The Dragon Sands Box Set: Books 1 - 3

by C. K. Rieke

  “I bet you look like her; when you’re all grown up, I bet you’ll look just like her. I wager anything she was a beautiful woman. The most beautiful in all the Arr. I’d stake my life on it.”

  Kera looked up at her with a wide smile, and loving eyes after she said that. “I think you’re right. I wonder if she’s still alive, I wonder if I’ll ever get to see her, even if I don’t know it’s her.”

  “If you’re lucky enough to ever see her, I would like to think part of you would recognize her, and her you.”

  “There’s not enough luck on the sands for things like that to happen,” Kera said with a sigh.

  “Hey.” Lilaci nudged her on the shoulder. “I found you, that was some nice luck there.”

  “You were sent to take me away.”

  “And that I did,” Lilaci responded quickly.

  “Yeah . . .” Kera trailed off.

  “Hey,” Lilaci nudged her on the shoulder again. “I got you something.” Kera looked up at her again with curious eyes. “It’s pretty special too. Hold out your hand.” Kera held let go of Lilaci’s hand and held it out with an open palm. “Close your eyes.”

  “But I won’t be able to see where I’m stepping,” Kera said.

  “You’ve got an open desert in front of you,” Lilaci laughed, “I think you’ll manage.”

  Kera closed her eyes, and as Lilaci’s reached under her tan-linen cloak to the small of her back, she untied the second dagger she’d found in the dragon’s treasure horde, and gently placed the hilt of it into Kera’s hand. She watched as Kera’s small fingers wrapped themselves around the black metal handle with the small white stones inlaid down it.

  “Okay, open ‘em.”

  Kera opened her eyes to look down at the dagger, and its silver, sharp blade glowing brightly in the reflection of the sunlight. She seemed not to know what to think of her new gift.

  “It’s from high up in the cave, I grabbed it for you before we gathered the stones.”

  “I’ve never owned a blade before.”

  “This is a good one to start with,” Lilaci said. “Look how the way the blade carves down into the hilt, look how the curve of the blade forms up to its tip, see how they designed the handle to mold to slender fingers like yours? It was expertly made from metals I don’t even know. It may prove to be useful.”

  “It looks pretty. It’s sparkly.”

  Lilaci smiled. “Yes, it is sparkly, isn’t it? I’ll show you how to use it sometime soon.”

  “Down!” Roren yelled suddenly, from behind. They all without hesitation dropped to the hot sands, each instinctively throwing out their tan cloaks onto their backs, leaving no shadow to detect as they rustled themselves into the sand.

  “What is it?” Lilaci asked back to him.

  “Thought I saw something, to the south. A shadow on the horizon.”

  Lilaci scanned the direction he was looking. Intently, she gazed for several minutes, hardly blinking. Yet, after ten minutes of looking she saw nothing except endless sands.

  “See anything again?” Burr yelled back.

  “No,” Fewn said.

  “I don’t see anything,” Kera said.

  “Must’ve been a tumbleweed,” Roren said, returning to his feet.

  “Let’s move on,” Burr said. They all rose back up and continued on again towards the rolling mountain range miles in front of them. Kera slid the dagger’s tip into its sheath and tied it to her belt at the small of her back, just as Lilaci did.

  Long hours passed, as they all strode through the desert once more, back towards the egg. The sands grew deep as they pressed further into the flat desert. Light winds blew across them, blowing swaths of sand behind them, burying their long tracks. The sand they walked through rose to their ankles, which made the walk that much harder. An hour back, Roren had offered to carry Kera, who’d become fatigued. She gladly accepted, and she jumped onto his back, as he continued forth, trudging through the deep sands.

  Fewn remained quiet, deep in thought, or simply content she was allowed to stay with Kera. Burr walked on as though he was unfazed by the long walk. It appeared to Lilaci that he was a hard-worn man, who probably lived his long life in the harshest of the deserts, hiding, waiting for the right time to return to the world. Lilaci went up to his side, and they walked next to each other in silence for the better part of ten minutes. They listened to the whistling of the winds, the shifting of the sands at their feet, and the slumbering breaths Kera took slumped over Roren’s back.

