The Dragon Wrath: Book Two of the Arlon Prophecies

by Randy McWilson

  Trilyra’s eyes glistened. “What about now?”

  He fished out a coin and began rolling it through his fingers. “What about now?” he repeated quietly. “What…about…now. I guess I don’t know how to respond to a question that I haven’t even begun to answer for myself.”

  She nodded and folded her arms. “Fair enough. But you might want to tell him. Soon.”

  He nodded.

  “Not to change the conversation,” Mae’Lee began, “but is anyone else getting hot in here?” She grabbed a scarf and wiped a small bead of sweat off of her forehead.

  Hort shrugged. “I’m warm. But not too warm. Definitely not hot.”

  “I agree with not-hot-Hort,” Paymer quipped. “For once.” He winked at him. “Just scoot back from the fire. Maybe it’s hotter on your side, Princess.”

  “Maybe.”

  Arlon nudged up beside her. “You okay? You don’t look yourself.”

  “Oh, sure,” she replied. “I just got dreadfully hot all of a sudden.”

  He stared into her eyes. “Is that it? Is there anything else?”

  “Uh, no. Not that I can think of. Why?”

  He flicked a stick into the red-hot embers lining the bottom of the blaze. “Well, it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been looking sad lately. Especially today. Out on the trail.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, that. Well…I’ve just been missing my parents. I’ve never been away from them before. Not even for one hour, let alone days and days. I’m worried about them, and I know they’re worried sick about me.” She leaned up against him and patted his hand. “It’s tough, but I’ll get through it. I have my friends, right?”

  Arlon found himself getting strangely lost in her deep brown eyes. Friends, he thought. Friends? Is there something more than that?

  “Right?”

  “What?” he said, almost startled.

  She grinned and bumped his arm. “I said that I have my friends to help me get through this. Right?”

  “Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Friends. Friends to the end.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “That makes me smile.”

  He swallowed and licked his dry lips. Come on, Arlon. Keep the moment going. Say something. Do something.

  “How about a bigger smile?” he asked.

  She pushed off him and stared up into his face. “What’re you talking about?”

  Arlon reached around his neck and carefully removed his necklace. “Remember this thing?” he said as he dangled the captivating piece of Rone jewelry.

  Mae’Lee raised her right index finger and gently rubbed across the smooth, curved surface of the stone. “Well, if I am remembering right, I was wearing this necklace the first time you and I met.”

  He blushed. “Well, yes you were. And thank you for bringing up one of the most painful moments of my entire young life!”

  She leaned back with an offended look on her face. “Are you implying that meeting me was one of the most painful moments of your life?”

  He blushed even further. “Uh, now wait, uh, let me rephrase that poorly phrased phrase.”

  “Good luck, pal,” Paymer smirked under his breath.

  “Anyway,” Arlon continued, “you know that, uh, what I meant was that being whipped and, and chained to a stone bench was one of the worst moments in my life. Ever. Ever.”

  She squinted skeptically, acting as if she was weighing his verbal backtrack. “Well, let’s just say that I hope that that’s what you meant. Of course, you haven’t always told me the total truth…Arlon of near Long Port.”

  “Hey, that’s not quite fair!” he protested with a smile. “And I am from Pervazi. And Pervazi is near Long Port. So I am Arlon of near Long Port. But just from the other side of the river.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said with a matching smile. “You win. So…why did you want me to see the necklace that was your necklace then my necklace then back to your necklace?”

  He sandwiched it squarely between his two hands and twisted. “Because of this.”

  She leaned forward. “What are you going to do…make it disappear or something?”

  “Wait a minute,” Paymer hollered. “Is he doing magic? Cause that’s my job. There’s only room for one adorable magician in this group.”

  “I don’t know what he’s doing,” she replied.

  Arlon raised his upper hand and moved the two halves of the necklace closer to the light of the fire. Mae’Lee studied them and her eyes lit up.

  “Oh, my!” she said. “It splits apart.”

  “Look closer,” Arlon encouraged.

  Hort glanced over. “Why? What’s in there?”

