Dragon Rise (The Dragonwalker Book 3)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Why do you search for Priests of the Flame?” she asked. Her voice was strong and carried to him, and there was an undercurrent of something in it that Fes couldn’t quite place. Was it heat? No. He didn’t think that he detected any fire mage magic, though it was possible for the priests to use that kind of magic, especially as he had seen it from Jayell. She might not be the only previous fire mage who now followed the Path of the Flame.

  “Someone I care about needs help,” he said. “She thought there would be priests found nearby, but…” He held the woman’s gaze before looking to the others with her. “I haven’t found the help I was expecting where I was expecting it.”

  “Where were you expecting to find it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The old lady cocked her head, and then she started laughing. “How is it that you would find help if you don’t know where it is to be found?”

  “She was with me but was captured,” Fes said. Why was he admitting so much to her? He felt compelled to answer… Almost the same as he did when he was around Azithan. He gripped the hilt of one of his daggers, running his hand along it. Holding onto the dagger allowed him to twist it slightly, just enough that he could try to cut through any magic that might be used on him. He wasn’t certain that was what was happening, but it was a reasonable explanation, especially considering how he felt drawn to share much more than he wanted to.

  “You said she was captured,” the woman prompted.

  “She was captured,” Fes said, squeezing the dagger. It helped him resist the urge to share, but not as well as he wanted. Despite holding onto the dagger, there persisted the sense of wanting to tell her more, to tell her about the fire mages, even to share how they had broken into the temple. Doing so would be dangerous if she served the fire mages.

  “Captured by who?”

  There was no denying the power in the question this time, and Fes clenched his jaw, trying to ignore that part of him that wanted to say something—anything—and he struggled.

  “She was captured by fire mages,” Fes said through clenched teeth. “Who are you?” he asked.

  The woman smiled at him. “I thought you came to find me?”

  “I told you I came to find Priests of the Flame.”

  She leaned slightly toward him, her brow wrinkling even more and a dangerous smile on her face. “Yes, and you have found me.”

  Fes shivered. He had never experienced any priests quite like this woman. There was something about her, something powerful in a way that was even more powerful than what he had experienced traveling with the rebellion and Alison.

  “You still haven’t told me who captured your friend.”

  Fes tried to fight the urge to share. He wanted to see if he could, and as he stood there, clutching his dagger, he found that he could not. There wasn’t anything that he could do to fight the urge. Whatever else would happen, he would share everything with her.

  He trembled and shifted his hand, gripping the sword, wanting more strength than he had. Perhaps if he could connect to that Deshazl part of himself, he could reach enough power that he wouldn’t have to worry.

  The woman smiled at him. “A fighter. Interesting.” She nodded to the man, and he slowly approached Fes, holding on to his dull and blunted sword.

  Fes tried to unsheathe his sword, preparing to fight, though not wanting to, not really. He didn’t want to fight the priests, not if they were here to help him. But then, if he didn’t face them, if he didn’t try to fight, he would be overwhelmed by this priest’s power.

  And it was nothing like the power that he had faced before. Even Talmund hadn’t possessed this kind of power. Skill, he’d had, and Fes had had the sense that he was considered a powerful priest, but that had been very different from what he now faced.

  He couldn’t move his sword.

  The other man continued to approach, and he began to bring up his blunted sword.

  Fes clenched his jaw, fighting against whatever magic she was using on him. This was not fire magic, certainly not the way the fire mages operated, but it was still some type of magic.

  Anger began to seethe within him.

  It boiled slowly at first, building. As it did, Fes squeezed the hilt of the sword, his arm trembling.

  The man was only a few paces away. There was almost a look of resignation in his eyes. Had he done this before? Had they found visitors coming to this place and had they attacked?

  For Jayell, he needed to get free. He needed to find some way of escaping.

  How?

  His arms trembled. He was close to unsheathing, he could feel it.

  The man stood in front of him.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” he said.

  “My friend needed me,” Fes said.

  If he couldn’t get free, they would destroy him, and then there would be no help for Jayell.

  Anger continued to surge, growing deep within him. Somehow—some way—he needed to withdraw his sword and be ready to defend himself.

  The man brought back his sword, preparing to strike Fes.

  How could they do this? They were priests.

  But then, they were something else, too. No priest that Fes had ever encountered had power quite like this.

  Could these people be the ones who Jayell had wanted to find? With this kind of power, he could actually imagine succeeding, finding a way to hide from the fire mages. But then, with this kind of power, they might not need to hide.

  Since he couldn’t move, there had to be some way to stop this man.

  “Jayell,” he grunted, barely able to get the word out.

  The man hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. Fes couldn’t move, couldn’t turn his head, so he couldn’t tell whether or not the woman was even still there. If she wasn’t, and if his sharing of Jayell’s name didn’t matter, there might not be anything he could do. He couldn’t withdraw his sword and couldn’t protect himself, but he needed to. He needed to try.

