Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3)

by A. Evermore

  Beneath them stretched a plain of grass dotted with purple, yellow and white mountain flowers. The grass billowed in a gentle breeze. A single wide river flowed fast with snow melt in the middle of the plain, and hugging the mountain slopes were thick forests of hardy evergreens. The sky was clear and deep blue, and for a moment he fancied there were two bright suns and not just one shining down. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The rich smell of grass, pine and snow filled his lungs. It reminded him so much of the Dragon Dream, and it whispered the very essence of freedom.

  ‘Asaph?’ Coronos’ voice drifted down into the meadows of Drax. ‘Asaph?’ he opened his eyes, felt the Recollection close like a book.

  ‘Huh? Sorry I was drifting.’ He blinked trying to get his bearings.

  Issa was grinning at him. ‘I guess I’m not the only one who gets visions,’ she said.

  ‘I was thinking of Drax, I’d like to see it one day,’ Asaph said.

  ‘Me too. But for now we are tired,’ Coronos said. ‘It’s getting late and I’m hungry. I think it’ll be safe to camp in the woods, hidden from the road but not too far from it.’ They all agreed and spent the next half an hour riding along the road looking for a suitable spot to stop.

  ‘With two orbs we should be able to create a very safe protective field to shield us from view. Vagabonds, cut-throats… Ogres or Life Seekers. Hopefully even demons won’t know we’re there,’ Coronos said.

  ‘And bugs,’ Issa chimed in. ‘Please keep those big ants away from me. We never had such huge insects on Kammy.’ She shook her head in disgust.

  They found a small animal track leading into the woods across a brook where a curve in the road came. Pretending to look at the map, they waited for the last merchant to disappear along the road to Corsolon.

  ‘The road is empty let’s go,’ Asaph said. They trotted along the animal track into the woods.

  ‘It pays to be cautious when travelling and sleeping in the open,’ Coronos said with an approving nod.

  In the wood they found a dip in the bank and flat grassy ground surrounded by trees not far from the brook. There they dismounted and unpacked their things. Issa filled up all their water canisters in the brook, whilst Asaph and Coronos looked for wood to light a fire. The mayor’s kitchen had kindly given them several bags of dried roots, beans, herbs and spices, and after a few copper coins from Coronos, a lightweight crockpot to make a stew.

  ‘Avernayis,’ Asaph said a while later when they were all slurping down hot stew. The horses were tethered, apart from Duskar, and busy dozing or munching on the grass. A soft glimmer over them reassured that the protective shield was in place. The sun had set, but the sky was not yet fully dark. There was a slight chill in the air now they were further north, and everyone had wrapped themselves up in their cloaks.

  ‘What was it like? Avernayis. It is in the south, isn’t it?’ Asaph said.

  Coronos nodded. ‘The home of my birth is south of the Grey Lords. Warmer and wetter than the north, Avernayis was just a small coastal town in South East Drax. It would have been the first to be crushed under the Maphraxie invasion. It was unremarkable, but as a boy it was fun to be beside the sea crabbing and hunting for limpets. As a boy I thought I’d be a fisherman. I had no idea I would one day become a Dragon Rider, or climb so high as to be the protectorate of the King and Queen of Drax. All I knew is that when I saw the dragons and Dragon Riders flying I just had to be one. Even now I have dreams of flying - the freedom and wonder, nothing can beat it.’

  ‘No it can’t,’ Asaph smiled.

  ‘When I fly as a raven it seems different,’ Issa said. ‘I guess it seems so natural, the wonder is a little lost to me. It’s totally different to flying on the back of a dragon, that’s quite frightening.’

  ‘You’ll learn to love it in time, and walking around on two feet will feel so cumbersome,’ Coronos said.

  ‘Can I see the Orb of Water?’ Issa asked him. ‘I want to feel if it can shed any light on the demons.’

  ‘Of course,’ Coronos said and passed her the orb. ‘You are its true Keeper now, I only carry it. Sadly I cannot tell you how to use it. Everything I know about my orb was passed down to me from my predecessors, and a few other tricks I learnt along the way.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Issa said, taking hold of the beautiful turquoise orb. It glowed brighter as she took it, responding to the touch of its Keeper. Asaph hadn’t seen her do anything with the orb until now, not that she was doing anything, she was just sitting there staring into it. Coronos busied himself cleaning his pipe and filling it with lintel weed.

