War in the Winds
The Chronicles of Dragon: Book 9
By Craig Halloran
War in the Winds
The Chronicles of Dragon: Book 9
By Craig Halloran
Copyright © August 2014 by Craig Halloran
Amazon Edition
TWO-TEN BOOK PRESS
P.O. Box 4215, Charleston, WV 25364
ISBN eBook: 978-1-941208-57-1
ISBN Paperback: 978-1-941208-58-8
http://www.thedarkslayer.net
Cover Illustration by David Schmelling
Map by Gillis Bjork
Edited by Cherise Kelley
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Publisher's Note
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Chronicles of Dragon
Book 9
War in the Winds
CHAPTER 1
It was evening. A stiff breeze billowed the curtains of Selene’s chamber inside the highest tower of Narnum, the Free City. Alone, Nath sat on her throne, long returned to his human form. He blew a ball of fire the size of an apple into his dragon-scaled palm. After tossing the red-orange ball high in the air from one hand to the other for a few moments, he blew another ball of fire, followed by another and another—and began to juggle the four of them with ease.
Eyes wide and with exhilaration fueling his veins, he said, “I’m amazing. Simply amazing.”
The great doors popped open. Selene came in, alone. She wore a grand sleeveless white gown with symbols of Barnabus woven into it. Her arms were scaled the same as his, and she no longer wore the crown of silver leaves. Instead, her raven hair cascaded unadorned down past her shoulders. She approached with a sensuous walk and a beguiling smile on her face.
“My prince has great mastery of his flames, I see,” she said, stopping at the bottom of the dais. “It pleases me to see it.”
Nath let the fireballs drop and extinguish on the floor.
“I have you to thank for that,” he said, rising from her throne. “Please, have your seat.”
“No, you sit. I’m comfortable with you in my chair. After all, we are both dragons.”
“Then maybe we should get another chair,” he said, smiling and brushing his red hair over his shoulders.
“I like the way you think,” she said, rising up the stairs to him and giving him a brief embrace. She kissed his cheek. “I like it very much.”
“Great dragons think alike,” he said, smiling at her.
“Indeed,” she said, sitting down.
The drulture flew in from the balcony, followed by the feline fury. The winged dragon-cat prowled up the steps and nuzzled Nath. He stroked it behind the eyes and horns. Its purring was like that of a coming storm.
Nath went down the steps, took a seat at the great table, and dug into the abundance of food.
“I could eat a herd,” he said, biting off a hunk of turkey leg.
He almost always felt hungry. Selene said she’d teach him to control it. She’d been patient with him so far, saying the most difficult test wasn’t becoming a dragon, but resuming and maintaining the form of a man.
In dragon form, he had flown for hours. It had taken Selene just as many hours to coach him down out of the skies, and another week to teach him how to turn back into a man again. At first, Nath hadn’t understood the need to retake human form. But Selene said it was important to earn the trust of people, and even more, he needed to master his powers.
“When do we fly again, Selene?” he said.
“Soon,” she said, tapping her fingertips together. “I just have a few more matters to attend to, and then the open skies it is.”
“You said that last week.”
“Oh, Nath, don’t think like a person. A week is but a second for a dragon.”
This was another agonizing step in his training: patience. He’d been in the company of people most of his life. He was accustomed to moving at their pace. Selene was persistent in slowing him down and often suggested that he sleep. It made sense. There were plenty of dragons he’d known that slept years at a time, in some cases decades. Even he’d done that once already, for twenty-five years, but if he slept too long, it was possible he’d awaken with the Truce gone. For all he knew, at that point the world would come to an end.
His thoughts drifted to his friends. He missed them. I hope they are alright.
“Selene,” he said, “I’m ready to fly again now.”
“Oh,” she said, touching her hand to her chest. She gestured to the balcony. “Then by all means, transform and go.”
Nath dropped the turkey leg on the table, where it landed on the gold plate with a clank. His red brows crinkled. He’d only been in dragon form once. He hadn’t been able to resume it since. His eyes narrowed on Selene. Had she tricked him into becoming a man again so that she could control him? Did she fear his power in full form? Was he a threat to her?
“You’re too old to pout, Nath,” she said, checking her nails. “You know you can turn into a dragon, but you’re going to have to do it under your own power. Your own motivation. Not mine. It’s your body. You must control it.”
“And you said you would teach me how to control it, but you’ve been very quiet about that. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were avoiding it.”
“And why would I do that?”
“That’s what I’m wondering.” He shrugged. “And there could be many reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Fear,” he said.
“Of what?”
“Not being able to control me.”
“I’m not controlling you now,” she said. “You decided to take the Truce to spare your friends, and you are doing well to honor that. Other than that, you have complete freedom, do you not?” She came down the steps and stood behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders. “A city full of people chant your name,” she whispered, “Nath Dragon, Dragon Prince … the Peacekeeper. The Truce Bringer.”
