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

by Craig Halloran

  Gads!

  He wanted to scream. Even with all of his powers, he felt helpless. There was nothing to see. Nothing to fight. No one to talk to. Building by building, door by door, he searched one street at a time. Stopping. Looking. Listening. Sometimes he jogged. Sometimes he sprinted, dashing from one cover to another hidden from the eyes above. He didn’t sense that the dragons had any idea he was here, but he did feel something, an unsettling presence that tightened his shoulders.

  Someone has to be here doing something. Keep searching, Dragon. Keep searching. Hmmm. Maybe I need a better look at things.

  Earlier, he’d noticed bell towers that stood dozens of feet tall. Most cities had them in Nalzambor. They were a message system that could be heard from one side of the city to the other. The rhythmic ringing of the bells could bring cheer or spell doom. Nath headed for the nearest one he had seen, an enclosed stone tower about ten feet wide, with a single door that led inside. It was open.

  At least I won’t be running into any pigeon hawks in there.

  Inside he went and headed up the wooden steps that hugged the wall of the stone bell tower. Everything was pitch black above, but he could make out the outlines of the wall. The steps creaked a little under his weight. He stopped. Lifted his foot and tried another step. It was more solid. He continued his ascent, some steps groaning, others not.

  Just keep moving. The dragons shouldn’t be able to hear you over all these high winds. Or through these stone walls.

  Platform after platform, he headed toward the top. The only things he sensed were his wounded arm and the shard in his ribs.

  Truly a sad thing when only pain will keep your company.

  He made it to the top, where a trap door greeted him. He took a moment to listen, then pushed the door open. The whistling winds greeted him with a cold blast of air. Nath eased himself through the portal onto the tower top, where a great brass bell hung. An armored skeleton lay in pieces on one side of the wooden floor. The skeleton’s helmeted skull was on the other side, and the spine was still attached. Nath’s jaw dropped.

  Grizzly.

  Unlike the rest of the fallen, this soldier showed no other wounds. It seemed his head and spine had been torn up from his body.

  What would have done such a thing?

  Keeping his head low, he spied the towers above. Tall buildings surrounded him, but no dragons were in sight.

  Good.

  From his knees, he peeked over the wall into the streets below. All the main streets ran parallel to each other. The alleys crisscrossed between them. It was ordinary. The structures were well crafted, some magnificent, but he didn’t notice anything unique. And just like everywhere else in this floating city, nothing was moving but him and the wind.

  There has to be something. Guzan! Something.

  He wanted to hit something. Instead, something icy hit him. He jerked around, teeth chattering. The ghostly form of a soldier stood there with a dagger.

  Nath swung right through it.

  Its body parted and re-merged. Nath felt nothing but cold water in his veins. His movements became slow and sluggish.

  “What are you?” the ghost said. “How did I miss your presence?”

  “I think you were asleep at your post,” Nath said, grimacing. “You must be a lousy guard. That’s why you died the first time.”

  The ghost stood wavering in the wind. A black look was on its face.

  “I must tell the others,” it said, reaching for the rope that sounded the bell. “They need to be awakened.” It wrapped its ghostly fingers around the rope and started to pull.

  Nath ripped out Dragon Claw and slit its arm.

  “My metal bites.” Nath got closer. “Now tell me, what others? And how do you get to the jaxite mines?”

  This wasn’t the first time Nath had dealt with the undead. They could be hurt if you had the right weapon. They would talk, too, if you got them to listen.

  Its hollow eyes fell on the dagger’s glimmering blade. It eyed it and Nath Dragon.

  “I failed my post once. I’ll not fail it again.” It drifted like a cloud up to where the bell hung.

  Great, Nath thought, nothing like a ghost with a sense of duty. “Get down here and talk, apparition!”

  He could see the ghost sawing at something.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What I must.”

  Snap!

  The ropes that held the great brass bell gave. It plunged straight through the trap floor with a crash. The entire floor went with it. So did Nath Dragon.

  “No!”

