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

by Craig Halloran

  Shards of fire scattered in the sky and drizzled toward the ground.

  “What kind are they?” Ben asked.

  “Bull dragons.”

  “They seem awfully big. Are they a problem?”

  Nath looked down at him and nodded.

  “They’re a problem times ten.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Bayzog got off his horse and let it drink from the river. All the others in the company did the same. Hours earlier, Nath and Ben had come back to share what they had discovered. When he’d found out the Floating City hosted dragons, his stomach had sunk into his toes.

  “Do you really think it’s that bad?” Nath said ironically, wading into the waters. He scooped up a drink. “What’s a few dozen dragons? … Including a couple of bulls.”

  Bayzog slumped on the Elderwood Staff.

  I feel old. I should not, but I do. He rubbed the pendant under his robes.

  “You miss her, don’t you?” Nath said. “I would too. Well, I do. After all, I’ve not seen her in twenty-some years.”

  Brenwar stormed over.

  “So, do we have a plan? Or do we wait to become dragon toast?” He eyed the sky. “I don’t think it’s the best idea to be in the wide open.”

  “I don’t hear anything,” Nath said. “Take a moment and relax, Brenwar.”

  “Do you see a barrel of ale around here?”

  Nath shook his head.

  Ben walked over with his thumbs hitched in his belt and said, “Do we have a plan?”

  Bayzog liked to plan. He lived for it, but at the moment he was at a loss.

  Giving it a shot, he said, “We’re here to find out who mines the crystal shards. And I’m not so sure angling for the Floating City is the best route.” He pulled the shard out of a pocket in his robes. “But I think a visit to the citizens of the River Cities might garner some answers.”

  “An excellent idea,” Brenwar said with a snort. “We just waltz in there and ask them. A dragon, an elf, and a dwarf. Ha!”

  “We have our advantages,” Bayzog said, eyeing Brenwar’s chest.

  “No, no, no,” Brenwar said, “I’ll not be drinking any more potions again. No.”

  Bayzog missed Gorlee. The chameleon was priceless at times like this.

  “We can send Ben,” Nath suggested. “He’d fit in, and I bet he could discover a few things.”

  Ben shrugged.

  “I can do it.”

  “No sense splitting up now,” Brenwar said. “We lose one and we all might be lost. I’m not for it.” He turned his nose up at the sky. “Let’s just climb up there and see what we find.”

  “I thought you’d show a little more patience, Brenwar,” Nath said. “We won’t end this war in a day.”

  “Maybe not, but I want to. And you should too. Time is our enemy. The deeper evil burrows, the more difficult to extract it.”

  “Another day won’t hurt anything,” Nath said.

  “Lives are over in a second, Dragon,” Brenwar said.

  Bayzog had never seen Brenwar so impatient before. It bothered him.

  “I know,” Nath said, “but we’ve made it this far being patient. That saves lives just as well.”

  Brenwar harrumphed.

  “Ben,” Bayzog said with a nod, “I think it’s time you got a closer look at the River Cities.”

  “Agreed.”

  ***

  A mile upriver, farmlands and rolling terrain stretched as far as the eye could see on their side of the river. They released the horses there and waited long enough to watch them gallop out of sight. Brenwar hefted the dwarven chest on his shoulder, and Nath led the way. Bayzog had gotten used to Nath’s senses. It was as if he could see and hear everything. He tripped on his robes catching up to him.

  “Nath, something disturbs me,” Bayzog said.

  “Oh, and what is that?”

  “Are the senses of other dragons as keen as yours?”

  “Good question,” Nath said, stepping over a fallen tree. “And I’d like to think not, but I can’t say for sure. Their eyes are better than those of eagles, but I don’t think them so motivated to find us.”

  “Why not?”

  “Dragons don’t worry about things as much as the races do. They are aloof. Not stupid, not by any means. But other than a love for people’s treasure, they have little care for people. Don’t bother them, they don’t bother you, unless you’re a gold or ruby statue.” He sliced some branches down with his claws. “It’s the soldiers we need to worry about.”