  “Have something you want to say?” Burr finally broke the silence in a scratchy voice, he then cleared his throat.

  “No, not in particular.”

  “Hmpf,” he groaned, continuing on, with her next to him. “I guess I’ve got something for you then.”

  “Yes?”

  “You’ve met these gods, correct?”

  She nodded.

  “What were they like? I would ask if you spotted any weakness, but I suppose you wouldn’t have.”

  “No, I wouldn’t say I witnessed any weakness, unless you count vanity as one. You know— they were strong, majestic, the whole room stopped when they appeared and spoke. They’re the Six, they could kill you with just a whisper.”

  “You saw all of them? All six?”

  She nodded. “All six, together.”

  He grunted, seeming to be deep in thought.

  “What was Dânoz like,” he asked.

  “Like a king, it was obvious, at least to me, that the others knew he was their champion. I doubt any of them would second guess him as a ruler. His word is law, so to speak. His voice was like thunder, his face was chiseled like stone. It was surreal to see him before me, as he was the source of all this pain and torment in these lands, yet, back then when I saw him, he seemed to inspire. Inspire— and terrify.”

  “I could understand that. I’ve spent my entire life hating them, despising them for what they did to my ancestors— my family. But, I understand that to defeat such an overwhelming power, you need to treat it with a certain amount of respect. Because if you underestimate an opponent like that, you have no chance. You’ll die. The Six not only killed off the dragons, but they beat our best. They rule over ever part of these sands. To take them down is nearly impossible. You know that right?”

  “Yes.” As much as I don’t care to think about it, to win against the Six is impossible. Our only chance would be to even the odds closer to the days of the Serpentine Wars. We’d need a score of dragons to fight them. Our most powerful weapon against them is a girl not even old enough to walk the sands alone. I remember them. I’ve looked in Dânoz’s wild, piercing blue eyes. I’ve seen the face of death. The five of us, walking the sands; hungry, thirsty, and fatigued stand no chance against those that need not sleep or drink. Against the gods, we are weak. “You’ve had a lifetime to think about such things. What do you think our best chances are? I’m only newly converted to this side, I’ve only thought about it very little compared to you. Remember, I fought for them until meeting her.”

  “That’s why I’ve come,” Burr said, casting his eye’s gaze onto the young girl carried by Roren, who glanced back over at Burr. Roren was listening. “The prophecies are all we have to go on now. She has to bring forth the dragons to these lands. The Knights will return to their former strength once the eyes of thousands witness the wings of a dragons ripping through the sky.”

  “So, what you’re saying is this— mind my ignorance,” Lilaci said, “I just want to understand— Kera is going to bring back an army of dragons, then the Knights of the Whiteblade are going to return. Then, another war is going to go on with the Six? So, all in all, we’re talking about another war that’s going to last years? A war that will rival the Serpentine War?”

  “That is what I foresee, yes.”

  Lilaci began to shake her head, heavy in thought. We are talking about a war that could take a decade to fight. Kera’s going to be wrapped up in a war that’ll be written about by scholars
for generations to come. I don’t want her growing up in war, we’ve got to fulfill her prophecy and then I’ll get her to safety. Too many innocents will die: we’ve got to let the dragons go straight to the gods, and they can settle it. We don’t need an army of Whiteblades. “No, no, no. That’s going to take too long. Too many are going to die. Even with an army, there’s a chance they could still lose to the gods. Kera would be in danger far too long.”

  “What other choice is there?” he asked gruffly. “We don’t even know how she’s supposed to do what she’s supposed to do. She not bringing them back out of thin air. It could take her entire lifetime to fulfill her end.”

