Cursed Bones (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Five)

by David A. Wells

  The other, seeing Magda struggling to defend against its companion, turned its attention to Anatoly, leaping into the air, gaining altitude with a single downward thrust of its wings before descending toward the helpless man-at-arms.

  Magda swung her magical sword, severing the creature’s foot just above the ankle. It shrieked in pain, thrusting with its wings, lifting it well out of Magda’s sword range. She stumbled to her feet, turning toward Anatoly, helpless to defend him against the beast as it plummeted toward him, one taloned foot aiming for his unprotected head.

  Then Ixabrax stirred, opening one eye and taking in the situation unfurling around him in a blink. His tail shot out, striking the descending creature in the chest, impaling it and driving his bone blade two feet into the stone wall with the force of the strike. The half-man, half-dragon slumped forward, pinned to the wall.

  The last of the creatures, wounded and alone, turned and fled toward the cave entrance. Magda dropped her sword, the blue force fading before it reached the ground, and started casting another spell. Her rage was complete and her determination resolute. She raised her hand and released a light-lance. Brilliant light flooded the cave, dancing on the ice in dazzling fashion before striking the creature full in the back and burning a hole the size of a man’s head through its chest. It crashed to the ground.

  Ixabrax casually brought the intruder impaled on his tail to his mouth and slowly chewed it before swallowing.

  Magda went to Anatoly and began casting another spell, this one creating a number of glowing orbs bobbling about him, each radiating gentle warmth. His teeth began to chatter and he started to shiver violently.

  Magda retrieved their blankets and laid them out beside him, then helped him roll onto the hasty bedroll to protect him from the cold of the frozen ground while the warmth of her spell soaked into him.

  “Seems Zuhl has found us,” Ixabrax said, as he stood and stretched, inspecting the now healed gashes along his flank. “At least your magic worked. I believe I’m fit for flight.”

  “We’ll leave as soon as Master Grace has recovered,” Magda said.

  “As you wish,” Ixabrax said, casually picking up the first of the creatures to fall and eating it.

  “What are those things, anyway?” Magda asked.

  “They’re an abomination,” Ixabrax said. “Zuhl has crossed a man with a dragon to create a creature that should not be. He calls them drakini. They’re sterile, completely devoted to him, and none-too-bright. Even worse, they don’t taste very good, but they will sustain me until I can find a more suitable meal.” His tail darted out into the cave, stabbing the last of the three and bringing it to his mouth where it quickly disappeared.

  “I haven’t eaten in over a week,” Ixabrax said. “I hope my … table manners don’t offend you.”

  “Not in the least, Dragon,” Magda said. “Can you tell me how many of these drakini Zuhl has in his service?”

  “Probably hundreds. He’s been breeding them for centuries. As I understand it, they don’t always survive the birthing process and then they’re slow to mature, many developing abnormalities that ultimately result in death, but some are successful. Once mature, they age as slowly as a dragon and only grow stronger with each passing year.”

  “Do they have any vulnerabilities that we can exploit?” Magda asked.

  “Fire and heat,” Ixabrax said. “They are immune to cold, even my breath would have no effect on them, but they fear fire. Their scales act as armor, protecting them against most attacks unless the weapon is wielded with great force or imbued with magic.”

  “Delightful,” Magda said. “Has Zuhl created any other abominations we should be aware of?”

  “His clergy,” Ixabrax said.

  Magda frowned.

  “After he captured my sire and dam, he began to circulate the story that he is the dragon god, worshipped by dragons and therefore surely worthy of human devotion. As a reward for his most devout adherents, he provides our blood to drink in ceremonial rites of passage. He calls these servants his priests and priestesses. They begin to take on some of the characteristics of the dragons whose blood they’ve consumed, a blue tinge to their skin, sharper features, talons, and catlike eyes.

  “Most noteworthy is the access to the firmament they gain as a result. His clergy are capable of wielding potent magic but of a limited scope. They can create a wide variety of cold-based effects and many are capable of causing their skin to scale over for a limited time, rendering them virtually immune to normal weapons. Some few of the more advanced can actually transform themselves into the form of a dragon, though smaller and weaker than any true dragon.”

