Kathir's Redemption (Book 6)

by Kristian Alva

  “Her dragon is huge—Atejul is the largest emerald dragon that I’ve ever seen. He’s almost as large as Nydeired.”

  “Atejul flies very fast,” Duskeye blurted out proudly. “Just look at that wingspan of his!” Dragons didn’t usually discuss their offspring, but it was clear that Duskeye was proud of having fathered such a large and powerful son.

  “I wonder why they don’t just fly on ahead,” Mugla said. “With Duskeye carrying both of us, their dragons could outdistance us easily.”

  “I was wondering that myself. We’ve nearly reached Parthos,” Tallin said.

  The desert city sparkled like a bright green jewel on the horizon. Its hanging gardens were an engineering marvel, maintained by underground wells. The city supported a population that was much larger than one might expect given its location in the desert. “The elves will probably stop in Parthos before they return to Brighthollow.”

  Through their telepathic connection, Tallin could sense that Duskeye was eager to see his current mate, Shesha, and her clutch of eggs.

  “Shesha is waiting for us,” Duskeye added. “I told her to seek refuge in Parthos so that her eggs would be safe. She resisted the idea at first but eventually agreed. I gave her my saddlebags to carry the eggs.”

  When they originally left for Balbor, the wild dragon Shesha had been guarding her eggs in the forest. The whole reason for their trip to Balbor had been to protect her eggs from the High Priest, who desired to steal them. Now that the Balborite threat was gone, Shesha’s eggs were safe. When these eggs finally hatched, the dragon race could begin its recovery.

  The city of Parthos grew larger as they approached. Finally, the four dragons crossed into the city perimeter and flew down to land on the castle ramparts. They were greeted with cheers by the Parthinian guards. Tallin slid down from Duskeye’s back and then helped Mugla climb from the saddle.

  Xiiltharra, Fëanor, and Amandila also dismounted.

  The teenage twins, Galti and Holf Thallan, ran up to greet them. Galti and Holf were the youngest of the dragon riders, and they had almost completed their mageborn training. They usually stayed behind to help guard the city when the other dragon riders were away.

  Shesha, who before hated cities and feared humans, was lying calmly near Orshek and Karela, the two black dragons that were joined to Galti and Holf.

  Shesha’s tail was curled protectively around her eggs. Duskeye crawled over to Shesha, purring softly. He moved slowly despite the fact that Shesha was his mate, since nesting females were often unpredictable. Duskeye touched his snout against hers, and she snapped at him playfully. Duskeye hopped back, but he was smiling.

  Galti and Holf greeted Tallin with a warm handshake.

  “How were things while we were away?” asked Tallin.

  “Exciting!” Galti said. “We caught a Balborite assassin in the desert a few weeks ago. I spotted him when we were on patrol. We alerted the guards and sealed all the city entrances. We waited a few days and then decided to go out and find him ourselves. Shesha came along too—she’s the one that found him the second time.”

  Tallin’s eyebrows shot up. “That was a very risky thing to do.”

  “The painted human was coming here to steal my eggs!” Shesha said in the dragon tongue. “I knew it was true, so I offered to help. We caught him in the canyon nearby. The young fleshlings fought the painted human and killed him.”

  Tallin looked at Galti and Holf with stunned approval. “You managed to kill a Balborite assassin by yourselves? I’m impressed.”

  “Orshek and Karela did most of the work,” Galti said. “They trapped him in a fire circle.” The two black dragons raised their heads and chuckled.

  “We persuaded Shesha that the palace rooftop was the best place for her and her eggs,” Holf added. “It’s so warm up here—look how happy she is!”

  Shesha sent a small flame bursting from her nose. “Humph! I was not persuaded by the fleshlings. I made the decision myself to stay up here, because it’s nice and hot on the roof…plus there are always chickens to eat.” She jerked her chin toward the palace chickens pecking away at their feed nearby.

  Fëanor edged toward Shesha to catch a quick glimpse at her eggs, but Shesha snapped at him. “Get back, elf! I don’t trust your kind.”

  Fëanor looked at his queen, who shook her head slightly.

