The Dragon Wrath: Book Two of the Arlon Prophecies

by Randy McWilson

  Arlon felt the goosebumps immediately spread across his cool skin.

  Wow.

  Alaithia. The Sevasti.

  At last.

  It didn’t seem to be possible and yet it appeared to be almost within his grasp. He had thought and dreamed about the legendary mountain fortress most every day since his mother had first enthralled him with her tales back at the Chosen Estate. Paymer’s reminder of the famous Firebridge had only served to fan the flames of Arlon’s growing excitement.

  But excitement would have to wait.

  A fast shadow rippled across the sea of waving grass directly before them.

  What was that? he thought.

  “Did you see that?” Paymer asked. “Another Bloodtip Falcon?”

  Mae’Lee managed to roll her head around and stare into the cloudless sun. Her trembling words may have rang out garbled and muffled, but no one misunderstood her scream.

  “DRAGON!”

  Trilyra and Mogg whirled their heads about and caught sight of the dark form of the flying beast as it completed a wide arc and begin spiraling towards them.

  “To the trees!” Mogg yelled out as he kicked Tempest into a frantic dash for the least bit of cover. In an instant everyone followed his lead and barreled across the grassy flatlands.

  The Dragon pushed his head forward and pulled his wings back, streamlining his body into a diving projectile aimed squarely at his prey.

  Hort fumbled with the reins and leaned forward, desperately trying to cling to his horse while pitching and bouncing through the mad gallop.

  Arlon felt Mae’Lee’s suffocating grip triple in intensity as he fought to extract every ounce of speed out of his powerful steed. The Dragon roared louder and louder with the devious thrill of the hunt.

  Hold on, Arlon screamed out to Mae’Lee in his mind. Faster! Faster! He tensed up, expecting that a white hot blast of fire would rain down upon them at any moment. It pained his throbbing heart knowing that the Princess would probably be the first to feel the searing wrath of the enraged Dragon. Brief but intense prayers for her protection shot through his terrified mind.

  Paymer and Trilyra had almost evened up with Mogg, forming a wide triangle at the front of the pack, as Hort lost ground, struggling to even remain atop his straining animal.

  “Hold on, Hort! Hold on!” Arlon beckoned as they rode up alongside him. Hort looked too frightened for words.

  And that’s when the first fire fell.

  Like a superheated jet of flaming lava, a blast of Dragon fire roared from overhead and plummeted into the grass just ahead of Mogg. The plains erupted into a wall of heated fury and Tempest reared back, nearly hurling Mogg backward. Trilyra and Paymer cut hard, one to the left, one to the right, narrowly missing the hottest part of the raging blast. Paymer accidentally slipped off his spooked horse but managed to throw himself back over with considerable difficulty and continued charging for safety.

  The massive bulk of the Dragon sailed past all of them and dipped left with a hard thrust of his leathery wings to swing about for another approach. Mogg regained control of a startled Tempest and darted back around towards Hort.

  “Head for the forest! Head for the forest!” he screamed.

  Mae’Lee buried her face into Arlon’s shoulder and squeezed even tighter as they cut right to avoid the huge burning stretch of grass just ahead.

  The Dragon wasted no time lining up for a second fiery assault. With a shrieking roar that even terrified the horses, Terras Telos accelerated from the left, unleashing a solid line of liquid incineration across their entire path. A blob of molten fire slammed into the back haunches of Paymer’s horse, sending the wailing animal to the ground in a pitiful collapse and hurling Paymer forward over its head.

  The Dragon dipped low during the pass and whipped its tail at Trilyra with lethal force. A sickening snap echoed out as her horse’s unsuspecting head caught the brunt of the Dragon’s powerful attack. Trilyra ejected out of her saddle and plummeted face-first into the ground before rolling to a bloodied stop a dozen yards from her dying horse.

  Mogg tried to dodge to the right, but the Dragon thrust its serpent-like head towards him with jaws wide open accompanied by a horrifying roar. Tempest lurched high off the ground and nearly flipped backward, catapulting a flailing Mogg through the air. The frenzied animal recovered in a stammering fit and bolted in the opposite direction, slamming directly into Hort and his horse. The force of the collision launched the boy forward and he somersaulted across the plain, screaming the whole way through the stench of gathering smoke. Both of their horses spun around and raced back towards the west at top speed.