  Lilaci went silent in thought again. An entire lifetime? What kind of life would that be for her? My dream for her of her living a life as a normal child in a nice world would never come true. She’ll be hunted her entire life. Our best chance would be for her to fulfill the prophecy quickly and be done with it. Why would the gods go after her if she was no more of a threat? What if she had done what she needed to do, then walked away? Who am I fooling- who is more spiteful than the gods? They’d kill her for nothing more than in the name of revenge. The gods have to die. That is the only way.

  “There is something else to consider,” Burr said. “And this much I say with a heavy heart.”

  “Yes,” Lilaci said, and she noticed Roren’s ears perk up.

  “I told you I’d tell you more of our encounter before we arrived at the Dune of the Last Dragon. The Garen Pixies.”

  “You’re ready to tell me of their curse?” Lilaci said, with a sarcastic tone. “I have little interest in old wives’ tales of the sort. If it was that important, or with any truth to it, you would’ve told us about it instantly.”

  “I didn’t tell you about it then, because there was no instant threat,” he said. “The curse is upon those who accepted the pixie’s third whisper. The tale of the Garen Pixie goes like this—

  A gentle fog rolls through the night

  When the desert’s breath whispers of pixie’s flight

  The Garen’s wings flutter with soft perfume

  Three tellings like butterflies in young cocoon

  One whisper is free for lucky ears

  A fortune the listener’s heart already hears

  The second whisper makes deep heartaches

  A dark road is foretold, with dire stakes

  The third, which words the hearer must accept

  Dig deep into the soul, weeping and wept

  For once the third is said,

  The hearer is cursed with dread

  Youth will not wait for age as years pass swift

  Old age rushes in, and youth is sent adrift

  Once all whispers are said,

  A fortune is told, and the hearer will soon be dead.

  “That’s uplifting,” Fewn said after the old man had finished. “Don’t believe that foolishness. It’s an old tale made up to scare little children.”

  “It’s true,” Burr said forcefully. “Old age will come quickly now for you Lilaci, as you listened to the pixie’s final whisper. You don’t have many years left. You need to finish what you’ve started.”

  “Have you heard this tale, Roren?” Lilaci asked him. “Is there any truth to this?”

  “I’ve heard the tale,” he said. “But I hold no truth to it. I too asked for the final whisper.”

  “You fool!” Burr said. “You knew of the curse, and still accepted the third and final whisper?”

  “The Order of Drakon doesn’t believe in false prophecies . . . Or curses.”

  “Damned be you all!” Burr said. “Do me a favor and don’t tell me what the Garens told you in that cursed last whisper. I want none of what they told you.” Such a superstitious old man. Indeed, he’s come from a different world.

  Kera stirred awake in the wake of Burr’s temper flaring.

  “What’s wrong?” Kera said in an innocent, sleepy voice.

  “Nothing dear,” Fewn said. “Burr was trying to scare Lilaci and Roren by saying they’re cursed by pixies. It’s nothing, you can go back to sleep.”

  Kera turned her head and laid her other cheek on Roren’s right shoulder and seemed to fall back into slumber.

  Burr scoffed in annoyance. “Does no one heed my warnings? I am not some old fool speaking false truths and old wives’ tales.”

  “No,” Roren said. “You’re just an old fool.”

  “Well, when old wrinkles creep onto your face and hands in the coming months, we will see who is the fool.”

  “If we live that long,” Fewn said.

  “Burr,” Lilaci said. “If what you say is true, which I’m hesitant to believe— do you know how to lift the curse?”

  “The way to lift the curse is quite simple actually, yet extremely difficult.”

  “And what is that?” Lilaci asked.

  “The pixies,” Burr answered. “You must kill the pixies that foretold those whispers. That’s the easy part.”

  “And the difficult part?” Fewn asked.

  “Finding them.”

  “Finding them?” Lilaci asked.

  “Yes,” Burr said with a slight smile. “They are pixies after all. How easy do you think it is to find one pixie in all of the Arr? There are a couple of other ways of course to lift the curse.”

  “Oh yeah?” Roren chimed in. “What are those? Standing on your head and counting to one-hundred?”

  “Dying,” he stared at Roren. “That’s one option.”

