Dragons of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 2)

by Janet Lane-Walters

  Lagon drew his knife and leaped forward. Arana swung the bar and knocked the knife from his hand. The gleaming metal flew through the air. Lagon pushed her. The young man charged. Lagon dashed past Drakon and Arana.

  “No,” a woman screamed. “Let him be. He is mine.” Bekla ran past the enemy pair.

  “Go back,” Lagon shouted. “Do not endanger my heir.” Lagon climbed on the wall. *Come. Come.” He overbalanced. In an attempt to recover his arms flailed.

  “No.” Bekla grabbed his legs.

  Lagon’s tunic was caught by a dragon’s claws. He and Bekla were lifted into the air. She screamed and clutched his legs. The cloth of his shirt tore. He looked up. The dragon was yellow not blue. Bekla tried to climb his legs. Her screams had dwindled to fear-filled whimpers. Something jarred the dragon. Lagon’s screams echoed Bekla’s as the dragon plunged toward the rocks.

  * * *

  Drakon pushed to his feet and raced to the wall. He reached it seconds after Bekla and Lagon swooped into the air and dangled from the Old One’s talons. He tried to grab Bekla’s legs but she kicked. Her screams flooded his senses.

  The Sea Cliff blue evaded Roja and Azure. It dove at the Old One and shredded one of his wings. Roja and Azure herded the blue toward the landing field. The Old one plunged out of control. Bekla and Lagon fell onto the rocks. The Old One crashed on them.

  *Old One,* Drakon called.

  *I live for a time. Come to the rocks so I can tell you what must be done.*

  Drakon turned from the wall and sought to understand what had happened here. He held his grief for the yellow dragon in a tightened fist. The Old One was not dead, yet. His feelings about Lagon’s and Bekla’s deaths brought both sadness and relief. Justice, not vengeance, he thought.

  Arana stood at his side. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Why?” Her voice broke.

  “We must go to him. He’s not dead yet. Is there a way to reach the rocks?” He clasped her hand.

  “There is.”

  “Then let us go.” Together they dashed down the stairs and pushed through the milling mob in the lower hall. Though one of the men tried to block their way, Drakon shoved him aside. “See to your dragons. Someone should tend the wounds of the Sea Cliff blue.”

  He and Arana emerged on the landing field. “This way.” Arana dashed to a narrow path leading to the rocks.

  The path hugged the cliff on one side. The other side was open to the rocks and the sea. There was a thin guide rope to help the walker. Salty spray slicked the stones making the path treacherous. Though Drakon wanted to run, he took each step carefully. *Old One, we are coming.*

  *I wait for your touch.*

  When Drakon reached the yellow dragon, the sight of the shredded wing caused him to draw a deep breath. Grief swirled with rage bringing chaos to his thoughts. He turned to Arana. “Can his wing be mended?”

  “I can try.”

  “My time is done. She cannot mend what is broken inside.*

  *What then? I don’t want to lose you.* Anguish colored Drakon’s voice.

  *The dragons and men of High Peals Tower are avenged. The evil one is gone. My lineage increases. Come closer and listen to what you must do.*

  Drakon placed his hands on the Old One’s side. He listened as the yellow explained how the land could be protected from the wizards.

  *If the harbor is blocked won’t they find another port?* Drakon asked.

  *On the entire coast this is the only bay with water deep enough for their ships.*

  “Won’t the people suffer if the traders can’t come?” Arana asked.

  *The evil one was the only person who benefited from the trade. The fishermen will still be able to make their catches. My sacrifice is needed.*

  *I don’t want you to die,* Drakon said.

  *Weep no tears for my passing. I have lived beyond my natural life span.*

  Arana placed her hands beside Drakon’s. “What of Lagon’s heir, the girl who is Drakon’s half-sister?”