  His body trembled, quivering, still with no ability to escape from whatever magical hold they had on him. This was even more powerful than when he’d been bound by Elizabeth. At least then it had been the power trapped within the dragon pearls that had given her that ability. Even that, Fes had been able to detect, and he had recognized how she was performing her magic. His Deshazl connection would have freed him, were he to better understand it.

  Whatever the priest was using on him was more than what he could withstand. It was more than his Deshazl ability would allow him to break through.

  And then, suddenly, it was gone.

  The power holding him suddenly disappeared, and Fes was able to move. He reached for his sword, preparing to unsheathe it, and realized that he didn’t need to. The man with the blunted sword backed away, turning from Fes and heading back toward the priest.

  “That’s it?” he asked.

  “Where is she?” the priest asked.

  She stood in the shadows of two small buildings, and Fes could barely see her face. Was she watching him?

  “She was captured by fire mages. We were trying to make our way here, but—”

  “If she was captured by the fire mages, then it is her own fault.”

  “Maybe,” Fes agreed. He hadn’t argued with Jayell, not nearly enough, especially knowing that attempting to break into the temple would be dangerous for both of them. Maybe he should have challenged her, not let her convince him that they could do it. Breaking into the temple had been dangerous. More than that, it’d been foolish. “That doesn’t change the fact that I intend to help her. She thought that we could find safety with priests. I didn’t know exactly where she was leading me—and I’m not sure you’re the priests she intended to find.”

  The woman stepped away from the building and took a look at Fes. “She should not have been with you.”

  “The other priest with her is gone. There was a boy—”

  “Where is he?” the priest asked.

  Fes shook his head. “Missing.
There is a fire mage who had him, though I don’t know if he intended to use him or not.”

  “Which fire mage?”

  Fes tried not to share, but he didn’t seem to have much choice. Once again, he felt compelled to say more than he intended and the words spilled out of him, without any ability to resist.

  “Azithan.”

  “How do you know Azithan?” the priest asked.

  “I worked for him. I collect artifacts, dragon relics, and—”

  “He serves the empire,” one of the other people said.

  “I don’t serve anyone,” Fes said. “I serve myself, and I serve the payments I get.”

  “And who’s paying you for this?” the priest asked.

  Fes sighed. “No one. I’m doing this because of my friend.”

  “She shouldn’t have been with them,” one of the younger men said. He didn’t bother to lower his voice, seemingly unmindful of the fact that Fes was there. Then again, there wasn’t anything that Fes was able to do when it came to this priest’s power

  An idea came to him. Could she be Deshazl?

  If so, maybe there was something she could teach them, some way for him to begin to understand the power that he had but didn’t fully understand. There was no questioning the fact that had some connection to power and magic, but he didn’t have any control over it. It worked, or it didn’t, and even when it worked, he wasn’t sure about the extent of his own type of magic.

  “We know that she left,” the woman said softly. “And stories have told of a priest traveling with another.”

  “But him?” the man asked.

  The woman looked the man over and then her gaze locked on Fes. “This one is not what I expected. He is a fighter, but there is more to him than what I had expected to find. Dangerous, and I think it would be dangerous for us to ignore that.”

  “What do you want us to do with him?” the man asked.

  “Bring him inside.”

  Three people appeared, one on either side and one behind him. Fes resisted the urge to spin, but then, he wasn’t sure that he would be able to turn around. The same magic that had held him before seemed to grab him again, and as much as he wanted to move, he couldn’t, not well. His hand remained grasping the hilt of the sword, but even that did little to free him.

  What kind of magic did she have?

  The two on either side of him grabbed his arms, one of them prying his hand free from the sword, and they marched him into a small building. It was dark, with only a single lantern flickering with light, and they took him deeper into the darkness and down a narrow set of stairs, barely wide enough to go three across. The person behind him continue to press, and Fes had the sense that there was a sword poking into his back. He was helpless, a feeling he loathed.

  “Where is this?” Fes asked.

  No one answered, and they continued to guide him down the stairs. Each step brought him lower and lower below ground, and as he went, he began to suspect where they were leading him. He had been someplace like this before but hadn’t expected that the priests would use something like this.

  If he was right, then they were guiding him into a bunker, and one that once had been used for a much different purpose.

  And if he were right, without their assistance, he wouldn’t be able to escape.

  Chapter Six

  A massive room opened up at the bottom of the stair. Light spilled out, and the two people on either side of him brought him to a chair and let him go. Fes fell into the seat, looking around. The room was enormous, much larger than the buildings above, and he knew that though there would be other ways out, reaching them would be difficult. When he had been to one of these dragon bunkers before, he had nearly died, attacked by mercenaries.