  Fewn laughed. “Seems a little rash just to lift a curse.”

  “The other is,” Burr paused in thought, “and I wouldn’t get your hopes up with this— there’s a potion that can be made and drunk to lift the curse. But finding its ingredients are harder than finding the inflicting pixie.”

  “What is so rare about the potion?” Lilaci asked.

  “The potion only has three ingredients,” Burr responded. “And each is rarer than the first.”

  “What are the ingredients?” Lilaci asked.

  “I’ll just tell you the first, so you have a hint as to the difficulty of creating such a potion. The first ingredient is three hairs from a queen’s head.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “I heard the queen tell you the name the king was to give you— that is— if you didn’t fail so miserably in your given task.”

  “Yes, she told me,” Veranor said. “I haven’t failed in my task. My task is only yet to be completed.”

  The Witch Queen Gorlen eyed Commander Veranor with fiery eyes. “You speak back to me?”

  “I’m only saying how I view the situation. You want the girl? I’ll get the girl. The complications that proceeded without my fault or folly I don’t view as a failure.”

  “I don’t know if I like the way you are speaking to me now,” Gorlen said. “It is I who tell you how things are.”

  “Very well,” he said. “You are one of the Six. I’m not trying to sway your truth.”

  She seemed without words for the first time since they’d met.

  “After this is all said and done, and I have the girl, I may kill you,” she said.

  “I know.”

  The two stood side by side, a quarter mile out in the desert, facing north. The Great Oasis of Noruz behind them, the city of Voru placed upon it with the Palace of Erodoran at its epicenter. Strong winds gusted past in the cloudless sky as the sun settled into dusk. Twilight was approaching.

  Veranor’s cloak whipped in the wind as the winds threw it harshly at his side. Gorlen’s light silver dress hung elegantly from her curved hips. The wind didn’t dare budge her divine silks.

  “Do you know in which direction the girl is?” Veranor asked.

  Gorlen stepped forward one pace and lifted her chin into the breeze. She swayed her head from side to side, sniffing, smelling deeply. Her head cocked to one side, letting her long blond hair fall over her right shoulder. She turned around with a wide smile, her white teeth showing, and her sky-blue eyes
glittering with white lights. “Yes. I know where the bitch is.”

  Part V

  Curse and Betrayal

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The sky was as blue as the clearest pool of water in a shallow well. A single puffy cloud hung high, seemingly stuck, not moving. The sun beat down on them, it was inescapable. There wasn’t a single thing to cast a shadow long enough to break its direct light. The linens they wore protected their skin from the savage burns one would get from only a few hours underneath the sun’s rays. Clothing never really helped with the heat though. Sure, thin cloth or linen would allow a breeze to blow against the skin easier. But with no winds, no breeze, the air was thick with heat. Anything within only thirty paces showed the shimmer of heat in the air. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide from its persistence. The mountains in the distance made the searing heat almost worse. They knew once they arrived in the foothills, there would be many places to escape the sun’s heat, but the mountains were many miles away still.

  Lilaci, head down, veiled underneath the overhanging of her hood, squinted her eyes to restrict the bright light reflecting off of the sands. She also rubbed a bit of dirt underneath her eyes, dirt she carried in a small pouch, taken from way back in the ground beneath the mountain they’d left. The dirt kept the sun from beaming off her light skin into her eyes. She’d rubbed some under Kera’s eyes as well. Lilaci watched her feet trudge across the barren wasteland before the Isoz-Bor Mountain range. Kera scuttled up to walk next to her.

  “Lilaci.”

  “Yes, Kera.”

  “I’m worried about the curse.”

  “Oh, you know there’s no curse,” Lilaci said. “That’s all just a made up tale to scare little children.”

  “Well, I’m worried. What if it is real? Burr doesn’t seem like the joking type.”

  “No . . . He doesn’t. He does seem like the old-fashioned type though. Keep in mind too, he’s been living in the shadows his entire life up until now. Who knows if he even ever met people from outside his Order before.”