  Nath clutched wildly in the air. Down he went, right after the bell and through the stairs. Wood shattered and crashed under his weight. He grabbed at everything he could to slow his fall. Darkness and splinters swallowed him whole.

  “Oof!”

  He hit hard, landing beside the bell. The stairs collapsed onto him. The skeleton landed right on top of him. Groaning and gasping for air, Nath shoved it aside. Sluggish, he pushed himself off the floor.

  I hate ghosts.

  DONG! DONG! DONG!

  He could hear other bells sounding in the city.

  I really hate ghosts.

  Dragon Claw still in hand, he staggered toward the door. His entire body ached, and it also felt like molasses. A sword-wielding skeleton with glowing green eyes met him in the doorway.

  “Sorry, we’re closed,” Nath murmured.

  It struck.

  CHAPTER 33

  Nath slung his body to the side. The skeleton’s rusted blade still hit home, skipping off his scales. He spun around and back-fisted it in the jaw, knocking its head from its shoulder. The skeleton sagged to the ground in a bony heap.

  Nath shook his head and lumbered through the doorway. The streets were alive now, with undead soldiers closing in.

  Nothing living moves, but at least something moves. He drew Fang, pulled his shoulders back, and started counting the undead. He reached a hundred and gave up.

  Bong! Bong! Bong!

  It seemed Otter Bone was right. There indeed was a great evil here. But someone or something had to be at the helm of it. Nath had to find it, and to do so, he’d have to wade through an undead army.

  Don’t get cornered.

  A skeleton carrying a spear closed in and lunged the tip at him. Nath batted the weapon away and drove Fang through its ribs. The glowing lights in its eyes went out, and it slumped lifeless to the ground.

  Three more were flanking him. Behind them, Nath could see more closing in from every street and alley. Spread out as they were, Nath had room to run past them. Find safety and cover. Skeletons moved as fast as men, but they didn’t run well. That gave him an advantage, aside from the frozen blood in his veins. He felt like he was moving in quicksand.

  A skeleton jabbed its sword at him. Another blade arced over his head.

  Nath swung Fang with all his might. The blade whistled through the air and struck two down in one blow. The third poked its sword at his chest, and it skipped off his scales. Nath jammed Dragon Claw into its skull. The bone exploded.

  Pow!

  Nath blanched. He said to the blade, “I didn’t know you had it in you, Claw.” His words came out slow and slurred, and his vision was a bit hazy.

  Five more skeletons closed in.

  Nath took off in a half run, half jog. Great Dragons!

  The ghost had done a number on him. Its touch would have killed most people or at least knocked them out. Ultimately, the undead, especially an army of them, were impossible to overcome. Their touches could kill or paralyze. A single nick could be fatal in some cases. It was no wonder none had ever fooled with the Floating City. It was well prepared for any trespassers.

  Rushing through the wide streets, Nath wove his way through the armies of the dead. A skeleton soldier erupted from an alley and barred his path.

  Fang arced up and hewed it down. Nath’s feet stomped its bones and jogged on.

  Something’s not right.
<
br />   Nath glanced up over his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of two dark-green dragons leering from the building above. Nath’s thoughts raced.

  Why aren’t they attacking? Whoever or whatever controls the skeletons probably doesn’t control the dragons. Barnabus might be behind some of it but not all of it. What is going on?

  Armed skeletons sealed off the street ahead. Nath turned down the next one. A rank of skeletons greeted him with rusty steel. They came at him with deliberation and force, bony arms flailing and chopping.

  Nath dodged. Swung. Sheared through arms and torsos. The bones clattered off the cobblestone road. He carved himself a path, only to see it filled with the undead again.

  Fang severed arms and legs. Shattered weapons and armor.

  Dragon Claw wrought havoc with every blow.

  Hemmed in, Nath fought with subdued fury. Frustration. His speed had been negated by the touch of the ghost. And overwhelming forces.

  A sword clipped his forehead. Sharp steel jabbed and poked all over him. Bony fingers clutched and pulled at his hair. Blood ran into his eyes.

  I’m getting sick of this!

