War In The Winds (Book 9)

by Craig Halloran

  Gorlee absorbed the stone’s features and became harder than the rock itself.

  “WHAT IS THIS?”

  Gorlee regained his feet and now stood a stone goblin. And kept on growing.

  Bletver’s dark eyes widened.

  “NO! NO, IT CANNOT BE!”

  Gorlee stood eye to eye with the triant now and watched it back away.

  “YOU!” Bletver chanted. “IT CAN’T BE!”

  “Give me that stone,” Gorlee said, holding out his hand.

  Bletver engulfed it with his great hands.

  “NEVER!”

  Gorlee pounced. He picked up Bletver and slammed him to the ground.

  Some of the other prisoners gathered what they could and attacked Gorlee. He grew another size larger than Bletver and let his stone fists loose.

  WHAM!

  WHAM!

  WHAM!

  WHAM!

  Bletver reeled. The Chamal Stone slipped out of his fingers.

  “NO,” Bletver whined, “NO, not again...”

  Gorlee smashed the yellow stone on the rock floor, into a thousand pieces.

  Its essence filled him. His memories flooded his mind.

  Tears streamed from his eyes. He dropped to his knees with his face lit up with elation. A broad smile formed on his rock-goblin face.

  “Time to go,” he said, swatting away his assailants. He turned back to Bletver. The triant sagged against the chamber wall, chin buried in its chest. It didn’t even glance his way.

  “Go,” Bletver grumbled, “and return never again.”

  Gorlee sauntered out of the chamber and squeezed back down the corridor that led him to the pit. The other prisoner was gone. He rubbed his chin and looked up into the well of The Deep. He recalled the icy grip and daunting powers of the phantom.

  I did it once. I can do it again!

  He reached up, dug his rock hands into the rock walls, and started shimmying up the well. The howl of the phantom shrieked in his ears. Its black ghostly form coated him like black ice and tried to force him down.

  “We meet again,” Gorlee said.

  He scrambled up the tunnel with the phantom shrieking inside his mind. The blood in his veins became icy water, but he did not slow. He could feel the phantom’s anger and hatred tearing at him from the inside.

  Gorlee’s goal was the beacon of light at the top of the well. He had to get up there and help his friend, Nath Dragon. His own deceptions and guilt fueled his inner fire of determination to make things right.

  “You couldn’t stop me last time,” Gorlee grunted, “and you won’t stop me now!” He laughed. “Ha! Twice I will have escaped your precious Deep!”

  The phantom was a force. A guardian with a mission. It had little intelligence of its own, just a mission: don’t let anything escape this tunnel. That was all it had ever known.

  The higher Gorlee climbed, the more the monster’s energy faded. Near the top, it drifted away, its mission a failure.

  “I’ll be,” Gorlee said with a grin. The phantom was gone. His fingers reached the rim, and he changed form again, back into the guard named Jason. Climbing out of The Deep, he found himself standing naked in front of the other guards. They all gaped at him. He covered himself and said, “Sorry, Commander, but I seem to have lost my trousers.”

  Gawping and scratching his head, the veteran guard said, “I can’t believe that’s all you lost. Now fetch yourself a new uniform and stay away from the rim.” He tossed Gorlee a cloak. “Sultans of Sulfur, young men do the most foolish things!”

  CHAPTER 20

  Riding on horseback south of Narnum near where the three rivers met, Nath and Selene shook off the drizzling rain. A host of soldiers rode and walked before and after them, weapons and armor creaking and jangling. They’d ridden for days, visiting small towns and cities, and the people heaped his praises. By all of his observations, things were becoming prosperous and back to normal. The people smiled and cheered. The children showed no long faces. But the armies of Barnabus were always near, like slow-moving rainclouds in the background.

  He shifted in his saddle, eyeing the sky. The feline fury circled in the air. It wasn’t alone, either. Dozens of grey scalers swooped through the sky in tight formations, accompanied by red horned dragons as well.

  “How do you control them?” Nath said. “I see no jaxite stones in your possession.”

