The Dragon Sands Box Set: Books 1 - 3

by C. K. Rieke

  Holding the light of the stick out, she tried to look further down the tunnel, yet it appeared to turn down to the left, and her feet began to creep further down it, the flames of the stick flickering as she did so. Her fingers caressed the bumpy rock as dirt fell to the floor as she glided past, further down the corridor, the stick’s light faint in the darkness.

  Her fingertips glided along the sandy walls, and suddenly stopped as they found what appeared to be an indent in the wall. Kera stopped her descent into the corridor and turned the stick’s light to the crease her fingers had found. She held the firelight close and leaned in towards where her fingers were. Up close to the rock, she saw a long-carved line stretch out in three directions, out of the light of the fire, and she saw what appeared to be a black color pressed into the crevasse. She dipped her finger into the thin crevasse and pulled it out to examine her fingertip, she smudged the black residue between her fingers.

  “Ash?” she whispered to herself.

  Standing back slightly, she inverted the stick to let the flames creep back up it, creating more fire. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and with the growing firelight, her jaw relaxed and fell open. The crevasse she’d found was only one of many, and they curved around the wall in a pattern, no— a carving. Before her was a beautifully carved body of a dragon along the entire stretch of wall. With the ash-laden lines dancing around the wall, she saw its mighty wings, outstretched and powerful. She saw every scale lining its body like the strongest armor imaginable, and its tail flowed down deeper into the darkness down the corridor. Then she brought the firelight up the dragon’s neck, where its head was.

  The carving was of the side of the dragon’s face, its hollow eyes looking upwards, as if in flight up to the heavens. Long, curling horns ran at the back of its skull, and a strong jaw and wide nostrils framed its face. She’d never seen anything like it. Even just the carving on the wall of it was ten times her size, running down the stretch of corridor. Then she felt a strange sensation— what had been a feeling of awe, turned to a sharp feeling of dread— like a cold wind blowing on her ankles. She turned slowly behind her, letting the light of the fire turn from the wall before her, to the wall behind. More carved lines formed before her in the wall opposite the dragon. On the wall was not one figure, but many, and not a dragon, but the forms of man. Six men and women.

  In the carved mural, the six figures were portrayed in a frantic scene of chaos. This mural was not meant to portray the gods in the warm light they enjoyed being in. No, this was a murderous, vicious battle. The six gods held weapons out wide, cutting and slashing. They weren’t killing other men though, they were dragons, but not like the dragon flying high on the other wall. No— these were baby dragons. On one side, Eyr held a decapitated dragon’s head in her hand, while holding a sword in its heart with her other hand. The dragon was little bigger than a large dog.

  And Dânoz stood at the center, stoic and strong. At his feet were the shattered eggs of a dragon’s offspring. Vigolos had his battleax drawn behind him, with an innocent dragon at his feet, and at his mercy. Kera felt a lump form in her throat, and she felt the terror the young dragons must have felt in that moment— helpless and afraid. Then, holding the firelight further down the corridor she saw what must have been Gorlen, the Witch Queen. She’d killed many dragons at her feet, but most disturbing of all, and what made Kera fall to her knees, was Gorlen appeared to be eating the heart of one of the dragons. It was half in her mouth as she bit down onto it. A red hue was painted on her face, blood dripping down her chin onto her chest. Kera felt nauseous, and a cold sweat formed on her brow.

  “What happened to them? What monsters. Killing babies? What kind of evil could do such a thing? They were only younglings.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Is that what you did? Is this how you started the war? Or how you ended it? How is it I’ve never heard this story? Did you hide the truth all these years? If the dragons had killed your young, the whole of the Arr would know that tale. You monsters.”

  Kera felt something eerie then, as if she was being watched. She peered up slowly back to the carving of Gorlen on the wall, and at two eyes that now seemed to be staring at her. Kera rose to her feet cautiously, and the eyes of the Witch Queen seemed to follow.

  “What?” Kera said in surprise. “What is this?”