  “And those bull dragons,” Bayzog said, “are they of no concern?”

  “Well, they’re guarding the Floating City for a reason. I assume your hunch about the crystals is right.”

  “And after what happened at Jordak’s Pass, they’ll figure we’re coming this way.” He checked the sky. The Floating City’s tower tops hung behind the mountains, but he could see other chunks of rock that floated in the air. “And they probably have eyes everywhere?”

  Ben gazed upward at his side and said, “If the crystals float like that, then why don’t people use them to fly like birds?”

  “It’s not a property they have,” Bayzog said, sipping from his flask. “Though they are the rarest and most precious stones in Nalzambor. It’s called jaxite. And what you see in the sky is where it comes from.”

  “It looks alive,” Ben said.

  Bayzog nodded. “Jaxite means ‘living rock’ in the old tongue. The histories say that whoever controls the jaxite controls the world. So the Wizards of Renown built a city on top of it and guarded it closely. But not all agreed on how the rock should be used. The races from all Nalzambor came to claim it. They warred for years, and the peaceful River Cities ran red with blood. The Wizards of Renown were wise. War prompted them to place a curse on the jaxite.”

  “What kind of curse?” Ben asked, fingering the hilt on his sword.

  Bayzog cracked a smile.

  “A powerful one that is as plain as you see. Unifying their powers, they cast a great and mighty spell that lifted the jaxite from the earth to the sky. That is what you see now. And they added another spell as well. One that made the jaxite even harder to mine than moorite. It took a few years, but the races finally gave up after that. The jaxite had become useless.”

  “But it seems useful now,” Nath said, climbing up a rock and lending a hand one by one to the others.

  “Hence the reason for this quest,” Bayzog said, taking Nath’s hand. “And every bit of information we can acquire from the River Cities will be of great use before we venture above.”

  He found himself overlooking the river that flowed through the majestic River Cities. Buildings of stone and wood lined the sandy edges of the riverbank clear off into the distance. The wharfs were busy with people who looked as small as insects they were so far away, loading and unloading cargo, mostly from small craft and barges. But a few big suppliers dipped great oars in the water.

  “Seems like a nice place to live,” Ben said, starting down the other side of the rock. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Wait, Ben,” Bayzog said.

  Ben clamored back up the rock with a groan.

  “Time’s wasting.”

  Bayzog gestured to the dwarven chest on Brenwar’s shoulder.

  “May I?

  Brenwar set it down with a grunt and opened it up. The vials of potions popped up in rows. In the bottom of the chest was an assortment of other things: clothing, pendants, rings, scrolls, and many other baubles and trinkets.

  “How can so many things be inside a chest that is so small?” Ben asked.

  “Magic,” Nath said, patting his shoulder.

  Inside, Bayzog found a small jar of dark-green ointment. He pulled the lid off and dipped his fingers inside it. “Come, Ben,” he said, holding his fingers out.

  “What are you doing with that?” Ben said, frowning.

  Bayzog rubbed it on Ben’s cheeks and muttered some mystic words.

  Ben’s face
shone brightly, then dulled.

  “Is that it?” the warrior said.

  Bayzog capped the jar and set in back in the chest.

  “That’s it.”

  “What does it do?”

  “It’s Adderack’s Aversion Balm. It will keep the soldiers from pressing you.”

  “Does it make me ugly?”

  “You’re already ugly,” Brenwar said.

  Nath laughed.

  “You’re fine, Ben,” Nath said, staring at him. “Just different. The balm works well.”

  Bayzog nodded. Ben’s visage had gone from something strong to something forgettable.

  “You should go,” the part-elven wizard said.

  “Agreed,” Nath and Brenwar said.

  “But,” Ben said, but Nath was already shoving him along.

  “Find the Water Dog Inn,” Bayzog said, “and don’t ask too many questions.”

  “Be back by dawn,” Nath said, waving him onward, “Now hurry on.”