  *She is gone. Taken by the wizards. Her voice on the speaker’s path grows distant.*

  *Can we rescue her?* Drakon asked. *Her blood is mine as well as Lagon’s.*

  *She has another destiny. The wizards will regret their choice. Now, this is what must be done for Sea Cliff and the other towers.*

  Drakon listened with interest. Though the toxins in the tea opened the speaker’s path the degree of intensity of the headaches told how strong the path was. *Interesting.*

  *Yes,* the Old One said. “For the Sea Cliff Tower, check the kin for one who has no tolerance for the tea.*

  “What if there is no one?” Arana asked.

  *There is one. I have sensed his fear for the blue and have heard his plea for caution.*

  Drakon felt a tightness in his chest. He sucked in a breath and felt no release. The tears the Old One had forbidden threatened to choke him. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t emerge. The yellow had guided him and brought hope. There was no way to return these gifts.

  “What if the other dragons and their speakers will not heed us?” Arana asked.

  *Verde comes.*

  *But the dragonets,* Drakon said.

  *Hatched this morning. Verde can stay here as long as two weeks. These dragonets will mature at a normal rate, not with the forced maturing of Roja and Azure. Their speakers know what to do.*

  Drakon released a held breath. *Old One knowing you has brought me joy and knowledge. I will remember and treasure every moment of our time together.* His voice broke. *You found a way to break the conditioning of the priestesses. Thanks to you I am whole. I will miss your council and your company.*

  Tears flowed down Arana’s cheeks. “Knowing you has been an honor. Let your spirit take flight.”

  *You are both strong speakers. Go and do what must be done.*

  Drakon kept his hands pressed against the Old One’s side until the great heart beat no more. He took Arana into his arms. Her tears soaked his tunic. He gulped deep breaths, but couldn’t stop the tears that flowed from his eyes. Time passed. He released Arana. “He was valiant and gave me hope.”

  “He brought an ending to the schemes of an evil man and a selfish woman.” Arana squeezed his hand. “Your mother died on these rocks.”

  “This is a fitting place for Lagon’s end. Come. There is much we must do before Verde arrives.” He led the way to the landing field. “How will we find the man who will become the speaker for the blue and the new lord of Sea Cliff Tower?”

  Arana paused. “Roja says he is in the pen with the blue and needs help treating the dragon’s wounds. He needs more ointment and linen.” She led him to the building where they had found the antidote for the tea. In a basket, she packed what was needed.

  “Will the dragon obey a new speaker, one who didn’t care for him from the day he cracked the shell?” Drakon asked.

  “Lagon wasn’t one to stay with a hungry dragonet. From what I heard the dragons here were raised by servants. There was no bonding as we have with ours. There were three dragon pairs here when Lagon became lord. He killed their speakers in duels. Two of the blues and two of the reds dove into the sea and drowned.”

  Drakon frowned. Was that the reason the Old One had decreed the site of his burial? Though the yellow’s instructions now made some sense, Drakon pondered how that would protect the land from the wizards.

  Arana led Drakon through the wide opening into the pens. Unlike the cavern, here each dragon had its own pen. Not even mates shared pens. Was this the way the place had been constructed, or had Lagon and his predecessors erected the walls to create cells? The pens were gloomy.

  “Here.” Arana waved to a man who tended the long claw marks on the blue dragon’s right side. “I’ve brought linen and ointments. I used to care for the dragons here.”

  The man smiled. “I remember you. I believe Sapphire will allow you to help. He is unhappy about his role in the death of the yellow.”

  “The fault wasn’t his
,” Drakon said. “He’s never lived under the control of a green.”

  Arana opened one of the jars and spread a thin coat of salve around the wounds on the dragon’s left side. As she worked, she crooned. The blue’s growls and hisses ceased.

  Drakon handed strips of linen to the man and to Arana. The flickering light did little to relieve the gloom and stuffiness of the pens. When they finished treating the wounds, the dragon moved to a feeding trough.

  Was this man the one the Old One had named as the new lord of the tower? “I am Drakon of High Peaks Tower. I have some questions for you.”

  “I am Zinon, near kin to Lagon, and have been acting as his steward. Few of his near or far kin remain alive. I have no tolerance for the tea so he spared my life. All potential speakers were killed and sold to the slavers.”