  He swung harder and harder. His arms felt like lead, his legs like anvils.

  One skeleton fell after another. His mystic steel ripped through rotting armor, shattering hollowed bones.

  Unrelenting, the skeletons fought without fear of consequence. Silent. Cold. Determined. Their weapons didn’t cut through Nath’s scales, but they stung like mighty bees time and time again.

  Nath’s fury and aggravation continued to build. His dragon blood exploded through his veins, shattering the ice within. His limbs loosened. He felt imaginary shackles on his arms and legs breaking free.

  “Now you’re going to pay!”

  He hacked into the skeletons. Fang ripped through their legs. Dragon Claw popped holes in their skulls. The skeletons fell in heaps, but more kept closing in. A mob of metal and bones.

  “This is getting ridiculous!”

  Nath jammed Dragon Claw back into Fang’s hilt and wrapped both dragon hands around it.

  “I’ve had enough!”

  The great blade flared with blue and purple light. Nath swept it from side to side with fury. He mowed them down, two, three, four at a time. The lights went out inside their heads. Their bones snapped and cracked under his clawed feet. His anger flared. The street was filled with the skeleton horde. Dozens had him surrounded. Hundreds more were coming.

  I could take the high ground but then go where?

  He chopped. Ripped. Hacked and pummeled. Blood streamed down his face. He was being suffocated by the dead. Bony arms locked up his legs and wrapped around his waist. Skeletons climbed over each other to get at him.

  They jumped on his back and shoulders, driving him to the ground. He was trampled under a mass of decayed bodies. He held Fang tight but could swing no more.

  “Nooooo!”

  CHAPTER 34

  The skeletons clawed at his face. His eyes. The stench of their rotting bones and decayed skin was suffocating. Nath felt he was in a living prison of bones, and even with all his great strength, he could not get out.

  “Get off me!” he spit out.

  Their green eyes glimmered. Their jaws bit at his ears. Bony fingers pulled out his hair. Nath couldn’t imagine a worse way to die. Surrounded by a tomb of the undead. Their horrible faces reeked of death and evil. He struggled. Stretched. Strained. Rose to his knees only to topple over again.

  Skeletons were hard to stop. Not singly, but there were too many. He was trapped.

  I’ve got to be smarter than mindless skeletons.

  In his writhing fury, a puff of smoke billowed from his nose. His golden eyes widened.

  Stupid!

  He sucked in a great gulp of air.

  Burn, undead, Burn!

  Whoosh!

  A geyser of flames erupted from his mouth. Supernatural screams filled the streets. Skeletons burned and twitched. Body parts fell off. Tendons were incinerated. A burning skull’s jaw fell from its face.

  Nath shoved his way up, opened his arms wide, and took another deep breath.

  From all directions, the skeletons closed in.

  Whoosh!

  Flames blasted into them. Slowly, Nath spun in a circle with dragon fire blazing from his mouth. An inferno of burning skeletons surrounded him, screeching in bizarre misery. The fire spread from one skeleton to another. He kept blowing until everything burned and he could breathe no more fire for a while.

  Hundreds of skeletons fell in small pyres of fire, rattling once and rattling no more.

  It was a beautiful thing, watching evil burn. The stench was almost pleasing.

  Nath snorted, pulled his shoulders back, nodded, and waded through the flames down the street, brushing aside a burning skeleton that wandered into his path. His ears picked up the sound of rotting shoes and bony toes scraping over the cobbled streets. He picked up his pace and trotted toward the edge of the city.

  With the back of his arm, he wiped the blood from his eyes. His limbs were throbbing. Fighting endlessly was one thing, but exhausting your fire was another. It drained him. That’s why younger dragons were easier to capture. They didn’t have as much fire as the older ones, and Nath, for all accounts, was still a young dragon. And he’d overdone it.

  But I cooked them good.

  Ears peeled, he shuffled through the streets, avoiding any sounds of skeleton soldiers. He tilted his head upward, keeping in mind the ghosts in the towers that he assumed would be on the lookout for him.