  Ben looked back over his shoulder a couple times then disappeared into the woods.

  “That was strange,” Nath said, “but really effective. And he’s going to need it.”

  “Why do you say that?” Bayzog said.

  “Because those little people in the cities you can’t see,” Nath said, pointing down the river, “most of them aren’t citizens. Those are Barnabus soldiers.”

  “Are there many orcs?” Bayzog said.

  “Some. Why?”

  “Oh, well, let’s just hope he doesn’t cross too many of them. They aren’t often disturbed by uncomely anything.” He shrugged and glanced down the path Ben had taken.

  “Should I go after him?” Nath said.

  “I’m sure it will be all right. Ben is a cautious man.”

  CHAPTER 15

  The phantom dropped down on Gorlee, covering him instantly in darkness. His big triant body shuddered from the cold, and fear sank into his bones. The phantom’s voice was an eerie howl in his head.

  Keep going, Gorlee. Keep going!

  He squeezed his eyes shut and steadied himself. Pushed hard on the rocks that supported his enormous frame. Brenwar’s voice spoke in the back of his mind.

  Courage frightens evil.

  He dug into the rock and surged upward.

  The phantom tore at him like a mighty black wind.

  I have courage!

  Up Gorlee went.

  I hate evil.

  The phantom pulled at his arms and legs. It felt like icicles were forming on them. He shook. He dug in.

  I have courage. I hate evil.

  No longer shackled by the moorite chains, Gorlee climbed a dozen feet at a time. Straining against the dark force, he continued his ascent of the great pipe that led out of the Deep.

  I have courage. I hate evil.

  The phantom let out more angry shrieks the higher he climbed. He could feel its hatred. It stabbed at his heart with frigid hands.

  He screamed, but no sound same. He slid downward, toes and fingers clawing at the walls. He pushed his mighty arms into the sides of the hole.

  No! I have courage. I hate evil.

  His ascent began again. Up, up, up the deep well he went.

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  Blinded, he kept going. One hundred feet. Two hundred feet. Minute after agonizing minute.

  I have courage. I hate evil. Five hundred feet. Arms trembling and legs shaking, he summoned all of his strength.

  The phantom passed through him. Shocked him. Burned him. Poked icy holes in him. Gorlee did not stop.

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  Every minute was agony. Forever. Tormenting.

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  His hand felt a rim.

  Can it be?

  He swung his elbow over the ledge. The phantom howled and yanked him back down to his fingertips. He hung there with all the phantom’s power and hate pulling him back down in. Gorlee’s grip slipped. He hung onto the lip with one hand.

  The phantom howled in triumph.

  No! I will not fall! I will not fall!

  His fingers started slipping.

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  I have courage! I hate evil!

  He channeled his reserve power. His bones popped and crackled. His hulking form grew once more. He tore his arms away from the phantom’s grip, grabbed the rim, and heaved himself upward.

  The phantom covered him like a black slime. It felt like being in a tar pit. He pulled one arm free from the blackness then another. His head burst into the light. The phantom screamed. One leg at a time, Gorlee climbed out. He sucked in the fresh air.

  The air was like a long-lost friend. The bewildered faces of the guards were not. Two lowered their spears and charged. Gorlee snatched them up in his hands, bopped their heads together, and tossed them into the Deep.

  He turned and found himself inside the cage. His head peered over the fifteen-foot-tall gate. He looked at all the startled faces and growled, scattering the gathering crowd. The soldiers readied weapons and spears. One shouted up at him.

  “You get back in that well! That’s an order!”

  Gorlee grabbed the metal bars and ripped them out of the floor one by one. He stepped through the threshold, throttled all the soldiers of Barnabus he could get his hands on, and fled into the night.

  I’m free!

  CHAPTER 16

  High Priestess Selene broke the grand table in half with her black tail.

  Crack!

  “How did this happen?” she demanded. “Escape from the Deep is impossible!” She walked up to Kryzak and wrapped her tail around his neck. “Isn’t it?”

  The big draykis was rather calm when he said, “It was until now.”