  “Then you must be the one.”

  Zinon frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I noticed you can care for the dragon. Are you speaking abilities non-existent or can you hear without the tea?”

  The man backed away. “I … I …”

  “If you can speak without the tea you are fortunate,” Arana said.

  Zinon halted. “The dragon hears me, but he fears obeying my orders. Lagon forced him to do many things he had no taste for. He killed the High Peaks blue and attacked the yellow.”

  Drakon nodded. “When he was under Lagon’s control he had no choice. The Old One had reached the end of his life and chose to attack Lagon. There is now a way to protect the dragons and our people from the wizards. Tell the blue his services will be needed to assist in the project. Let him know the yellow’s successor is on the way.”

  The look of concentration on Zinon’s face told Drakon the man spoke to the dragon. Though Azure could listen to the communication Drakon refrained from asking the blue to intrude. Unless invited to share a dialogue between a dragon and his speaker, the communication should be private. If only Verde, Azure, and Roja, would learn not to spy.

  Zinon opened his eyes. “He hears, but refuses to believe he will go unpunished. If his red wasn’t with egg he would dive into the sea.”

  “You must prevent that action.”

  *I come. I will tell him. He will listen to me. He must live until after there is at least one mating pair at Sea Cliff.*

  *Verde.* Arana and Drakon spoke as one.

  *Do not shout.*

  Drakon chuckled and thought of the times he’d said the same thing. *When will you arrive?*

  *Not until tomorrow. When I smell the sea I will tell you. I will be very, very hungry.*

  Drakon turned to Zinon. “Did you hear?”

  “Yes, and so did Sapphire. He will do as the controller asks.”

  Arana reached for Drakon’s hand. “We must tend to our dragons.” As they walked away, she smiled. “Can you believe he told us not to shout?”

  “I believe he’s growing up.”

  * * *

  In sadness and hope Verde landed on the field near the dragon pens where he had hatched. He missed the Old One’s voice telling him of the past and what to do in the present. The future loomed as a lonely time. He heaved a sigh. Not alone. Other greens would hatch and he would teach them all the Old One had taught him.

  *Old One I wish you were here to guide me.*

  You know all I knew.

  The voice was only the whisper of a ghost, but Verde would remember all he’d learned. The ancient yellow had dispensed the knowledge needed for Verde to become the prime controller of the dragons of Fyre.

  Verde’s talons struck the stone of the forecourt. He folded his wings. Arana and Drakon ran to him. He heard Azure and Roja shout greetings. The voices of four reds and four blues rose. On the babbled words he heard strains of sorrow and notes of hope.

  *I am here.*

  *Tell us about the dragonets.*

  *And how Radlan, Sofona, Tiron, and Cerene, fare,” Drakon added.

  *All are well. The dragonets are noise and demanding.* Verde sighed. “Escaping their hunger cries was welcome.*

  Arana laughed. * By the time we return they will make less fuss.*

  Verde lowered his head so the pair could stroke is nose. *We must do what the Old One ordered. As he was dying, he ordered me to put my sorrow aside.*

  Arana nodded. *As he told us, but it is hard.*

  *But more for Drakon. He knew the Old One longer.*

  *I know. About the things the Old One asked us to do, which should we do first?*

  *Call the four blues from the towers once ruled by the evil one. They will carry the rocks to the place where the dragons of Sea Cliff ended their lives rather than allow their pelts to be sold to the wizards. Once the rocks are in place, Roja, Azure, and I, will carry the Old One to his resting place.*

  *He died with honor,* Drakon said. *I would rather see him buried.*

  *That would not honor his wishes,* Verde said. *He had a reason for what he asked us to do.*

  While Verde called the blues to the landing field Arana spoke to the new lord of Sea Cliff Tower. He ordered the servants to place chains around four massive rocks that were part of the wall surrounding the landing field. Verde crouched so Drakon could remove the sacks he carried.