  Still, it was odd. That ghost had seemed surprised it hadn’t noticed him earlier. He wondered why that was.

  Perhaps it’s because I’m a dragon. They wouldn’t be looking for dragons, but instead, people. Ignorant ghosts.

  He realigned his thoughts. In the thick of battle earlier, a thought had struck him. Perhaps the entrance to the mines didn’t lie on the surface of the city but below it. From ground level, by the river, he’d observed many stairs on the edge of the rock, similar to the one he had come up when he battled the spiny-backed crawler. It never occurred to him that one might mine something from below rather than from above, but this city was different, to say the least.

  Why not? Nothing else makes any sense.

  Finding the edge, he jogged over the rocky terrain. Unlike the rest of the city, which was well laid out, the edge was the beginning of a cliff. Here, it was clear that this enormous rock had been ripped up out of the ground. As far as he understood it, the Floating City moved, but a bit slowly. It stayed its course along the wind currents of the river. There was a crater where the city had originally lain in the earth. He hadn’t seen it, but he’d heard about it.

  With whipping winds in his face, he pushed forward along the edge, scanning for any signs of a stairway. He’d walked hundreds of yards through the rubble, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He halted. He could feel eyes on his back. Everywhere. Above, he noticed dragons on the roofs of buildings, glaring down at him like hungry vultures.

  “Come on,” Nath said, wagging Fang’s steel at them, “get a closer look.”

  These dragons weren’t big. Some were bigger than him, others smaller, but he counted almost a dozen of them, watching his every move. Their long, serpentine necks stooped down, and their faces wore hawkish looks. Their dark wings and tails told him they’d been turned by Barnabus.

  Waving his sword once more, Nath turned his back to them and continued.

  I wish we could have one final fight right here, right now. I’m sick of these monsters.

  He came across another stone-cut staircase leading down the side of the Floating City’s cliffs. The staircase was wide enough for three men, and the slope was easy, curving along the cliffs. Gradually, it narrowed, and the stairs became steeper. Nath could see the river again, a blue-green line between the trees. The wind tore at his hair and slammed into him. He dug his claws into the cliff to steady himself.

  “This almost makes me
miss those skeletons.”

  He felt small again. An ant on a hillside trying to save the world from destruction. He eased his way down to the last step, which ended at the edge of the rock. The next step was the river.

  Why would they even have steps here? They have to lead somewhere.

  He started back up the stairs. The scraping of bone on stone caught his ear. He dashed up and peered around the bend. Skeletons advanced, filling the stairs as far as he could see.

  Great!

  Down the steps he went. A stair of rocks floated nearby, similar to the one that had gotten him here to begin with. The first step floated no more than twenty feet away and several feet downward. It wasn’t very big, though. Not quite as wide as the span of his arms.

  I can make it.

  The first skeleton appeared. Its body rattled with every step on shaky legs. Its eyes were bright-green fire.

  I have to make it!

  Winds whistling through his ears and battering his clothes, he squatted into position, eyeing the distance. If he missed the mark, he’d start all over again.

  This might be my worst idea ever.

  The skeletons closed in, crowding one another. The gusty wind ripped two off their feet, hurling them over the edge of the cliff.

  Good. Two down, one thousand to go.

  Steps away, the first skeleton was almost there.

  He jumped. Having accounted for the wind this time, he sailed and landed right on target. He hugged the stone.

  “Yes!”

  He sat on the stone, a big dragon man on a tiny island.

  The first skeleton took the leap. It sailed several feet and plummeted downward. One right after the other, they plunged to their second deaths into the depths of the river.

  Nath laughed. It’s true what the old dwarves say. “Every glum day has a cheery outline.”

  He’d watched more than a dozen go when the madness stopped. The skeletons, one and all, stopped moving. The nearest few began to commune with one another. Seconds later, they set their weapons aside. Some actually sheathed them in their scabbards. They locked hands and arms, forming a chain, and started lowering themselves over the edge. Seconds later, they were swinging like a rope. Coming his way.