Nath.

  “He killed that grey scaler without a weapon, Brenwar,” Bayzog said. “And he slapped another around like an orc.”

  “I wish it had been an orc.”

  “Well, I think he slapped plenty of them around too. To death, it seems.”

  “Let’s hope not,” Brenwar grunted. “But like you, it troubles me. That look in his eyes. The power in his voice. It reminds me of someone.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “His father.”

  “Really?” Bayzog said, excited. “That’s a good thing, right?”

  ***

  Ben eyed Nath’s scales.

  Dark and beautiful, they had a way of winking in the sunlight. There was a quality about Nath and his presence that was unexplainable. Admirable. Captivating. Ever since the first time Ben had met Nath, he’d been amazed with him. That was twenty-five years ago. And now, himself a hardened warrior and a battle-scarred veteran of more than a hundred battles, he felt like a young man again.

  “Dragon, how far can you see?”

  Nath showed a pleasant smile over his strong chin and pointed into the sky.

  “You see that cloud, the white one with a ring around it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Keep an eye on it,” Nath said, “something is about to pass through it.”

  Ben squinted and shielded his eyes. Waited. Several seconds later, a flock of birds passed through the cloud. “Huh,” Ben said, then smiled at Nath. “But maybe that was a guess.”

  “A guess, huh,” Nath said, extending his hand. “Then hand me Akron.”

  “Why?”

  Nath eyed him.

  “All right,” Ben said, unhitching the bow from the lock on the back of his armor and handing it to Nath.

  Snap. Clatch. Snap.

  The bowstring twirled up and stiffened into place.

  “And an arrow,” Nath said, opening his palm.

  Ben reached into the quiver and felt the feathers of a shaft.

  “Moorite,” Nath added.

  “But there’s not that many—”

  Nath snapped his fingers, popping Ben’s ears.

  “Fine,” Ben said, handing it over, “Moorite it is.”

  Nath brought his horse to a halt, and Ben did the same. Slowly, Nath loaded the arrow and scanned the horizon. His red hair drifted gently in the breeze.

  “I don’t know what you’re shooting at, but please don’t waste that arrow.”

  Nath nocked the arrow and drew the string back along his cheek.

  His pull is so smooth, and he pulls with such ease!

  Nath closed one eye, aimed high, and released the shaft into the sky.

  Twang!

  Ben watched it sail one hundred yards, two hundred yards, and out of sight. He gawped.

  “Uh, no disrespect, Dragon. But you just wasted an arrow.”

  “Well, it’s my arrow,” Nath said. Clatch. Snap. Clatch. He handed Ben Akron. “Come along.” He directed his horse in the flight path of the arrow.

  Two hundred yards later, Ben said, “Are you going to find the arrow? A black sliver among the high grasses? It would be an impressive feat.”

  Nath didn’t reply.

  “We are going
to try to find it, aren’t we? Aren’t we, Dragon? Brenwar will be mad.”

  “He’s always mad.”

  “I suppose,” Ben said. “Does he have a difference between mad and happy?”

  Nath was smiling.

  “I guess if he’s happy, he’ll let you know.”

  Ben looked over his shoulder. Brenwar and Bayzog were far behind.

  “Have you ever seen him smile or laugh?”

  “He’s always told me that he does it on the inside. ‘The inside matters more than the out,’ he says. I think he’d been drinking when he first said that.” Nath pulled his horse to a stop. An elk with a great rack of horns lay dead on the grass with an arrow in its heart.

  “Impossible!” Ben exclaimed, getting off his horse.

  “I told you I had good eyes.” Nath slapped Ben’s shoulder. “Be of good cheer. You will all eat well tonight.”

  “What about you?” Ben said.

  Nath turned to him and said, “I need Fang.”

  Ben unstrapped it from his shoulder and handed it over.

  Nath buckled the sword’s scabbard around his waist and climbed back on his horse.

  “I’ll be back,” Nath said.

  “Where are you going?” Ben said.

  Nath dug his heels in and rode away.

  ***

  “Where’s he going?” Brenwar said, frowning. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “I’d like to see you stop him,” Ben replied. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back. I think.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Sasha sighed.

  “What is it, Mother?” asked her eldest son, Rerry.

  Rerry was a fine young part elf, little more than twenty years old. He had sandy hair and violet eyes like his father and was spry and well built, taking from his human side. He sat on a stool at Bayzog’s great table, rubbing oil on the blade of his longsword. He wore a light vest and fine trousers and always looked relaxed.

  “I think it’s these walls,” she said, rubbing a trinket on her necklace. It was enchanted. Something Bayzog had given her in case of trouble. It sparkled like a star when it hit the light right. “I miss my walks in the gardens.”

  Rerry hopped off his stool.