In spite of himself, Nath smiled.
Rubbing his shoulders deeply, she said, “Long before the Truce ends, there will be no more talk of war at all. The councils of men, elves, dwarves, orcs, and gnolls bring greetings and salutations to one another.”
He could feel the power of her grip through his scales. He leaned back into her and closed his eyes. Her voice was so soothing.
“Think about it, Nath, the last great dragon war. What if it never happens?”
“I never thought about that,” he mumbled.
“But I have,” she said. “No one would die in a war that never happened. Together, we can bring peace to the land.”
“I don’t think Gorn Grattack wants that.” He twisted his neck toward her. “Are you turning traitor?”
“I cannot say,” she said, still rubbing. “But being with you, Nath, I’ve … well, I’ve begun to think about things differently.”
“Differently how?”
“I’ve always served Gorn. Been loyal. Faithful. I’ve been one of his own. But through you, I’ve glimpsed a side of things I’ve never seen before.” She swallowed. “You have friends you care about. I’ve never had any of those. In all truth, after centuries of life, I think you are the closest thing I’ve ever had to a friend.”
She shoved his head and laughed.
“I open my heart to you, and this is how you respond.”
Shrugging, he said, “I don’t think you have a heart, just a beating lump of coal.”
Her chuckle was wicked and delicious as she strode toward the balcony, mainly in the form of a sensuous woman. She was something. An awesome kind of something.
Standing with her back to the terrace wall, she said to him, “Watch and learn, Dragon Prince.”
Her lips moved, and the words were soft and quiet. It was an ancient form of Dragonese. Selene spoke many such things, and Nath was beginning to pick up on them. Her body shuddered, and her flesh groaned. Two black shapes heaved up behind her back and spread out.
Nath’s eyes shone like golden moons.
Dragon wings. With a beautiful wide span. Everything else about Selene’s form was the same. She pushed herself up onto the wide ledge of the balcony and showed an enticing smile.
“You can join me,” she said, stretching out her hand. “Come and join me right now.”
Nath hesitated. He was angry. Jealous. Confused.
“You can do this, Nath,” she said. “Just focus. Envision it. Think dragon!”
He closed his eyes.
If she can do it, I can!
He felt a glimmer of dragon magic within. Calm. Dormant. Dragons had powers that no others had. Great mystic powers. Breath. Spells. Many little things. Nath’s mind probed deep within, and he tried to take command of his powers. Obey me!
Nothing stirred, without or within. His eyes opened. Selene was there beckoning for him.
“Come,” she said. “I will take you elsewhere and teach you.”
“I should be able to do this myself.”
“True,” she said, batting her wings to hover in the air. “But it even took me a long time to learn it. Remember, Nath, be patient. Dragons should always be patient.”
He sauntered over to her, long in the face.
“Come,” she said, landing on the balcony. “We all fly here: me, the fury, the drulture, and soon you as well. Now, climb up here and stand by me.”
He did. Peering down into the darkness below, he could see the lanterns glowing, making a grid through the streets. Selene clasped him behind his waist and spoke into his ear.
“Have you forgotten the exhilaration of flying so soon? It is within you. Don’t you want to do it again, like us, like even the draykis?” She squeezed him. “Surely they are no better than you.” Her wings stirred the air, and his feet lifted from the ledge. “There is nothing that I can do that you cannot do, Dragon Prince.”
Nath needed to believe that, but he was having his doubts.
“What about the words you speak?” he said. “I need to know them.”
“No, you just need to find those words within. But,” she said, soaring far from the edge, “if you think it will help, then repeat after me.”
He nodded.
She spoke in Dragonese once again.
“I, Nath Dragon, do solemnly swear,” she started.
“I, Nath Dragon, do solemnly swear…”
“That I will grow my wings…”
“That I will grow my wings…”
“Before I hit…”
“Before I hit…”
“The ground down there…”
“The ground down—what?”
Selene released him with a cackle.
Claws clutching, Nath plunged a thousand feet toward his death.
“Noooooooo!”
CHAPTER 2
Frosty.
That’s how Ben saw the condition of Bayzog, the part-elf wizard. The Clerics of Barnabus hadn’t sent any word regarding Bayzog’s family in months. Every passing day further iced the part-elf’s demeanor.
Ben sat on a stool with his sinewy forearms resting on the rounded edge of Bayzog’s grand table. The wizard had been hard at work for days, with his nose inside his great book and his violet eyes glued to the pages.
How does he do this and not sleep?
Ben yawned.
Bayzog flipped another page.
Ben turned his focus to another set of objects on the table, the jaxite stones. There were three of them, large and egg-shaped, each with a warm blue radiance. They flared and pulsated from time to time, depending on Bayzog’s utterances. Ben couldn’t make heads or tails of anything Bayzog said. He had tried once, but it had given him a headache.