  “Those stones are for the overlords,” she said. “These dragons you see here, they serve the same cause as me. Their service is voluntary.”

  Nath thought about Snarggell and all they’d sacrificed to put an end to the jaxite stones. He’d killed the lurker and removed the crystal gnomes from the cursed Floating City, but it seemed the damage had been done already.

  “Do they speak to you?” he asked her.

  “How do you mean?”

  He shrugged.

  “I see,” she said. “No and yes. I’ve earned their respect, and that’s why they stay. It’s not easy to control dragons.”

  “That’s why you need the stones.”

  “Even without the stones, the dragons would have made their choices sooner or later,” she said. “All dragons ultimately serve themselves.”

  Nath had rescued countless dragons over the years, so he knew they did have selfishness in common. They could be good, greedy, selfish, nasty, and surprising. Only one that he recalled in all his years had ever thanked him. The dragons, even to him, were still a mystery. His father said dragons were good, but many were fallen. That’s why you needed to watch out for them. They could be deceived as easily as men.

  “They are our brothers and sisters, Nath,” Selene continued, “and they want the same peace that we want. Give it some time, and you will see that.”

  “And what of Gorn Grattack?” He eyed her. “Does he want peace, or does he want power?”

  “It takes power to maintain peace. At least, that is his way. Don’t get power confused with force, Nath. Don’t get distracted. We are making progress, I believe.”

  The feline fury landed between them. Its mane of hair rose on the back of its neck, and its eyes were intent on Nath.

  “Seems this dragon is talking to you,” Selene said. “What does he say?”

  The fury didn’t communicate as most dragons do. Not through thoughts or speech. Instead, it nudged his leg, and Nath could feel the heaviness within its being.

  “He’s seen something ahead. It’s treacherous and worrisome.” He tugged the reins of his horse. “Lead the way!”

  The feline fury sprang into the air, wings beating. Nath kicked his horse into a gallop and trampled by the soldiers, keeping the fury in sight. The magnificent dragon diminished into a speck and joined a circle of grey scalers that drifted in the sky. Behind him, Selene rode. Galloping through the high grass, he slowed. Smoke rose over the tree line. Thick and yellow. A strange pungent stink lingered in the air.

  “I know that smell,” Nath said. He whipped the reins. “Ee-Yah!”

  Another two miles of hard riding, and his horse and thoughts came to an abrupt halt. The forest valley was a battlefield. Soldiers. Dragons. And none of them moved.

  “No,” Selene said, horrified. “No, it can’t be.” She trotted her horse alongside the smoking corpse of a huge dragon and hopped off the saddle. “Inferno!” She lay down between his scorched skull and broken horns, sobbing. “I-I can’t believe it.”

  Nath felt numb. Inferno wasn’t the only fallen dragon in the valley, just the biggest. There were dozens scattered all over. Some torn to pieces and others smoking corpses. Blue streaks, grey scalers, green lilies, sky raiders, white lotus flares, and even an orange wizen. Trees were crushed and uprooted. Craters were blasted in the dirt. He covered his nose and coughed, eyes watering. He’d never seen or imagined such a spectacle of war before. A war between dragons! Their blood drenched the earth. He clenched his jaw and fists. A swell of anger pounded inside his chest.

  A host of soldiers rode in behind them. Nath stoppe
d the leader and said, “No one better pluck one bone, horn, scale, or anything from any of them.” Nath poked a hole through the man’s chest plate with his claw and rent a rift in it. “Do you understand?”

  The commander in full plate armor nodded.

  “As you wish. Any defilers will meet with their deaths.” He bowed and dispersed his men. “I’ll put my best men on watch at once.” He glanced at the sky. “And ready our troops for any other circumstances.”

  Nath dismounted and made his way through the carnage. It wasn’t natural, dragons killing one another. Oh, he had seen dragons scuffle before, but this was different. This, indeed, was war.

  He kneeled alongside an orange blaze dragon, much like the one he’d rescued in the orcen outpost so long ago. He pushed the lids down over its frozen stare. He stroked its metallic orange neck.

  How can this be?