  Asaph set his bowl down and sat back against the sloping grass, arms behind head, eyes never leaving Issa. He liked the way her long shiny hair fell over her shoulders. Her pale slender hands that held the orb, hands that knew how to wield a sword, were becoming calloused like his own. He would like to practice sword fighting with her sometime. He yawned and his eyes drooped down to the swirling blue within the Orb of Water. Like the Orb of Air, if you stared into it, it became mesmerising, just as Issa was currently mesmerised by it.

  To visit a liberated Drax with Issa, that was his ultimate dream. He would hunt for the sword, the great Sword of Binding. It could still be there, hidden deep in the underground tunnels of Draxa, he would find it. He fancied he could see the sword in the orb then, floating within its blue surface.

  The Recollection opened easily to him in his semi-mesmerised state and he saw the sword’s long greyish blue blade shining brightly, the blood red pommel formed from the blood of Slevina, the dragon queen slain by it. The sword was surrounded by darkness. “The great sword is hidden deep within the fortress of Drax, or was. Only myself, and the King and Queen ever knew where it was and how to find it.” Those were Coronos’ words. He reached out to touch that pommel. As soon as he did memory that was not his own flashed before his eyes.

  ‘Die you bitch!’ he screamed, and plunged his long blade deep into the gigantic chest of the dragon queen.

  Asaph’s memory switched. An agonising poisoned blade was embedded deep into the scales of his chest. He glared down at the hateful human and screamed in rage and agony. He lifted himself up, bringing into his belly all the fire he could muster. He belched it forth along with blood so that he sprayed the human with flames and gore. He felt himself collapsing, his punctured heart pouring away its life.

  Again his memory changed. He was human, on fire, and writhing in agony. He fell forwards into the blood of the dragon. His own blood poured from a hundred burning wounds. The blood extinguished the flames, but his life was spent. There he lay on the frozen mountainside, bleeding and dying beside his enemy - the bleeding and dying dragon queen. The blood gurgled into his nose, he tried to roll onto his side.

  Asaph awoke with a jerk. His heart was pounding and his chest hurt from the memory of the sword embedded in it. He blinked into the blackness trying to remember where he was. Coronos and Issa were sleeping beside him. His arms were dead from having fallen asleep with them behind his head. He lay back down waiting for the blood to come into them and the pain to go. He had been dreaming, dreaming of Qurenn and Slevina. Great Feygriene, those memories were so vivid. He gave a long sigh, still shaken.

  Coronos was snoring softly and Issa snuffled now and again. They must have left him sleeping. He hadn’t realised he’d drifted off. He felt wide awake now though. Finally his arms were functional again and he eased himself up to sitting. He took a long drink of water from his flagon, and his dragon sight adjusted to the darkness. There was a little starlight coming through the trees so it wasn’t pitch black.

  A movement to his left captured his attention. He peered into the forest, then stood up and picked up his sword silently. It was probably just an animal. Nothing would see them encamped here unless it was a magic wielder up close. The hairs prickled on the back of his neck. Something was watching them, could it see through the shield or was it just looking in their general direction? He came to the edge of the shiel
d, just a subtle shimmer in the air.

  Something white moved amongst the branches in the distance. He strained to see, but it was gone. If he left the safety of the shield, whatever it was would see him and their presence would be known. Unless of course they could see him already. Why would he feel eyes upon him if he was shielded? Only a hunter could have that affect on him, the prey. He gripped the hilt of his sword, and pulled it a little out of its scabbard.

  An owl hooted in the distance. Another owl, this one much closer, replied. There came a distant rustling, a flicker of white in the trees far away, then the sound of a bird taking flight. Asaph sighed and slotted his sword back into its scabbard. Just owls hunting. He sat back down, plumped up his cloak into a pillow, and lay down. He kept his sword close as he drifted into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 18

  Project Dread Dragon

  EDARNA couldn’t get to sleep, her mind was filled with Dread Dragon scales and all the things she could make from them, not to mention the gold she could earn. She could advertise in Carvon, stick posters up around the city. Word would spread quickly amongst scrying witches.