  “Well, he’s just full of surprises, isn’t he?” Anatoly said.

  “How are you feeling?” Magda asked.

  “Cold and irritated,” he said, sitting up and scrutinizing one of the glowing orbs bobbling around him.

  “For warmth,” Magda said.

  “Huh,” he said, struggling to his feet. “When do we leave?”

  “Once you’ve fully recovered,” Magda said.

  “I’m well enough.”

  “I suspect the journey will be a cold one,” Magda said. “Perhaps you should take more time to warm yourself.”

  Anatoly frowned but nodded as he began unbuckling his breastplate. “I’ll never get warm with this thing on.”

  “Your armor is made from the scales of a dragon,” Ixabrax said, his eyes narrowing.

  “Yep, one that died during the Reishi War,” Anatoly said, ignoring the suspicious look. “We found quite a few scales in Blackstone Keep. Mage Gamaliel used them to fashion several suits of armor such as this one.”

  Ixabrax sniffed him. “Scales from a bronze dragon. Those that remain alive can be found in the high mountains on the east coast of Ruatha.”

  Anatoly nodded. “Right again. I met Lady Tanis last summer. She’s magnificent and terrifying all at once. Unfortunately, she wanted no part of our fight with Phane or Zuhl.”

  “No, I don’t imagine she did,” Ixabrax said.

  “I’m not sure our enemies will be as understanding as we are,” Anatoly said.

  “Challenging Tanis in her domain would be … unwise,” Ixabrax said.

  “Yeah, I got that too,” Anatoly said. “But I’m not convinced wisdom is the driving force behind either Zuhl or Phane.”

  Ixabrax chuckled, a deep rumble emanating from his enormous chest. “I suppose you’re right about that. Hopefully, Zuhl will learn the folly of his lack of wisdom, and soon.”

  After drinking a cup of hot tea prepared over an oil lamp, Anatoly strapped his armor on and hoisted his pack.

  “I’m as ready as I’m going to be,” he said.

  “Very well,” Ixabrax said, lowering his neck to the ground. “Climb up and sit between my spikes. Hold on tight, I wouldn’t want to lose you before I’ve freed my family.”

  “Your concern is touching,” Anatoly said, offering his hand to help Magda onto the dragon’s neck.

  Ixabrax was unable to unfurl his wings in the narrow chasm, so he climbed the side of the ice cliff to the surface, a harrowing experience for Anatoly and Magda. Once he reached the glacier, he spread his wings and tested them with a few flaps.

  “You spoke of an easy meal nearby,” he said, looking back at his two riders.

  “I’ll guide you from the air,” Magda said.

  “Very well.” Ixabrax crouched down and launched, springing scores of feet over the glacier before thrusting down with his wings and propelling them higher still.

  Magda laughed with glee. Anatoly held on for his life, trying not to look down while the dragon gained altitude. Within minutes they landed in the field of dead that had been left in the wake of Magda’s reverse-gravity spell.

  Ixabrax sniffed at his meal and frowned.

  “Perhaps you could remove their armor, it tends to unsettle my stomach,” he said.

  Anatoly looked at Magda incredulously. She shrugged with a wry smile an
d they went to work, stripping the men of their belongings before Ixabrax ate them one by one.

  “I don’t actually prefer humans,” he said, chewing, “but you’ll do in a pinch.”

  “I suppose that’s good to know,” Anatoly said, dumping the contents of one man’s pouch onto the frozen ground. “Hey, what’s this?” he asked, holding up a vial of slightly blue liquid.

  Magda frowned, shrugging and looking to Ixabrax.

  “Dragon draught,” he said. “It’s made from the filings of dragon scales. When consumed, it will render you virtually immune from the effects of the cold for several hours.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Anatoly said, working the stopper loose and drinking half of it before handing the vial to Magda. She quaffed the rest.

  “Perhaps others are carrying more,” she said.