  Other races fought all the time. They battled, warred, and skirmished, but this battlefield left a great hole inside him. He stood up and wiped his eyes.

  I can’t let this continue to happen. I can’t.

  ***

  “You should eat something, Nath,” Selene said, motioning to a plate of food that was piled in front of him. “It will comfort you in times like this.”

  “I’ve no appetite,” he said, leaning back on a small chair made for travel. He sneered at his meal.

  The pair of black dragons sat inside an extravagant tent big enough for twenty people. Carpets lay on the ground. Deep colorful tapestries were hung. It had all the comforts of the city, aside from a bed. There were large plush cots instead.

  Selene made her way out of her seat and poured steaming hot liquid from a kettle.

  “Some tea, perhaps,” she said. “It helps my mind rest.”

  He frowned.

  “Nath,” she said, easing her hips on the table, “there is a Truce, at least there is on our end.”

  “You mean your end.”

  She shrugged. “As I see it, it was not my dragons that struck first. Inferno was ambushed.”

  “There must have been a reason,” Nath said.

  “There is a war, and not all wars are fought with battle. There are more subversive tactics than that.” She pushed the tea toward him. “Drink. Talk. Listen.”

  He took a sip from the cup. “Happy?”

  “Now is not a time to be happy,” she said. “Now is a time for mourning the lost. And a time for planning.” She stroked his hair. “Nath, we’ve made a Truce with the races, but a truce with the dragons is another thing entirely. And I don’t think they would have acted on their own without orders.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her and said, “What are you trying to say?”

  “I think you know what I’m suggesting.”

  He stiffened in his chair and pushed her hand away.

  “You think my father is responsible for this? Do you?”

  “You are thinking the same thing, Nath,” she said, grabbing his chin and staring straight into his eyes. “My dragons were attacked without provocation. You saw that.”

  “What I saw was a battle.” He pushed himself out of the chair.

  “A senseless slaughter!” She banged her fist on the table. “You saw Inferno. He’s one of the most ancient dragons in the world, and he was picked off in a battle without honor.”

  Nath’s stomach churned. She was right. The dragons had hit Inferno hard and fast. The great beast had been blindsided.

  “I have no doubt you have used similar tactics.” Nath tore off a leg of turkey and bit into it. Selene lifted a brow. He waggled the leg at her. “And it was under your orders that this war began in the first place.”

  “Hah!” She tossed her head back. “You are a fool! This war started long before me or you. If anyone initiated it, it was your father.”

  “You dare!”

  “I do dare!” She seized his arm. “Nath, I know you love your father, but what has he ever done? He sits in the Mountain of Doom and dispenses orders to his minions.”

  “What minions?”

  “Oh Nath,” she sighed. “Are you so naïve? Do you think in all the land you were the only one rescuing dragons and keeping an eye on things? Your father has as many spies as I. Likely more. And not just dragons. There are elves, humans, and what about your dear friend Brenwar? What do you think Balzurth does inside that mountain home when you’re not around?”

  “Sleep?”

  She held her gut and broke out in laughter. “Ah-aha-ha-ha-ha!”

  Nath tossed the turkey leg onto the table. “Pah!” He scowled. “You don’t know everything.”

  “And you do,” she said, chuckling. She caught her breath. “Oh, I needed that laugh. I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in years. You amuse me, Nath.”

  His jaw muscles clenched. Again, Selene was pointing out things he’d never considered before. Why wouldn’t his father have other spies? How else did he keep such a close watch on things? There were times, so many times, when he spoke with his father and his father seemed to know everything. It only made sense that he had help with it.

  “Why would my father want war?”

  Selene cleared her throat and took a sip of tea.

  “Balzurth has one way of controlling things, and Gorn Grattack has another. It’s a fight between the two of them, if you ask me,” she said, “and I think it should be the two of them fighting it out and not us, their … oh, how shall I put it?” She tapped her clawed finger on her chin. “You don’t like minions—you made that clear, so how about henchmen? Yes, we are their henchmen. Or foot soldiers? Do you like that?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Nath,” she said, resting her elbow on the back of his chair, “Gorn Grattack raised me to serve his purpose, and Balzurth raised you to serve his own. It’s as simple as that. Are we special? Yes, I suppose. We can both do things other dragons cannot do, but we are just pawns, in the larger scheme of things.”