  Tallin’s eyes narrowed. It was an odd exchange. After everything that had happened, maybe the elves were still hoping they could take some of the eggs back to Brighthollow.

  Xiiltharra seemed to know what he was thinking, because she said, “There’s no need to worry about the eggs now. The Balborites have been dealt with, so there’s no danger to the nest.”

  “So you’re going to allow Shesha to keep her eggs?” Tallin asked. “How thoughtful of you.”

  If Xiiltharra heard sarcasm in his voice, she decided to ignore it. “Yes, of course. I’m pleased that we were able to work together to protect this nest.”

  Galti decided that it was time to interrupt so that he could play host. “Is everyone ready to eat? We sent a message to the kitchens for food when we saw you coming. They’ve set up a buffet downstairs.”

  “Great!” said Mugla. “I’m starvin’!”

  After such a long journey, they were all famished and exhausted. “Do you have meat for our dragons?” asked Fëanor.

  “The cook slaughtered a camel for them,” said Holf. “They’re dressing it now. I’ll have the meat brought up.”

  Tallin looked at the elves. “You are all welcome to dine with us of course.” He tried to be friendly, but he couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice.

  “Thank you, halfling,” Xiiltharra said with a sharp smile. “We accept.”

  The elves seemed happy enough to follow them into the dining hall. Galti and Holf excused themselves and notified the kitchens that their guests were ready to eat.

  As they walked through the palace, the servants greeted Tallin, but gasped in surprise when they saw the elves walking behind him.

  When they reached the hall, Xiiltharra headed to the front and took the seat at the head of the table. The elves sat next to their queen, talking in low voices. Tallin and Mugla sat several seats down from them. Servants brought the food out in two or three courses, and each course included several dishes.

  Mugla reached out and grabbed a chicken leg and began to eat it with relish. “The elves are so aloof, even after everythin’ that’s happened,” she whispered between bites.

  “It’s not surprising to me,” replied Tallin quietly. “I wonder how they really view us. Long after we’re gone, they’ll still be alive. You heard Xiiltharra on the island—a thousand years is nothing to her. I can’t imagine what life is like from their perspective.”

  The elves ate well, whispering to each other between bites. Galti and Holf came back a while later to see if they needed anything else. Their entrance into the room broke the tension, and Tallin spoke.

  “Do you have news from Sela? I was tempted to contact her myself, but I wanted to save my strength,” said Tallin.

  Galti nodded. “Sela’s been contacting me every few days.” Despite his young age, he was a powerful telepath. “Once Mount Velik fell, she and Elias travelled to Highport with the survivors. Both of them are there now. They’re trying to negotiate a treaty between the clans.”

  “Mount Velik has fallen to the orcs?” Mugla gasped. “I can’t believe it!”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it sooner—I thought you knew,” Galti said. “Most of the women and children escaped, but the dwarf army was destroyed. The refugees travelled to Highport to request sanctuary, but the Vardmiters won’t let them inside their mountain.”

  Mugla sighed. “What a disaster. This new is very sad. All the clans are still bloodkin. They should try to cooperate with one another.”

  For a
moment, Tallin did nothing but try to absorb the shocking news. Mount Velik had fallen? All the clans were in Highport? So many things had happened while they were stuck on Balbor. The elves seemed unsurprised by the news.

  Tallin turned on Xiiltharra. “This is important news. Did you know about this?”

  “Careful, halfling,” Fëanor said, his voice low. “This is our queen. Show some respect.”

  Xiiltharra stretched in her chair like a cat. Then she smiled and held up one perfectly shaped hand. “I can speak for myself, Fëanor. The halfling’s gruff manner does not bother me; I find it rather…amusing.” Xiiltharra paused to pluck a grape from a plate of fruit in front of her. “Although the animosity between the dwarf clans does not interest me, it does worry me that the orcs have conquered their stronghold. So I am somewhat concerned about the situation at Mount Velik. The orcs are a plague, even to us, and my people do not wish to see the greenskins spread their vileness any further. I originally believed that the dwarves had the situation under control. The dwarves haven’t fallen to the orcs in untold millennia, so we did not believe they would lose. By the time I learned of the clans’ defeat, I was already on my way to Balbor. There was nothing we could do to help them at that point. The elves can’t be everywhere at once, you know.”