  Dragon scales could be the one thing that reunited all the witches together. Imagine that, the Coven rekindled. She could start a movement, Rekindling The Coven. No witch in her right mind would ever turn down the opportunity to get her hands on incredibly rare dragon scales. She would become Grand Witch just for restarting The Coven, hah.

  She twitched her toes and twiddled her fingers with what could be. Nope, there was no question about it, she’d have to go get those scales no matter what. The body of the Dread Dragon was decaying fast, though the scales would decay last their condition would already be deteriorating. Her livelihood depended on it.

  The embers of the fire still glowed but Naksu hadn’t moved for a good half hour, the seer had to be asleep by now. Edarna sat upright, startling Mr Dubbins who was curled up beside her.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be hunting mice at this time?’ she whispered to the cat. ‘I’m going back to the Dread Dragon.’ The cat’s eyes narrowed to half-slits. Edarna interpreted that clearly as, ‘I can’t be bothered.’

  ‘Come or not, do as you please as always,’ she huffed and stood up.

  A Quick-Walk spell would get her there in half an hour, and if she worked fast it won’t have worn off by the time she returned. She had one night to do this, and this was that night. She highly doubted the seer would agree to her going back to the dead Dread Dragon, and certainly wouldn’t want to come with her. Nope, she was on her own on this one, and she worked better that way anyway.

  They had camped several miles north of the beast where, finally, the smell of death and rotting had disappeared. Mr Dubbins yawned, stood up, and went over to the sleeping form of Naksu. He curled up beside her and went back to sleep.

  ‘Fine, lazy cat,’ Edarna hissed. People thought it was all very nice and cute when cats curled up next to you, or let you stroke their fur, but all they really wanted was to steal your heat and get a massage. Edarna knew their ways very well, and she was not fooled.

  ‘You’d better look out for her while I’m gone. Or else.’ The cat opened one eye, rolled it up to look at the witch, then slammed it shut.

  ‘Hmph!’

  Edarna put on her green witch’s robe and instantly felt ready for work. She stuffed her wooden chest under one arm, and crept into the forest. There were no moons tonight but the sky was clear, and the way was lit by starlight. She walked some twenty yards away from the sleeping seer, opened her chest, and pulled out a green vial half the size and width of her little finger. Scrawled in barely legible writing were the words “QUICK WALK.” She unstoppered it and downed the sour liquid.

  ‘Urgh. Great Goddess. Why can’t they add a little sugar. Damn novice witches. No one to teach ‘em anymore.’

  Regardless of the foul taste the potion worked immediately. She felt strength and energy flood into her legs, a feeling she’d not felt since she was a young witch. She grinned wickedly. ‘Let’s go fast.’

  She set off at a stomping walk-run, covering the same ground in ten minutes that took an hour before. She did not even sweat or get breathless as she followed their tracks back the way they had come. Soon she was engulfed in rotting stench, and in less than an hour she burst through the trees to stare again at the horrific massive decaying body of a Dread Dragon.

  Edarna slapped her mouth shut and got down to business right away.

  ‘So, hmmm,’ she surveyed the beast. ‘Let’s start on the hard bits whilst we’re fresh.’

  The old witch set down her chest, and with a word it expanded to its normal size of about three feet long by one foot high. She whispered her secret spell to unlock it, and it undid smoothly even after all these years and a recent dunk in a lake. She lifted back the lid, and rummaged around inside. She drew out a long knife with a serrated edge close to the hilt, a thin reel of elven rope, and her prized hazel beam wand. At a word the tip of the wand began to glow white and illuminate the area nicely.

  ‘Uh huh,’ she nodded with a smile, then began to work out how she would get on top of the dragon to reach the largest, toughest and unblemished scales flowing along its horny spine.