  Arlon jerked back on the reins as the Dragon whooshed before them, but not before the turning beast dipped its enormous right wing and clipped the front legs of their startled steed. Both Arlon and Mae’Lee plunged over the horse’s neck together and bounced to a stop in a mangled heap.

  Protected for a few moments by a swelling cloud of thick, dark smoke, Arlon frantically wrestled with the ropes that bound him to the Princess. He glanced up through the choking haze as he managed to slip up and out of the last loop. He scanned in every direction. Their horse was long gone.

  Where is the Dragon?

  Where is everyone else?

  Arlon kept low and snatched Mae’Lee’s hand along with their satchels. “Come on,” he whispered through a cough while making eye contact. “And stay down.”

  The pair scampered along the ground, hugging the searing edge of the blaze, trying to remain concealed for as long as possible. Arlon finally began to make out the tree line through the rippling waves of heat radiating off the scorched grass.

  We’ve got about twenty yards.

  He caught a glimpse of movement.

  It’s Mogg! Looks like he’s almost to the trees!

  And there’s Paymer!

  He stared back into Mae’Lee’s ashen face. “Get ready,” he mouthed. “RUN!”

  With a powerful burst of speed, Arlon renewed his grip on the Princess’ arm and practically dragged her out in a mad scramble for safety. Off to their far left, Trilyra had already closed half the distance to the tree line. Hort was nowhere in sight.

  A chilling roar.

  The Dragon was somewhere behind them. Arlon focused on the goal, resisting the dangerous temptation to simply look back. But, regardless of his resolve, Mae’Lee stumbled hard, crumpled to the ground and broke her grip with him.

  Oh no! Mae’Lee!

  He jammed his heels into the soil and twirled about. The dark, menacing form of the Dragon was just beginning to pierce through the rising pillars of smoke in his oncoming rampage. Huge eddies of swirling, curling ash wrapped around his wings and its four amber eyes stood out like glowing jewels set against a deep black cloth. The approaching Dragon opened its jaws, exposing row after row of jagged teeth ready for the easy kill.

  He’s going after the Princess!

  Arlon took several rapid steps and lunged into the air, throwing himself over the fallen girl like a protective shield. The Dragon’s head snapped down and clamped onto Arlon’s right arm and shoulder, jolting his whole body with waves of horrific, fiery pain. The screaming boy started to rise off the ground when a pair of arrows slammed into the Dragon’s head, one bouncing off near his nostrils and the other lodging deep into one of its back eyes.

  Terras Telos opened its jaws and roared with misery, dumping a bloodied-Arlon onto the grass, before bolting straight up, high into the sky with several flaps of its massive wings. The Dragon grasped the sagging arrow with one of its forelegs and jerked it out of its own eye-socket. The beast howled with pain and then hovered in the air with building rage. The temporary distraction gave Mogg and Paymer just enough time to rush out and drag Arlon and Mae’Lee under the cover of the trees. Trilyra loaded a third arrow and took aim just as Hort busted through the curtain of smoke in a full run.

  “Hurry, Hort!” she yelled. “Run faster! Run! That cursed Dragon is coming!”
/>   In a hasty but necessary move, Mogg deposited Arlon up against the base of a thick tree and spun about. The badly-injured boy raised his head just in time to catch the sickening sight that he had already witnessed once before; the disturbing vision that he had refused to share with anyone. Arlon’s whole face contorted in agony, and his right shoulder felt like it was on fire, but he couldn’t force himself to look away.

  Hort!

  Oh, no! Hort!

  The hulking form of the Dragon plummeted down with a fiendish roar and nabbed the fleeing Dunamai by the right leg. Hort’s face and chest slammed hard into the grass before his whole body was yanked into the smoke-filled air.

  “Hort!” Trilyra cried out as she aimed and released an ineffective salvo.

  “NO!” Paymer wailed. “NO! He’s got Hort!”