  Kera watched as the lines in the sand wall began to move, like a crawl. A toe began to separate itself from the wall, then an ankle. Kera stepped back, but as the figure of Gorlen moved and began to emerge from the wall with a grim face, blood still dripping from it, Kera stumbled back to the ground, falling on her back. She watched in terror as Gorlen had fully removed herself from the wall, and a rock grew in Kera’s stomach as the Witch Queen took another bite from the still-beating heart of the baby dragon. As she chewed it, blood pumped down her face and chest, and she dropped the remaining heart to the sand, beating several more times until it stopped.

  The world around her had grown dark, and all Kera saw then was the Witch Queen, covered in blood creeping toward her, with a hateful gaze— a murderous gaze.

  “You’re not real. You’re not real, you’re just in my head,” Kera said, her words soft with fear.

  “You’re not real . . .” Gorlen repeated. “You’re not real . . .” She inched her way towards Kera, her long fingernails extended. “You’re just in my head . . .”

  “You can’t be here,” Kera said. “Lilaci wouldn’t let you hurt me.”

  “Lilaci’s not here,” Gorlen said in a raspy voice. “No one can save you from me. I’m going to cut you, I’m going to watch you bleed, and then I’m going taste you. I’m going to taste your heart while it still beats.”

  “This isn’t real, this isn’t happening. It’s all in my head. Make it stop, make it stop,” Kera said.

  “You’re going to die. Lilaci is going to die. Fewn too. Everyone that has ever helped you is a bounty for me. You’ll taste torments you could never imagine,” Gorlen said as she crept forward. She was looming over Kera then, her face inches away from Kera’s. The Witch Queen’s eyes glowed with the light of rage, and glee. Kera feared she was going to die then, not only from the Witch Queen, but the fear in her chest. She’d never been so afraid in her life.

  “Lilaci,” she whispered. “Help me.”

  Then she felt the cold fingers of the Witch Queen grip around her neck, and she began to squeeze. “You’re mine, Dragon’s Breath.” Kera began to breathe quickly, and panic fell over her.

  “Death is coming for you girl. There will be no more Order of Drakon after you are gone. There will be none who remember you, none who mourn for you.” Kera felt the fingers gripping her neck tighter, and she struggled to breathe. “Once you are gone, these lands will be mine forever. No dragons, no infidels. There will be only us, only me. And I can wreak whatever I wish upon these lands. I will rule forever, I will be eternal. And you my pretty little girl . . . Are going to die.”

  Kera felt the life fading from her, as the Witch Queen’s face began to dim into darkness before her. Yet, just then, just before everything turned to darkness, Kera felt a light inside of her. A fire that felt like a faint flicker quickly erupted into a bright, hot inferno. She opened her eyes wide to see the Witch Queen’s face illuminated in white light, and she shot her eyes closed from the blinding light.

  “No,” Kera said, getting her feet under her as the Witch Queen shot back. “I’ll not let you harm me, or my friends anymore.”

  “What— What is this?” The Witch Queen hissed, backing away from the bright light.

  “You have no power over me,” Kera said, standing back up, her shoulders back. “That’s your weakness, and my strength. You have nothing to hurt me with. That’s why you’re afraid of me. That’s why you’ve sent your soldiers after me my entire life, instead of coming yourself. Because you’re scared. You’re scared I can hurt you.” She watched as the Witch Queen took a step back into the wall with one foot, and then began moving her body back in.
“You may have killed the dragons, by murdering their young while they were away, but know that I’m going to bring them back, and then you can watch as they devour you and your young.”

  “No,” Gorlen hissed. “That will never happen. They are dead. They’re all dead.”

  “You’re wrong, I’m going to find a way. You and your kind are finished. It’s your turn to be afraid!” And with that, Kera let out a burst of light that lit the entire corridor in bright white. The explosion of light grew until that was all there was. And as the light slowly faded, Kera saw the mural before her was as it was, all six gods in their original poses. She breathed a sigh of relief and regathered her breathing.