  Tallin sighed. “I’ve only just arrived, but now I have to go to Highport. I have to help my people.”

  “I’m comin’ with ye,” said Mugla.

  Tallin didn’t try to argue with his aunt this time. He turned his attention back to the elves. “Will you all be leaving now?”

  “Why the sudden hurry to push us out of your city, halfling?” snorted Fëanor. “Are you afraid that we might try to pinch your precious dragon’s eggs after all?”

  Tallin didn’t respond, but his face must have betrayed his emotions, because Xiiltharra chuckled.

  “Don’t worry, halfling. My people only wanted to safeguard the eggs from the Balborites. Now that the threat has been removed, it is in our best interest for Shesha’s brood to grow up strong and healthy in the desert. This is their natural habitat, after all. So, I’ll give you my vow—we won’t attempt to take any of Shesha’s eggs. However, if any of her offspring should happen to make their way to Brighthollow once they’ve hatched, then we will accept them into the land of faerie with open arms.”

  Tallin nodded. He felt better. “So tell me, how did Atejul manage to hatch in faerie? Is all the talk of Brighthollow being dangerous for hatchlings just a myth?”

  The queen pursed her lips, as if considering whether or not to answer him. Then she shrugged. “No, it’s not a myth. Dragons are creatures of the desert. They breed best in this climate, so this is also the best place for them to nest. The magic of Brighthollow seems to affect dragons. Female dragons refuse to nest in faerie, and they will not accept a mate there either. We don’t know why.”

  “Then how did you get Atejul to hatch? Did you use magic?”

  “No, that would be impossible. Dragon’s eggs are impervious to magic—even ours. When Nagendra fled the desert years ago, she came to us. Physically, she was in a terrible state, but she had already mated with Duskeye. She carried her eggs in her belly across the ocean mists into our hidden land. When she arrived, she was exhausted by and badly injured. We nursed her back to health over several months. At the end of her recovery, she laid seven eggs. Although it is rare for dragon’s eggs to hatch in Brighthollow, it is not impossible. So we kept the eggs safe and waited for them to hatch, but they did not. Elves offered to carry the eggs back to the desert for a few months to see if the heat would encourage the eggs to hatch, but Nagendra was too afraid. Nagendra was terrified of leaving Brighthollow—her family had been slaughtered by dragon hunters. And who could blame her, after everything she had suffered? In the end, only one hatchling emerged from his shell, and that was Atejul. The other eggs went sterile and died. Atejul was weak at first, but we fostered him to health. He eventually grew into the beautiful creature that he is today. We were joined as rider and dragon a while ago, and I must say, it’s been a wonderful experience. I have a new perspective now. I want to see the dragons recover and flourish. Are you satisfied now, dwarf?” She flashed a dazzling smile.

  Tallin smiled with what he hoped looked like genuine gratitude. “Yes, that’s comforting news. And congratulations on your joining.”

  “Thank you. Now that we’ve settled this little problem, Atejul and I will return to Brighthollow. However, Amandila and Fëanor shall be travelling to Highport to assist you.”

  “W-what?” sputtered Amandila. “But…my queen; I was looking forward to going home. Why must we accompany these dwarves? What are they to us?”

  The Queen looked at her with a hint of a smile. “I understand your concerns, my dear, but circumstances have changed. We cannot let the greenskins spread; if we do nothing, then they shall eventually become a nuisance, even for us. I want you both to help the dwarves.”

  “But my queen—” Amandila tried again, but Xiiltharra cut her off.

  The Queen’s smile turned frosty. “Are you questioning my orders?”

  Amandila bowed her head. “No, your majesty. I apologize.”

  “Very good. You and Fëanor should make your preparations right away. It’s a long journey to Highport.” The queen looked at Tallin. “Will you allow us to stock provisions for the trip?”