  She squeezed a little harder, turning his face purple, and released him.

  Kryzak gasped and rubbed his throat.

  Selene’s tail swished back and forth. Her lip curled. She didn’t completely understand what had just occurred. Days ago, she’d sent Nath Dragon into the Deep. She had had doubts it was really him. Something was not quite right, but time in the Deep would reveal any man’s secrets. And the Deep held its own secret. She resumed her seat on the throne and sat down. The drulture flew over and nestled on her lap. She shooed it away. With a growl, out the window it went.

  “Tell me what happened once more,” she said to Kryzak. The war cleric wasn’t alone, either. Ten guards were there that had witnessed the event. Four draykis stood ready in the room.

  Kryzak cleared his throat.

  “A triant emerged.”

  Selene huffed.

  “Tore out the bars of the cage like candlesticks off a table and throttled a dozen guards.”

  “And it wasn’t the triant Bletver?” she said, toying with her silky hair.

  “The phantom states that Bletver remains below,” Kryzak said, taking a breath, “but he’s incapacitated. And there are no signs of Nath Dragon. We just have these.” He held out the trousers that Gorlee had been wearing and draped them over the back of the chair.

  “And what is the phantom’s excuse?”

  “It offered none.”

  “And the triant,” she said, “it just disappeared? All fifteen feet tall of it, assuming your little soldiers aren’t exaggerating.”

  “A hundred soldiers comb the streets,” Kryzak said, “and I swear we’ll catch this—”

  “You’ll catch nothing!” she said, rising to her feet. “You suppose you can find anything the Deep cannot contain?” Her voice echoed in the chamber. She rubbed her head. She sighed. “But you can try, Kryzak. And I’ll even offer your soldiers some incentive.” She eyed the soldiers kneeling face first on the floor. “For every hour you do not find hi
m, two soldiers will die. And I believe an hour has passed already.”

  “As you wish,” Kryzak said in his deep voice. He nodded at the draykis and pointed at two soldiers on the floor.

  The draykis pulled their swords.

  “No blood on these floors,” Kryzak said, nodding at the terrace.

  The draykis picked the two men up by their arms and legs and dragged them to the terrace.

  “Mercy, High Priestess! Mercy!” the soldiers begged.

  She resumed her seat on the throne and watched them squirm in the clutches of the draykis. One by one, the draykis heaved each soldier’s body over the balcony. She could hear their screams until they hit the bottom.

  “That should motivate them,” she said to Kryzak. “I suggest you get moving. Another hour will be upon you by the time you reach the bottom.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” He pointed to two more.

  The draykis snatched them up, hauled them to the terrace, and heaved them over the balcony wall.

  Selene offered a faint smile.

  “I’m fond of people screaming. It soothes me on bright and sunny days.”

  Kryzak bowed and led the rest of the draykis and soldiers outside, leaving her alone in the grand chamber.

  “Something is amiss,” she said to herself. She made her way to the terrace and looked below. A crowd had gathered around the soldiers’ corpses. Her sharp eyes could see their faces, and her sharp ears could hear their cries. She shoved a planter off the railing and watched it crush someone. “That’s better.”

  She leaned back against the terrace rail and wondered. The man she had met could not have been Nath Dragon, or could he have been? Did Nath Dragon have powers she didn’t know about? Who should she ask? Gorn Grattack? Her dragon master might not like that, not that he liked anything, other than destruction.

  Who was he? Who was it?

  Not knowing felt like needles in her spine. She had her suspicions, and that’s why she had sent him to the Deep, but the creature had escaped. That was unforeseen. It rattled her. Control had slipped from her grasp.

  She made a high-pitched whistle with her lips and waited on the terrace, watching the dark clouds drift over the city and into the country. Her drulture flew over and landed on the rail. She gave it a command. It flew away and contacted the roosted dragons in the city. They’d help keep a lookout for anything that was not ordinary. She crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I’m not sure that will do.” She let out another whistle, different than the last, and made her way over to the map.