  “I don’t believe that,” he said. “I’m supposed to take my father’s throne one day.”

  “And if you aren’t worthy,” she said, “then it will have to be another.”

  The blunt statement stung, and his eyes drifted to his hands. Black scales with a little mix of white.

  “No one is perfect, Nath, and that includes our sires. They just want us to think they are.”

  He rubbed his temples and said, “So what is the point in all this?”

  She shrugged and said, “I suppose to them it’s entertainment, but I think we can change that. I think you can change it.”

  “I’m tired of all this fighting!” he said, balling up his fists.

  “Then put an end to all of it, Nath. You and I can bring peace among the dragons. I believe it.”

  Everything had become more difficult and more confusing. One day, he could turn into a dragon. The next day, he couldn’t. He was banished by his father yet accepted by his enemy. He had black scales, white scales, and could make balls of fire with his mouth. He had fallen a thousand feet and survived. But now, at this very moment, he felt…

  Nath glared at Selene. She had a way of making him feel as helpless as an infant. And a way of combining the truth with lies. Still, he found himself agreeing with what she said.

  “Are you suggesting we rebel against our sires?”

  Selene got up and rested her hands around his neck and shoulders.

  “Now you are starting to think the way a true dragon prince should think.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Whistledown. It had been either a large village or a small town; one could no longer tell. Buildings were shattered or burned to the ground. The streets were empty of life, the farmland and vineyards overgrown with weeds.

  Sasha kept her hand clasped to Bayzog’s. The husband and wife had not parted company for more than a moment since they reunited over a month ago. They walked hand in hand, arms swinging a little. Behind them, Ben and their boys followed.

  “A strange place,” Rerry said. He eyed his brothe
r Samaz. “I’m sure you like it.”

  “I do,” Samaz said softly.

  “Of course,” Rerry said, dusting his light hair out of his eyes. “Must be the lack of people.”

  “Behave yourself,” Sasha said. She nudged Bayzog’s shoulder. “They never stop unless it’s something else they fight.”

  Bayzog bumped her back and nodded.

  “They are as feisty as their mother,” he said, looking into her eyes, “and that’s a quality I always admired about you.”

  “That’s not a good thing,” she said, lowering her eyes. “Sometimes dangerous.”

  “Sasha, let it go,” Bayzog said. Sasha had been apologizing profusely for days, and Bayzog had forgiven her profusely even though he didn’t think there was anything to forgive. “You are too hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes.”

  “You don’t.”

  “I have,” he said.

  “Name one, then,” she said. “I’d like to hear.”

  “Me too,” Rerry said, catching up.

  “Count me in,” said Ben, strolling along Sasha’s side, smiling.

  Bayzog swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d made mistakes—he was certain of it—but they eluded him. Finally, he said, “I never should have left my wife’s side, nor my children’s.”

  “Mmmm…” Sasha started. “I can accept that.”

  Bayzog’s eyes enlarged.

  “I’m joking, Bayzog. A jest. You did nothing wrong with that.” She hugged the robed sleeve of his arm. “You had a greater duty.”

  “Greater than family?”

  “You know what you did was right,” she said. “I know it, too. We all do. And we can’t win this battle with you thinking like that.”

  Bayzog appreciated her words. They rang true in his heart, but it ached anyway. His boys were men now, and he hadn’t been there to see it happen.

  “We are ready to go where you go now, Father,” Rerry said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Even my overly knit brother can handle himself.”

  Bayzog glanced over his shoulder. Samaz sauntered behind them, dark hair covering all but the small elven tip of one ear. His sleepy eyes seemed to watch both everything at once and nothing at all. The Samaz he saw now was a far cry from the one in the cave, ranting about Gorn Grattack, sweating and chest heaving. Now, Samaz moved with perfect peace.