  Anatoly nodded and went to work searching the men more thoroughly as he removed their armor and weapons, piling them to one side. He found five more vials of dragon draught.

  Once they’d finished searching the dead, and Ixabrax had eaten his fill, Magda cast a spell over the pile of equipment. A dagger began to glow softly.

  “Ah, this might be useful,” she said, retrieving the well-made blade and attaching it to her belt.

  “What’s it do?” Anatoly asked.

  She shrugged. “I’d have to cast many more spells to determine the effect of its enchantment … or I could simply stab someone with it.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, chuckling. “Are we ready?”

  Ixabrax belched, the noise reverberating down the narrow canyon.

  “It’s nearly nightfall,” the dragon said. “We should attack soon.”

  Alexander appeared in their midst.

  Ixabrax reared back, slightly startled.

  “Sounds like you’re ready to go,” he said.

  “Indeed, Human,” Ixabrax said. “You have a habit of appearing from nowhere.”

  “I’ve been watching and gathering information,” Alexander said.

  “I don’t pretend to understand the scope of your wizardry, but I’ll accept your guidance … for now,” Ixabrax said.

  “Good,” Alexander said, motioning to a small patch of empty ground. An image of Whitehall appeared. “I’ve been working on this all day. At first I couldn’t even make a ball of light appear but I find the more I use my illusion magic the more capable I become, though I’m still fairly limited in duration so I’ll make this quick.”

  He pointed to a tower near the middle of the sprawling marble fortress. “Abigail is in the topmost room of this tower,” he said. “Breach the wall here on the north side. Make sure you hit it from this side only. If you strike from a different angle you could hurt her. She’ll be hiding behind some furniture and ready to go when you get there.”

  “Understood,” Anatoly said. “Once we have her, then what?”

  “Retreat into the wilds and hide while we formulate a plan to free Ixabrax’s family,” Alexander said. “I haven’t had time yet to scout their aerie or the surrounding defenses. Besides, Abigail’s going to need some time to get her bearings.”

  Ixabrax eyed him suspiciously.

  “Do not consider reneging on your word, Human,” he said.

  “Not a chance, Dragon,” Alexander said. “Freeing your family will hurt Zuhl’s military capability more than anything else … and it also happens to be the right thing to do. Your enslavement is a profound violation of the Old Law and I intend to set it right.”

  “We shall see,” Ixabrax said.

  “Given your experience with Zuhl, your suspicions are understandable but unnecessary,” Alexander said. “It’s nearly dark … you should begin your attack soon. Once you have Abigail, I’ll lead you to an empty cave farther north where you can rest and prepare for the next strike.”

  He faded from view as Anatoly and Magda climbed onto the dragon’s back.

  Chapter 21

  Abigail was pacing. The sun had just slipped past the horizon on the last day before the winter solstice. Tomorrow was the day Zuhl would perform his yearly sacrifice, giving over her life to the darkness in exchange for another year of life without aging.

  She knew Alexander was working on her rescue. She trusted her brother to do everything within his power. What she wasn’t sure about was whether he would be able to help her. He was so far away with only his newly discovered and untested magic at his disposal.

  “Hi, Abby.”

  She spun around at hearing the familiar voice.

  “Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?” she said.

  Alexander shrugged. “I had to make some preparations.”

  “Not to sound ungrateful, but Zuhl’s going to sacrifice me tomorrow,” Abigail said. “Any chance you have a plan to get me out of here before then?”

  “They’re coming right now,” Alexander said. “Push your bed over to the south side of the room, then tip it over and hide behind it. Hurry, you don’t have much time.”

  “Now you tell me,” Abigail said, going to work on moving the bed. As she shoved it into place, she heard the muffled roar of a drakini from outside her tower. Moments later the temperature of the room fell precipitously, ice forming on the northern wall. She glanced back before turning her bed over and scurrying around behind it.

  Seconds later the frozen wall shattered, sending stones flying across the room in every direction and opening the tower to the sky. A horn sounded in the distance and was immediately answered by another. The alarm had been raised.