  The old woman appeared and took a seat across from him. There was something almost regal in the way that she sat, her hands resting in her lap and her eyes focused on him. She watched him, seeming as if she intended to study him. He still couldn’t move, and they made no effort to disarm him. Then again, there was no purpose in disarming him. Even if he had a weapon, there wasn’t much that he could do to escape. Her magic held him in place in a way that nothing else ever had.

  “Why here?” he asked.

  “Here?” The woman looked around, her gaze scanning the room before falling back on Fes. “This is a place that even the empire has forgotten about. There are others of these scattered around, though most are abandoned.”

  “I know. And most don’t look from above as if they are a village.”

  “You’ve seen one of these dragon bunkers?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Unfortunately? These are a link to the past and a reminder of what we have been through. And these bunkers allow us to remain hidden, much as those who came before us were hidden, staying away from the dragons out of fear.”

  “They were used as a way to mount an offensive against the dragons,” Fes said. It was strange that she made no effort to prevent him from talking. At least now it didn’t feel as if she were trying to draw out his words, forcing him to share. Now that she knew about Jayell, it probably didn’t matter.

  “They were, though that was not their original intent.”

  “No?” Fes looked at the enormous room. When he had been in a similar place, he had been attacked by Reina the first time, and he barely survived. Others with the rebellion had not been so lucky. “I thought the earliest people of the empire used these bunkers as a way to avoid the dragon flame.”

  “Too many have forgotten what it was like in those early days,” she said. “The Priests of the Flame have made certain not to forget. We know what happened then, and we refused to allow it to happen again.”

  “You mean the dragon attack?”

  “Do you think that is the entire reason for us following the Path of the Flame?” She leaned toward him, and Fes could feel the power she was working, but it was different than what he felt when fire mages were using it. Whatever it was that she did was strange, though it did not seem to rely upon dragon relics. If it did, perhaps her way of reaching that magic was even greater than some of the fire mages he had encountered.

  “I thought the priests follow the path of the flame, trying to bring back dragons.”

  “Oh, we have.”

  “The dragons are gone. And now the dragon plains are empty.”

  “Empty?” She frowned as she watched him. “It is not possible to empty the dragon plains of all of the relics found there.”

  “It is when you have one of the Deshazl with you.”

  She breathed out slowly, pressing the tips of her fingers together. “The boy.”

  Fes nodded. “As far as I can tell, Azithan used him to remove the remaining artifacts from the dragon plains. Those that were in the Draconis Pass are no more.”

  “How is it that you know of these things?”

  “I’ve been there. There was a fire mage who thought to use those relics, and I was with others who reclaimed them.”

  “Talmund.”

  Fes tried not to react, but he doubted he was skilled enough to avoid revealing his surprise. “You know him.”

  “The Path of the Flame is not so wide that we aren’t aware of others who follow it.”

  “He’s not with you?”

  “He pursued a different path.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s not your place to understand.”

  Fes watched her and then tried to shrug, but his body still didn’t respond. “Regardless, when Azithan managed to secure the Deshazl boy, he used him to help reach the heart of the Draconis Pass. He removed the rest of the artifacts stored there.”

  “A true dragonwalker,” she breathed.

  Fes laughed bitterly. “Dragonwalker.”

  “You think that name is something to deride?”

  “I think that the ancient dragonwalkers were nothing but scavengers.”

  “And by that, you mean your ancestors.”

  Fes tens
ed. How much had she discovered about him? Could she have been aware of his attempt to resist her magic? He hadn’t been successful, so maybe it didn’t matter, but it still seemed as if she were aware of his attempt.

  “What ancestors?”

  She smiled at him. “You are Deshazl as well.” She smiled at him and spread her hands out on her lap. “You would like to hide it, but you have too much of that ancient bloodline stirring within you for you to be able to do so. Perhaps more than any other I have encountered.”

  “The boy was Deshazl.”

  “The boy had some tendency to Deshazl bloodline, but he would not have ever been considered a pureblood.”

  “How was he able to help Azithan reach the Draconis Pass if he didn’t have pure Deshazl blood?”

  “Azithan is not without power of his own,” she said. “And I imagine that together, they were able to reach it, to dispel the shadow of fog that has long hovered over the pass.”

  “It doesn’t hover over it anymore,” Fes said.

  How would she react to that news? Would it bother her? Or was there nothing to the fact that the fog that had once protected the pass was no more? He had a hard time determining how she might react. There was something strange about this priest, even more bizarre than when he’d traveled with Talmund.

  “The lands will be freed of that taint,” she said.

  “Taint? I thought you wanted to restore the dragons?”

  “The absence of dragons is the taint. They must return,” she said.

  “Then you really are like every other priest.”

  “How many priests have you met?”

  “Enough to know that most believe the dragons need to return, as if to have them overthrow the empire. As far as I can tell, the empire has done nothing more than use the dragon relics to maintain power. If it wasn’t the empire doing it, then someone else would take their place.”