  Men wheeled barrows of meat for the dragons. Verde ate the contents of one and most of a second. *I was very, very hungry.*

  Arana laughed. *You had a long flight and no food.*

  *I ate. I killed a deer when I stopped to rest and then a wild pig. I ate all but the bones.* Verde sighed. *This food is meatier and the fish has an interesting taste.*

  Drakon joined Arana and Verde. *What now?*

  *Men must wrap nets around the Old One’s body so he is ready for us to carry.*

  *And then?* Drakon asked.

  *Talk to the speakers of the blues and learn if any of the men can speak without drinking the tea.*

  Drakon nodded. *The new lord of Sea Cliff can.*

  Arana turned to Drakon. “I will see to them while you arrange for the nets.” She walked into the pens and returned with three speakers. “Verde wants to know which of you can speak to your dragons without the tea.”

  Two of the young men raised their hands. The third, older by a few years, shook his head. “When Lagon came to my father’s tower and demanded the heir and a dragon pair to be brought to Sea Cliff, my father sent me. My twin, older by twenty minutes, remained. I drink the tea and link with my brother. He directs the dragon.”

  Arana frowned. “How can that be?”

  “As twins, my brother and I can speak mind to mind.”

  Verde coughed. *He must drink the tea and tell his brother what the blue must do. I will tell the four blue dragons where the stones must be dropped.*

  Arana passed the directions to the man. She sent one of the women to brew the tea.

  Before long, Drakon returned. “The nets are in place around the Old One. The rocks are ready for the blues to lift.”

  *Be prepared to ride Azure. Arana will ride Roja. The three who loved the Old One will see him to his final rest.*

  Arana and Drakon saddled their dragons. Verde directed the four blues to lift the rocks. He sent the directions through the speakers. After they were on the way to where a spit of stony rocks curved around the bay, he ordered Roja and Azure into the air.

  The two High Peaks dragons caught the net around the Old One in their claws and lifted the yellow from the rocks. They flew after the four blues.

  *Drop your rocks at the end of the spit of land,* Verde ordered. Then return to the tower.* Great spikes of water erupted. *Well done.*

  *Arana and Drakon, our goal is to drop the Old One into the space between the two sets of boulders.* He checked their position. *The time has come. Release and return to the tower.*

  *Sleep well, Old One.* Five voices cried the salute. As they flew toward Sea Cliff Tower first Verde, then Roja and Azure, trilled a series of notes.

  As though called by the sound a massive barrier of jagged rocks rose from the depths nearly e
nclosing the bay. Only the narrow fishing boats could make the passage. Sunlight glinted on the gray stone. Verde saw glints of red, blue, and green. Below the surface of the water jagged teeth of stone extended into the sea.

  *We have finished,* Verde cried. *Our duty to the Old One is almost complete. When we reach the landing field we will show the speakers how to make saddles. Then the blues and reds will return to their towers where speakers for the reds will be chosen. When the green eggs hatch, I will teach the dragonets.*

  *After this is done, what will we do?* Arana asked.

  *Go home.* Verde nearly laughed at the look Arana and Drakon exchanged. He knew what they planned to do, but he didn’t understand the need pulsing between them.

  * * *

  A week and three days after the barrier had been set Arana, Drakon, their dragons, and Verde, left for High Peaks Tower. The three dragon pairs had been sent to their towers with sacks of thorns and berries, enough to see the green dragonets through their hatching and to plant new bushes to replenish the fyrethorn hedges. Even the speaker who had to drink the tea had been able to make the trip since his brother could control the dragon through their twin bond.

  Arana thought about the four dragonets Verde would need to teach. *You’ll be busy. I hope the eggs don’t hatch at the same time.*

  *The Old One said they would not. Even if they do, I will manage for I am strong and know what they must be taught.*

  They stopped at dusk and made camp. The three dragons ate most of the deer Azure had caught. Arana and Drakon cooked some of the meat for their meal. In the morning they continued their journey. Just before sunset Arana spotted the tower. The stones flashed with glints of gold and silver.

  “Home,” Drakon shouted. He edged his dragon closer to Roja. “A bath in the cavern pool and a night in our own bed.”