  The stick in her hand was still lit and she turned back around to see the mural of the dragon, but as she did she jumped back in surprise. She was looking straight into two dragon eyes, staring straight back into hers. The eyes were piercing, two golden orbs with dashes of color like fire in them. Reds, oranges and a deep black at their centers. The mural had moved, and now a full dragon’s head was in front of her. It had removed itself from the wall and it hovered in the air only inches away. She saw its rough green scales, she smelt its ashen breath, she saw its long yellowish teeth cracked and brittle. The dragon’s head inched toward her, its long, thick neck protruding from the wall. It let out low, bellowing growl— as it sneered at her with its sharp teeth showing.

  “Shhh . . .” she said softly to the dragon. “It’s alright. I’m here to help you.”

  Kera reached a hand up, extending it out to it slowly. The dragon watched her hand, but didn’t pull back, so she let her hand fall onto the side of its mouth. The moment she touched it, she felt a pain in her neck. She reached back and gently touched it, still sore, as if real hands had gripped her throat only moments ago. The two dragon’s eyes burned into her deeper.

  “I’m sorry for what they did to you, and for your kin,” Kera said to the dragon. “We will avenge them. We will bring retribution for your fallen. I’m going to bring your once-great might back to the skies. And together, we are going to kill the gods, once and for all.”

  She watched as the dragon’s eyes glowed in a brilliant golden light at that, and then the green dragon’s head dipped to her, almost like a bow. Then the head slowly fell back to its rightful place in the mural. Kera went up and touched the mural once more, letting her hand caress the stone wall, her fingers flowing down from its head to its neck.

  “Magnificent . . .” she said to herself.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following morning, the two awoke to an unusually warm morning for that time of year. The shadows of the cave offered little reprieve to the thick, humid air. Kera had only gotten a rough few hours of sleep after her time in the crevasse of the cave. Her dreams were wrought with tormenting reminders and visions of the Witch Queen. She couldn’t help but shake away the images of her and the dragon from her mind. As much as Gorlen remained a frightening image to her, the sight of the dragon’s head as it appeared before her still held a feeling of strength inside her. After all— her entire life— she’d been surrounded by the whispers of dragons. It was her destiny, her responsibility to return what once soared the skies back to the far-reaching deserts of the Arr. And hours ago, she was face to face, for the first time in her life, with what seemed to be real. That was the first time in her young life she’d looked into the eyes of a dragon, whether it was real or not.

  She lay there facing the top part of the cave, her eyes open but not staring at anything in particular. The burning golden eyes of the dragon consumed her. She knew she would never forget them, they’d always be a part of her.

  “Feel free to help,” Fewn said as she rummaged through her pack haphazardly.

  Kera continued looking up at the top of the cave, and she fell into a daze watching the streaks of light pass over her as they danced in the dust and thick air.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll just get everything ready for you, your highness,” Fewn said, playfully yet sarcastically. “Would you like some fresh milk? Figs? How about a juicy grilled cut of dark meat?”

  Kera let her head fall to the side facing Fewn, who gave her a pressing look as she folded up a light shirt and pushed it into her bag. “You shouldn’t talk about such things, it makes my stomach hurt.”

  “I was only kidding.”

  “I’m hungry,” Kera said.

  “I know, me too. But look what I’ve got . . .” Fewn reached into her bag and brought out a piece of withered cactus, and handed it to Kera, who reluctantly took it and began to chew it on the side of her mouth. It was tough and bitter.

  An hour later they were back upon the sands, and the thick humidity had passed, or been left behind them. There was just a gentle breeze, and an eerie calm as they approached it. The Dune of the Last Dragon grew taller with every single step they took. Kera looked up at it, every scale and claw of the engraved dragon’s body grew more vivid with fine detail as they drew closer. It was still a few miles off, and as Kera looked up at the headless neck at the top of the mountain, she half-expected to see the head upon the sands at its base, which she didn’t see. The head must have fallen off so long ago that it succumbed to the harsh-blowing sands and faded away back into the dunes, or it had moved from where it had fallen.