  “Oh!” she exclaimed. “It’s a Dragon! Two Dragons…or two parts of the same Dragon!”

  “Really?” Hort asked, getting up.

  Arlon nodded. “And there’s more.”

  She adjusted Arlon’s hand carefully while Hort meandered over. “Oh, look how the firelight is shining through it,” she said. “Lovely. Just lovely.”

  “Can I see it?” Hort asked.

  “Sure,” Arlon replied, moving the Rone closer to Hort’s fingers. “But, uh, be careful, there’s something—“

  But that’s as far as he got.

  SHHHWWHHEWWW!

  A brief flash of light exploded out of the gem and a small shockwave sent it tumbling through the air. A tiny plume of dust erupted out of the recesses of the Dragon carving and drifted like a weak cloud into the fire. The amber flames flickered before transforming into a hundred shades of a haunting blue. Everyone jumped up.

  But Arlon didn’t see any of it.

  He saw a forest. And then a field.

  He saw all of the Dunamai riding furiously on horses. Then…the Dragon! In the air. Coming down at them. Oh no!

  Hort! Hort is running.

  The Dragon! Watch out!

  The Dragon has Hort!

  The Dragon is flying off. With Hort! Higher and higher into the sky. Oh no! Hort! No! Hort!

  “Get up!” Mae’Lee yelled. “Get up, Arlon! Something is happening!”

  Arlon blinked several times and threw his head from side to side. What happened? Why am I laying on my back?

  Hort bent over and offered him a quick hand. Arlon was horribly confused. Blue? Why does everything look blue?

  “Take my hand!” Hort called out. “Hurry!”

  Arlon blinked a few more times before clutching his friend’s wrist. A few grunts and strains later and he was on his shaky feet.

  “Whoa!” Arlon exclaimed. “What happened to the fire? Why is it all blue?”

  “We, we were all hoping that maybe you had an answer, pal,” Paymer called out.

  “I have no ide—“

  “Look!” Trilyra yelled, reaching for her sword. “Something else is happening!”

  At first it looked like some of the blue flames were growing taller and thinner. And then they began curving. More and more. Faster and faster. The swirl sucked in even more flames into its accelerating path.

  “It’s making some kind of circle! Or ring!” Paymer said.

  “I don’t like this!” Hort said, trembling.

  Mae’Lee pointed. “What is that? Something’s going on in the middle!”

  Arlon dropped to his knees, frantically searching the damp, dusty ground for the missing piece to his Rone necklace.

  “We’ve got movement,” Paymer said. “I see freaky movement inside the circle!”

  Arlon located the second half and glanced up just in time to see a shadowy figure glide into the center of the unstable image.

  Mae’Lee screamed.

  Trilyra took up a strong stance with sword brandished.

  Hort scrambled for the entrance.

  Paymer and Arlon were frozen with wonder.

  Deep, unintelligible words began pulsating out of the round portal.

  “Get back!” a loud voice echoed out.

  Arlon looked over his shoulder as Mogg came barreling into the cavern. Th
e Therion leader plowed straight through the center of the fire and began kicking burning wood and hot embers in every possible direction. Explosions of blue sparks and streaks of white smoke turned the interior of the cave into a spectacular (but short-lived) fireworks display.

  The portal collapsed.

  The blue flames flickered out.

  The cave went black.

  And Arlon never told anyone about his terrifying vision.

  CHAPTER 26

  After two and a half days of steadily trudging north (with several miserable hours of on-and-off again pouring rain), Arlon was gaining an appreciation of the immense and impressive territory belonging to the Kla’aven Skree. Its people may have been famously fierce, but he decided that their soft, gentle landscape was deserving of its own beautiful reputation.

  Mogg had been quite careful to guide them ever closer to the meandering sweeps of the Kordoni River to the east, but not too close. They had seen random pillars of smoke in the opposite direction, and tracts of poorly-kept farmland, but few other signs of the legendary and fearful inhabitants.

  Since the unnerving blue fire event in the cave, the journey had been fairly uneventful, even boring. And Arlon was glad. After days and days of being hunted (while at the extreme disadvantage of being on the run in unfamiliar territory), the relaxed pace was a welcome one. As the tension subsided, other things returned. Most importantly, conversation. It wasn’t common or always polite, but it certainly wasn’t forbidden.