  “Yes,” said Tallin, nodding. “I’ll notify the stable hands. They’ll restock your saddlebags.”

  They all rose up to prepare. Tallin hadn’t expected to be undertaking such a long journey so soon after his last. He’d been hoping to spend some time relaxing, but he couldn’t. There was another threat to be taken care of, another battle to fight. In that moment, Tallin felt very tired.

  He trudged up to the ramparts with the intention of getting Duskeye ready to leave. Shesha was there with him.

  “Where are you going now?” she asked. “You’ve only just arrived.”

  Tallin explained the situation at Highport and watched as Shesha grew agitated by the news. Duskeye didn’t seem happy either.

  “You’re leaving so soon?” Shesha asked.

  “We have to,” Duskeye said. “It will be a long journey, and I have to carry Tallin’s aunt, too. It’s tiring for me to carry extra passengers. I’m not as young as I once was.”

  “I’m sorry, old friend,” Tallin said with a sympathetic smile.

  Shesha raised her head. “I’ll come with you, then. I can carry this…aunt.”

  “You?” Tallin looked at her in shock. “But what about your eggs?”

  “My eggs are safe in Parthos,” Shesha said. “Orshek and Karela have shown me that they can keep my eggs safe—they are my cousins and my kin. Besides, it will be a while yet before they hatch. So I won’t let Duskeye go into this battle alone.”

  Tallin could hear the strength of her determination. Galti and Holf were too young to fight, so they were staying behind in the city, so her argument made sense. “Thank you. It would be helpful to have the assistance of another dragon. All right, we’ll be leaving at dawn. You’ll need to be ready by then.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  It seemed that the elves were ready as well. As soon as Shesha finished speaking, they all appeared on the ramparts together. Amandila and Fëanor began to ready their dragons for the long journey by removing their saddles and greasing their backs with oil to reduce friction. Nagendra didn’t seem any happier about going to Highport than her rider. As usual, Blacktooth and Fëanor remained silent, and basically kept to themselves.

  Xiiltharra hopped onto Atejul’s back. “It’s time for me to bid you all farewell. Hopefully I won’t have to leave Brighthollow again for a long time. I would prefer to keep my visits to the mortal lands to a minimum. Away, Atejul!”

  The magnificent emerald dragon took to the air and flew north.

  “We’re stuc
k with two elves again, it seems,” said Tallin.

  “We could use their help,” said Duskeye, “There’s not much sense arguing about it.”

  Tallin knew that Duskeye was right. He just hoped that they would be able to get to Highport in time—before it was too late.

  10. An Ambush

  Back at the Highport Mountains, the situation between the clans was getting worse by the day. Snow had started falling incessantly, blanketing the mountainside with freezing white powder. For the dwarves stuck outside, their living conditions became unbearable. The political stalemate continued, with neither side willing to compromise.

  Skemtun tried to get things moving by sending Kathir to speak to Utan in secret. Kathir tried to catch Utan on several occasions, but he didn’t dare approach the gate when there was no way to be sure which of the guards Bolrakei had bribed.

  The only time Kathir actually found Utan outside, Druknor prevented him from talking to him. Druknor wagged a finger at Kathir as if he were chastising a naughty child. “Are you sneaking over there to speak to Utan?”

  “No…” Kathir lied.

  “Good, I’m glad. We don’t want you to interfere in this little political situation, Kathir. That’s not what Miklagard needs from you, is it? The High Council hired you for a very specific need.”

  “I know, I know. I’m just a bodyguard,” Kathir finished for him.

  “Exactly. I’m glad we understand each other.” There was nothing friendly about Druknor’s smile. “Now, don’t interfere. Remember who’s paying you. Remember why you’re here.”

  “The High Council pays me, not you. I know you’re chummy with Delthen and the council, but you don’t have the right to give me orders. So tell me…why are you here?” Kathir itched to reach for his sword, but that would mean a public fight with Druknor, who was a very powerful man. No matter how badly he wanted to, Kathir couldn’t risk trying anything now. “Don’t tell me that you’re simply here as Delthen’s friend. What does a slaver care about what’s happening with the dwarf clans?”