He plucked purple grapes from a fine bowl on the table and chewed slowly. Bayzog didn’t mind him being there, so long as he didn’t create any type of disturbance—what his parents would have called a ruckus in Quinley, but that was a lifetime ago. His thoughts drifted.
He didn’t have any family now. He’d checked years ago. His mother and father had passed. Many of his other kin had died in the war or moved on. His wife and children were dead at the hands of Barnabus. He clenched his fists, thinking about the last time he stared into his wife’s soft brown eyes. Sometimes he didn’t sleep well at night, with nightmares of the day he had shoveled his children’s graves. I should have been there to protect them.
He wasn’t alone in his loss. Families all over had lost. In a strange way, he found comfort in that. Motivation. He had to do everything he could to help put an end to all of this. Every time he vanquished one of their enemies, perhaps more senseless deaths were prevented. Bayzog had helped him see that. So had Brenwar. They were the only family he had left.
Bayzog’s neat black brows were buckled as another page flipped over. The book, or tome rather, was a monstrosity, maybe thousands of pages long. The wizard seemed intent on reading all of it. Searching, digging deeper and deeper, trying to find help. Ben felt for his friend, who was tormented over the safety of his captured wife and children. It was a cruel game the forces of Barnabus played with Bayzog. Ben felt his pain.
I don’t know how he does it. I’d have unraveled long ago.
They’d talked little about it. Bayzog seemed to have taken the servants of Barnabus at their word—that his family wouldn’t be placed in any duress or danger. That all he had to do was remain quiet and still, within the city. All the wizard said was that longsuffering was something elves were accustomed to, even though it did drive the man inside him a little crazy. He would endure, and he had faith that Sasha and his sons, Rerry and Samaz, would endure as well.
On its own accord, the book closed, lowered, and rested itself on the table. Bayzog rubbed his eyes.
Ben wanted to speak but held his tongue. He reached for the Wizard Water in a nearby pitcher.
“I’m fine,” Bayzog said. “I drank my fill hours before you arose.” He pulled his narrow shoulders back. The whites of his eyes were cracked. “But I’ve discovered some information that could be helpful.”
Ben leaned forward and said, “Tell me about it? And I hope it involves getting out of this place.”
Bayzog stretched out his long fingers and wrapped them around the jaxite stones.
“I have a handle on their unique power,” he said. His eyes smoldered the color of the stones. “And we can use that to our advantage.” When he released the stones, the glow went out. He turned to Ben and locked eyes with him. “Our enemy watches us everywhere, so we will incorporate aid from sources they will not suspect. We will use that aid to seek out my family and my enemies.”
“And what kind of aid might that be?” Ben said.
“Dragons,” Bayzog said. “I’m going to summon dragons.”
***
Tired, hungry, and thirsty, Sasha and her boys endured. Shackled, on foot, and tethered to horses, the three of them followed behind a train of soldiers. It was the third move in a month. Sasha didn’t understand the reason for it. Why not leave them locked up in one spot? Was that too easy? Was this mild torture? No one had spoken a word to them.
Arms and hands encased in metal cuffs tied
to her waist, shoulders sagging and sore, she glanced behind her. The gait of her boys was easy, but their heads were downcast. She was proud of them. Neither complained. Both stayed close, quiet, and determined to protect her, and they’d done well. A pit was in her stomach, however. She was the mother. She should protect them. Instead, she’d let them down and gotten them all captured.
I just wanted to be younger. Her teeth dug into her lip. What a fool I was!
Lizardmen and acolytes led the way up the rocky steppes with no sign of resting. They’d been to ruins, abandoned camps, and temples, stopping very little for rest. Above, the skies were dreary and the clouds thick and lazy. A misty rain fell on her face.
Oh how I miss you, Bayzog.
Navigating between two rocks, she slipped. Pain jabbed into her knee.
“Guzan!” she cried out.
Rerry and Samaz rushed to her side.
“Mother,” Rerry said, “are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” she said, trying to force herself up to her feet. “Just help me up.”
“No,” Samaz said, pinning her down by the shoulder.
“But,” she said, glancing at the nasty gash in her knee. She grimaced, and her eyes watered.
“Look away, Mother,” Rerry said, “while we clean it.”
“Alright—ulp!”
The horse she was tethered to jerked her onto her back, dragging her away.
Rerry sprang to his feet, yelling, “Stop the horses! Stop the—woof!”
A lizardman drove his spear butt into Rerry’s belly.
Rerry dropped to his knees.
An acolyte, small and ghostly with bright colors on his head, brought the horse to a halt. The rest of the small caravan came to a stop. Plum robes dragging the ground, he eased his way over to Sasha and inspected her knee. He offered her a smile full of gaping teeth and said, “You can walk or be dragged.”
She wanted to spit on the oily man’s face, but instead, she pushed off the ground onto her feet and looked down at him.
“Well done,” he said. “See to it you don’t lose step again. There will be no stopping next time.”
War In The Winds (Book 9) Page 1