  Mogg dropped to his knees and pounded at the dirt in utter frustration. Mae’Lee draped her arm over him and pressed her sobbing head against his heaving side.

  Hort’s heart-rending screams began to fade into the distance as the Dragon carried him farther and farther away. A stream of hot tears trailed down Arlon’s dirty face, nearly matching the deep red blood that was already racing along his right arm and dripping from his trembling fingertips. The searing pain radiating out from his lacerated shoulder seemed to double each and every second. Arlon clutched his throbbing arm and hollered out in inconsolable agony. Things started to get blurry and strange.

  “Dragon bite,” a distant voice said.

  “Aren’t those always fatal?” another asked in muffled tones.

  There was a pause.

  “Yes,” another echoed.

  Before Arlon could manage another shallow gasp, everything went black.

  CHAPTER 32

  The pale radiance of triple moonslight backlit each and every one of his warm exhales, rendering each breath as a smoky column rising into the chill of the night. He wandered quietly, almost reverently, past row after row of silent stone monuments. His footsteps on the cold pavement echoed throughout the expanse of the lonely cemetery. Try as he may, he couldn’t shake the inescapable fact that each carved marker represented an entire life. A life filled with family, friends, accomplishments, joys, and pains.

  Pain.

  He knew pain.

  He knew the pain of loss.

  The pain of tragedy.

  The kind of pain that always fades and yet never heals. And tonight, he was determined to feel it fresh once again.

  The visitor eased to a stop before a newly-hewn headstone and gazed at it until either his raw emotion or the brisk air brought a flood of tears to his eyes.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Arlon,” a soft voice called out to him from the darkness off to his right.

  He didn’t look up.

  He didn’t need to.

  He knew that voice.

  “I saw it in my vision, mother,” Arlon replied rather flatly. “I saw Hort get taken by the Dragon.” He clamped his weeping eyes shut. “I should have sent him away. I knew it was going to happen.”

  The sound of her footfalls meant that she had drawn close. Very close. “Knowing something is not the same thing as causing something, my son.” Chara placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “You saw the future. You saw what was going to happen. Which means that there is nothing you could have done to change it.” She reached up and pushed his blond bangs back before gently kissing his forehead. “Hort’s death was not your fault.”

  He opened his eyes and she gazed back at him with nothing but a mother’s compassion. “You may bear the pain, my son, but you do not bear the guilt.”

  A new, raspier voice intruded into their tender moment. “Pay heed to your mother, Arlon of near Long Port. Her wisdom rivals that of the Sevasti. And trust me, in my travels I’ve known quite a few of them, my boy.”

  Arlon ventured a glance off to his left. Kash, his thick arms folded and clad in a heavy, dark cloak, sauntered towards him. The old man squinted through a weak smile as he pointed at the gravestone. “You can stand there, night after night, and punish yourself, but no one else will. You are not responsible.”

  “I may not be responsible,” Arlon sighed, “but I still feel responsible.”

  “Well, that’s just it,” Kash replied after a thoughtful pause. “Feelings are tricky things, my boy. Only a fool trusts his feelings. Sometimes, when feelings are right…they can save your life.” He nudged up closer to Arlon. “And sometimes, when feelings are wrong, they can ruin it.”

  Arlon sensed an even chillier breeze suddenly whip up without warning. The next moment the entire somber area was blanketed by a colossal passing shadow. The ground itself shook violently and several headstones exploded as the Dragon plummeted down from high above.

  “The Chosssennn Chiiild hasss already ruined hisss life,” the monster hissed while snaking forward. Arlon fought the urge, but he couldn’t help but shrink back and look around. His mother and Kash were nowhere to be found. The Dragon wrapped its sharp tail around Hort’s grave marker and reduced it to a pile of powdery rubble with a powerful squeeze.

  “And the Chosssennn Chiiild hasss dessstroyed the life of hisss friennnnd.” Terras Telos lowered his head and peered into Arlon’s trembling face. “You killed yourrr friennnnd.”