  “I’m tired,” Mae’Lee called out.

  “Let me guess,” Trilyra replied with a condescending tone, “and you’re hot?”

  The Princess didn’t back down. “Well, I am. It is dreadfully hot. Which makes me feel even more tired.”

  Arlon always did his best to redirect the occasional flare up. “Just close your eyes and try to enjoy the breeze. There is a nice breeze.”

  “Breezes don’t make me feel any less tired.”

  Trilyra kicked her heels, encouraging her horse to move in closer to the group. “I’ll tell you what I am tired of,” she said. “Your constant griping. What’s going on with you the last few days? You were doing so much better, but now your royal whineness has returned with a vengeance.”

  The Princess shot her a dirty look. “Why don’t you drop back to the rear, where you belong? I don’t need a mouthy woman of the south criticizing how I feel!”

  “You think that I’m being critical?!” Trilyra exclaimed. “Have you even heard yourself in the last few days? You’ve become a whiner and a critic!”

  Arlon and Paymer exchanged concerned glances, and Paymer dropped back. “I hate to interrupt this wonderful conversation between two very beautiful and very talented ladies,” he said, “but we have more than enough enemies out there. So, we sure don’t need any enemies in here, in our group. Right?”

  Mae’Lee didn’t even look at him. “That arrogant woman of the south started it. We should’ve let her go back to the desert when she wanted to. Right at the beginning.”

  Trilyra couldn’t contain her laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me! I bet my bow that your little royal butt would’ve been dead over a week ago if I hadn’t stayed with this pathetic little enterprise!” She shook her head. “Does anyone remember the two cursed killers from the Order that I shot? Or, or the food that I provided when you were starving? Or the survival training? Any of that ringing a bell?!”

  “You see?!” Mae’Lee asserted, pointing wildly. “You see? That’s what I’m talking about. I am so sick of her little arrogant mouth and her over-inflated sense of importance. We have Mogg. Why do we need her? At least he is a Dunamai.” Mae’Lee glared over at her. “You’re just the whining sister of a dead one.”

  Arlon’s mouth fell open.

  Oh, no!

  Trilyra drew out an arrow and yanked it back on the bowstring so fast that it appeared to be one continuous, blurry motion. Arlon caught a glimpse of the same fire in her eyes that he had witnessed after Pelias was brutally murdered. Without even thinking, he jerked back on the reins and fought to place himself directly between the two warring females.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, now ladies!” he beckoned. The entire convoy came to a sudden stop. “Come on, this is getting waaayyy outta hand here.” He raised his left hand slowly and held it up towards Trilyra. He could see her whole body trembling in her growing rage. “Now, come on, Trilyra…just lower that arrow…nice and slow.”

  Paymer quickly inserted himself between the two of them as well. “Listen to Arlon,” he said calmly but firmly. “We are not your enemies. Mae’Lee is not your enemy. Save your arrows for the Skree or the Order. Those are the ones that want to kill us, remember?”

  Trilyra seemed as determined as ever. “I am about to make their job one worthless Dunamai easier.”

  “Hey now! Now that’s enough!” Arlon barked. “Listen to me! We are going to reach Alaithia. And the Sevasti are going to help us figure out how to kill the real enemy…the Dragon. The Dragon is who took your brother away. The Dragon is who oppresses our kingdoms and burns our cities. Think about him and direct your anger at him. Not at Mae’Lee. Please!”

  Trilyra didn’t move so much as an eyelid.

  “Listen to Arlon,” Paymer urged.

  Mae’Lee hopped down off of her horse and began walking away. Trilyra attempted to keep her aim fixed on the slowly moving target. Paymer eased himself directly in front of the arrow. “Just let the Princess go, let her go. Give her some space to cool down. She’s just been a little cranky lately. Give it another hour, and I bet we will all have forgotten about this little unpleasantness.”

  “Not in a lifetime,” Trilyra growled.