  On the other side of the mountain, although faint, she saw the thin strip of blue, a dark blue. “Is that it? Off in the distance? Is that the sea?”

  “That’s it.”

  “I was always warned to stay away from here,” Kera said in a soft voice. “They’re out there. They’re in their palace out in that sea.”

  “Yes, they are. The island of Arralyn is out there, and at its center is Firen-ar Castle, the palace of the gods. That’s where they live, that’s where your enemy dwells.”

  “I hope to never see that place.”

  Fewn let out a subtle groan. “That’s never going to be a part of the plan. Hopefully we find the white box and get on to next stage in your journey, and away from here.”

  Kera stood there staring at the great mountain before them, with its dragon’s neck reaching up towards the heavens, strong muscles gleaming in the sunlight, with tiny reflections flickering off its countless scales. It reminded her of the dragon’s head she saw the night before. It reminded her of her destiny. Without saying a word, she started off towards the mountain, with good speed. Fewn quickly started after her. “Fewn—”

  “Yes, Kera?”

  “Thank you for being with me. As much as I’m excited for what the mountain holds, I can’t but help be a little worried.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

  “I know you will, and I’m grateful you’ve changed your mind about helping me. I couldn’t do this alone.”

  “Yes, well, I only hope Lilaci will be as understanding if you’re right about her being alive. I don’t expect she’d be.”

  “You underestimate her,” Kera said. “She would forgive . . . With time.”

  “All due respect, Kera— I’ve known Lilaci a lot longer than you. She holds a grudge better than almost anyone I’ve met. She’s skilled, strong, and smart. There wasn’t a person in training who could best her. I expect her to be fully ready to get into a fight to the death when she sees me.”

  “I’m not going to let that happen,” Kera said. “I told you, we’re family. And family always deserves a second chance.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sun hung high and bright in the afternoon sky, and the long dunes wound up and down like an endless sea. The winds moved them, ever-so-slowly over time, like an ancient ocean of tiny grains of sand, formed by the everlasting winds. Upon the top of the tallest dune in the region of Gorx stood three travelers— three wanderers.

  They’d been traveling together for just over an hour since the storm had blown in and separated them from their pursuers, a pack of Scaethers on their trail. The three of them had moved on out of the storm, and once they’d broken free from the biting maelstrom of win
d and sand, they looked back to find no Scaethers following them. They either remained in the storm, waiting out its ferocious power with their deceased, or they may have fallen back to the other side of the storm. Lilaci knew the Scaethers were not one to retreat, but they were also not known to lose ever, and with the entrance of Demetrius Burr, they may have decided to rethink their strategy. She knew that was not the last she’d see of her once-comrade Garenond.

  The man calling himself one of the last Knights of the Whiteblade walked next to them with long, strong strides up and over the high dune. Lilaci could tell Roren walked suspiciously next to him. They were both silent as they walked, they all assumed they’d just continue on their path towards where they thought Kera was— towards the Duen Utülm Drakon. As they walked down the backside of the long dune, sand cascaded down it from their footsteps as their feet sunk into its soft body, and they headed back down to the rocky region ahead of them. A sandsnake slithered down next to them, its body winding and flowing down as it hovered over the hot sand.

  “Thank you for your help back there,” Lilaci said. Demetrius Burr looked over and nodded at her from under his hood. “Why didn’t you reveal yourself sooner? You were following us— correct?”

  “Yes, that is correct. And Burr, just call me Burr.”

  “Okay Burr, why were you following us?” Lilaci asked.

  “I’m out on the sands for the same reason as you— I’m looking for the girl. Wanted to make sure I knew which side you’re on first.”

  “Which side are you on?” Roren asked suspiciously.

  “Not on their side,” Burr said, motioning back to the storm and the Scaethers left back behind them.