  Arlon’s heels backed into the base of a large monument, and his back fell against its cold, hard surface. He was trapped. “I—I didn’t kill Hort,” he protested. “You did! You killed Hort. But…you won’t kill me.”

  The Dragon slid his head away with a wicked smile and unfurled his translucent wings. “I won’t killlll you?! Faccce it, Chosssenn Chiiilllddd…I alreadddy have.”

  A sudden blast of searing pain shot through Arlon’s right shoulder, nearly crumpling him to the pavement. The Dragon thrust its wings forward, unleashing a furious dust storm as it lifted from the cemetery.

  “No morrrtalll can survive the bite of a Dragonnnn.”

  CHAPTER 33

  At first it was the constant, dull hammering.

  Then it was the smell.

  And after a while…it was just the smell.

  A fishy smell.

  Arlon struggled to split his heavy eyelids apart, but the blinding light (combined with absolute and total exhaustion) made it far easier to just leave them shut.

  He detected voices. Familiar voices.

  And excitement.

  “Hey, come here! I think he’s waking up.”

  Heavy footfalls on…wood?

  “What’s going on?”

  “He opened his eyes.”

  Is that Trilyra?

  “When?”

  Paymer?

  “Just a second ago.”

  Pause.

  “Well…I’m pretty sure they’re closed now.”

  That’s….that’s definitely Paymer.

  He sensed a soft, warm hand on his left arm, and then a radiating, burning pain in his right.

  “Arlon? Can you hear me? Arlon, it’s Trilyra. Are you awake?”

  He squinted and cracked his tired eyes open a second time. His head was pounding, his shoulder was throbbing, and his body felt too heavy to move an inch. A blurry face with long, blonde hair sporting familiar black streaks began to hover just above his.

  “There he is,” she said. “There he is. How are you feeling?”

  It took a few moments for him to adjust to the bright shafts of light that felt like needles stabbing him in the eyes. “I, uh, I’m not sure that…I would know…how to describe it,” he whispered.

  It looked like she smiled. “That good, huh?”

  A new face leaned in. “Whoa, you’re looking good there, pal. We’ve really missed your smiling face.”

  Arlon tried to swallow, but his mouth was desert dry. At least his vision was starting to clear up. “How long…have I…been…asleep?” he asked.

  Paymer chuckled. “Well, I don’t think that the word sleep quite covers it, pal.”

  “Two days,” Trilyra offered very matter-of-fac
tly.

  Two days?

  Wait…what’s that?

  He spotted something big and white beginning to flap in a tickling breeze that he was just now beginning to feel. “Where…am I?”

  “You are laying on your back on the deck of the Father’s Warning,” Trilyra replied. “We are about a day and a half out from reaching Headwaters.”

  “That is if fair winds prevail, lass,” a new, gruff voice called out. “And this time of year, I wouldn’t trust a wind on this confounded river.”

  Trilyra leaned in. “That was Birch. He’s the captain.”

  “Owner and captain,” the gruff voice corrected.

  “Anyway,” she said. “It’s a sailboat. It’s fairly good-sized. We chartered it yesterday.”

  The cloudless light wasn’t helping Arlon’s pulsing headache. “We’re on…a river?”

  She nodded.

  “Headed…north?” he asked.

  Another nod.

  Paymer dropped down next to him and leaned into his ear. “After the, uh, the attack, we lost the horses. Actually, one did stay, but it was hurt so bad that Trilyra had to put the poor creature out of its horrible misery. We couldn’t find Tempest. Mogg has taken it hard. Real hard.” He looked around. “Anyway, he and I made a little…cot thing with some branches and carried you to a small town along the river. We couldn’t find any horses for sale, but I found this boat for hire and they agreed to take us as far north as they could. To Headwaters.” He lowered his voice even further. “We figured that Alaithia is the only place that could help your…um…special injury. Traveling by water seemed the fastest way. We told the crew that you and Mogg were attacked by a wild animal. We’ve got his Dunamai mark kinda covered up with a bandage thing. And Trilyra took off her ear-chain. Probably not too many Ammodisians up this far north.”

  Arlon tried to let it all sink in. He paused. “How’s…the…Princess?”