  Wand between teeth, she hooked the so far indestructible elven rope that had never let her down around the furthest horn, and pulled herself up onto its head. She stood there balancing for a moment, half afraid the thing would wake up. Moments passed and nothing happened. She breathed a sigh of relief, and hooked the rope around the next reachable horn, leveraging herself onto a flat bit between its horns and its spine. With a belch the scales gave way and her foot sunk an inch into bloody puss.

  ‘Urgh.’ The sudden stench of rotting flesh made her gag, and she wrapped her shawl around her mouth forcing the bile back down. She struggled to pull her foot up and it slowly released with a loud sucking noise. Carefully she scraped the goo off her boot onto one of its horns, and began to leverage herself up again, choosing her footholds more carefully.

  ‘Oh my.’ She bent over breathless at the top of the beast’s bulk. A particularly shiny scale caught her attention, and she bent closer to inspect it. ‘A little blemish on the side, but nothing major.’ Satisfied she took hold of her wand and placed it against the scale’s edge where it overlapped the next. ‘You remember this part from before don’t you, Wandy.’

  Carefully she traced the wand around the scale, and where it passed a thin line of orange glowed. Next she took her knife and carefully prised the loosened scale free. It took some tugging, then suddenly came free. Edarna sprawled backwards clutching at her elven rope and the scale for dear life. She held herself still for a moment, then grinned and tossed the scale down onto the grass beside her chest.

  She pulled herself up and continued the increasingly tiring process of extracting scales. The hours ticked by as the witch worked over the body of the Dread Dragon, selecting the finest scales of all types and sizes. It wasn’t until the light of dawn blushed the sky pink that she realised how long she’d been working. She stretched out her aching back and yawned, but the thought of more dragon scales drove her on. Just a few more, it was always just a few more.

  When the sun began to top the trees, Edarna pulled the last tiny neck scale free with a yawn. Her legs were also beginning to ache, the first sign that her Quick Walk spell was beginning to wear off. She sighed, she wanted more, all of them. Reluctantly she packed the horde of scales into her chest.

  ‘Now for the fun finale,’ she grinned, pulling out a small black pouch. Using a stick she lodged the pouch into the beast’s lips, held her wand close and whispered a spell. A flame ignited at the end of the wand and set fire to the pouch. Edarna pelted it behind the nearest tree. An explosion rocked the ground and sent every bird in the vicinity screeching into the air. A few moments and lots of smoke later, huge chunks of rotting flesh began to splatter down around the corpse. When the last chunk of flesh had fallen, she ran over to the beast and squealed in delight.

>   ‘One fine dragon tooth.’ She clapped her hands and reached down into the gore where she extracted a tooth thicker than her arm. Carefully, lovingly almost, she wiped the black blood and drool off on the grass, and stuffed the tooth into her chest. With a word the chest shrank down to its travel size, and she tucked it under her arm.

  With a last reluctant look at the Dread Dragon corpse, she sped back through the forest, consoling herself that she’d harvested the very best scales she could find, and a dragon tooth.

  By the time Edarna arrived back at their camp, Naksu was already up and heating tea over a fire. The albino woman looked at her with a raised eyebrow as Edarna nonchalantly slipped from the trees into the clearing. Edarna smoothed back her hair and sniffed proudly.

  ‘I was up early collecting herbs for my supplies,’ she said. ‘We witches must be disciplined with our sleeping, you need to be up at dawn or before to get the freshest ones.’

  Naksu snorted and Edarna noticed her hair was wet.

  ‘Has it been raining?’ Edarna looked up at the clear sky.

  ‘No, I had a swim in the river at dawn,’ Naksu said stiffly.

  ‘Oh. Hah. Must be a seer thing. Is that necessary so early?’ Edarna gave a sweet smile. They swim at bloody dawn in a freezing river?

  ‘If you want to exercise and cleanse your body, mind and soul, then yes,’ the seer replied.

  ‘Oh,’ Edarna nodded, feeling more than a little unfit. She sat down with a yawn. ‘I just need to stretch my back out, not as young as I used to be,’ she lay down and stretched.

  In less than a minute she was asleep and snoring deeply. The seer looked on with a wry smile as she stirred her tea.

  Chapter 19

  The White Owl's Prey