  Arlon slid down off his own ride and jogged over to Mae’Lee. He drew up alongside her but, she didn’t seem interested in acknowledging him.

  “Hey, listen…Mae’Lee, it’s me. Me. Arlon. Would you just look at me? We need to talk about this.”

  Her indifferent expression was as cold as ice.

  She kept walking.

  “Walking away won’t solve anything,” he protested quietly. “Now, if you ask me, I think we need to start walking back to the group. And then maybe—just maybe—you could kind of, you know, apologize to Trilyra?”

  No response.

  He glanced back.

  Trilyra’s arrow had not lost its resolve.

  “I know that she was being a bit mean to you back there, but, uh, you know better than to talk about her brother like that. That was more than rude, that was downright…hateful. It really shocked me that you would say something like that.”

  More silent walking.

  “Are you gonna talk to me? Or look at me? Cause it’s a little hard to work things out if you don’t.”

  Nothing.

  Mogg guided Tempest alongside Paymer. He pointed in the distance towards the wandering pair. “Has the young woman acted in such a fashion before?”

  Paymer paused. “Well, she has been a little hard to deal with at times. Especially early on. But, this…this seems…different.”

  Mogg squinted at him. “It is because this is different.” He turned his concerned attention on Trilyra. “Keep your dishonorable weapon ready,” he ordered, “and follow me!” In a cloud of dust he turned and galloped off towards Mae’Lee.

  Trilyra seemed rather reluctant to obey, but after a confused glance at Paymer, she charged off after him.

  “Remain where you are, Arlon of the Kla’aven Soteria,” Mogg commanded, bringing Tempest to a furious stop just ahead of them.

  Arlon frowned. “What?”

  “Stay back from the young woman!” he reiterated as Trilyra took her place beside Tempest. “Prepare to fire your weapon.”

  “What?!” Arlon exclaimed from a standstill. “What are you guys doing?!”

  Mogg ignored him. “Fire your arrow, but do not strike the young woman.”

  Trilyra pivoted her head to the right. “Uh, excuse me?”

  He pointed. “Fire your arrow, bu
t narrowly miss your target.”

  “Miss the target? On purpose?”

  “As you Vice say…yes.” He smiled and motioned for her to fire.

  “Wait! What’re you doing?” Arlon called out.

  “I don’t really know,” she replied.

  Mogg lowered his hand quickly. “Fire!”

  She did.

  The bolt sizzled through the air and whisked past Mae’Lee’s unconcerned face.

  “Trilyra!” Arlon screamed.

  “Calm down,” she replied. “I didn’t hurt her.” She sat back and cocked her head. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t even make her flinch.”

  Mogg dismounted. “As I said…she is different.” He gestured at Trilyra. “Put your dishonorable weapon away and go fetch the young woman’s horse and bring it to me. At once!”

  Arlon jogged up beside Mae’Lee as his eyes flitted back and forth between her and Mogg. “What is going on?”

  “Watch,” Mogg said. He stood directly in the Princess’ path. A few moments later, Mae’Lee plowed straight into him. Her legs continued moving, but Mogg refused to budge.

  Arlon’s jaw dropped for the second time that day. “What in the world?!”

  “It is as I feared,” Mogg admitted discreetly.

  The remainder of the group trotted up all around them without daring to say a word. Trilyra plopped down and led Mae’Lee’s horse over to Mogg.

  “What did you fear?” Arlon pressed.

  “Touch the young woman’s forehead.”

  Arlon complied, gently laying his right hand just above her eyes. He jerked it back immediately. “Oh, wow!”

  “Wow what?” Paymer asked.

  Trilyra felt her skin as well. “Wow. That is…not…good.”

  Paymer was beside himself. “Would somebody please tell me what is ‘not good’? And while you’re at it, would somebody also please tell me why the Princess is still walking but getting nowhere?!”

  “It is the fever,” Mogg responded. “The Walking Fever.”

  “Walking Fever?” Hort repeated. “Is that bad?”

  Mogg glared at him. “Only if death is bad.”

  Hort gulped. “Oh.”

  Arlon paced back and forth. “Are you telling me that she could die?”