  Ixabrax landed on the breach, extending his head into the room as the door was thrown open and guards started to enter. The first man to cross the threshold stopped in his tracks and stared at Ixabrax eyeing him from a distance of only a few feet. He backed away slowly.

  “Abigail!” Anatoly shouted from his perch on the dragon’s neck. “Hurry!”

  She was up and running in a blink. Anatoly caught her outstretched hand and hoisted her onto the dragon. Two drakini flew behind them, both breathing frost that fell harmlessly on Magda’s shield.

  “Go!” Anatoly shouted as soon as Abigail was seated between two of Ixabrax’s back spikes.

  When the dragon launched into the sky, two drakini attacked, attempting to tear his wing membranes. Ixabrax tucked his wings in and fell into a steep dive toward the battlements, freeing himself of the drakini and forcing them to break off or risk plummeting to the ground. At the last moment, Ixabrax pulled up hard and turned north.

  Abigail felt the crushing pull of gravity as Ixabrax thrust against the air to gain altitude. Behind them, a number of drakini were taking flight in pursuit. Farther behind, the roar of a dragon echoed from the battlements.

  “My sire,” Ixabrax said.

  Abigail would never have believed that she might hear a hint of fear in a dragon’s voice.

  “Fly north,” Anatoly said. “Head for the cave where we found you.”

  Ixabrax adjusted course without a word.

  While Magda was focused on casting a spell, Anatoly handed Abigail the Thinblade. She looked at him with a fierce smile, then slipped her hand through the thong on the hilt and strapped the belt around her waist.

  A dozen or more drakini were in pursuit, but they couldn’t keep up with Ixabrax. The other dragon could, however. Abigail looked back and saw a blue dragon almost half again as big as Ixabrax flying higher and faster, gaining on them with every stroke of its enormous wings. Riding atop the terrifying beast was Zuhl, although Abigail was certain it wasn’t the real Zuhl but another simulacrum. She suspected that the reclusive mage hadn’t actually set foot outside of Whitehall in centuries.

  Zuhl released a spell, sending a shard of ice six feet long and a foot thick toward them with frightening speed. It struck Magda’s shield with such force that it exploded, sending splinters of ice in every direction and collapsing her shield in the process but harming no one.

  She finished her spell a moment later. Dozens of blue orbs appeared nearby, floating ar
ound Ixabrax in a dizzying array of erratic orbits.

  Zuhl sent another shard of ice at them but one of Magda’s orbs broke off from its orbit, streaking toward Zuhl’s spell and meeting it in the open sky, shattering it into powder.

  Ixabrax narrowly dodged a jagged mountain ridge before diving sharply to evade the onslaught from above. Zuhl unleashed another spell, or possibly expended some enchanted item, tossing a stone into the air and pointing toward Ixabrax. When the stone reached its apex, it burst into dozens of crystalline splinters, exploding in all directions before arcing toward Ixabrax, each trailing a streamer of unnatural black smoke.

  Magda’s protective orbs rose to the defense, streaking toward the incoming barrage of missiles, each orb targeting a stone splinter with unerring precision and shattering it into powder … but there weren’t enough orbs.

  The rain of missiles crashed into Ixabrax, several punching through his wings, leaving tattered holes in the flesh membrane stretching between the bone struts, several more glancing off his scales. Two struck Anatoly in the back, shattering against his dragon-plate armor as he hunched over Abigail to protect her from the sudden attack. One pierced Magda’s shoulder, driving cleanly through her body and ricocheting off Ixabrax’s scales, trailing a streamer of blood in its wake. She gasped in startled agony, losing the focus necessary to finish the spell she’d begun casting.

  Ixabrax dove for the chasm, narrowly escaping the unnaturally cold breath of his own sire as he crashed into the opposite wall of the rift in the glacier and fell, slowing his descent with a combination of his unfurled wings and claws against the frozen wall, creating a spray of powdered ice that served to both obscure their position and lower the temperature even further.

  Abigail held on for dear life, the cold penetrating into her bones, her lips and knuckles turning blue while her mind raced, formulating a strategy to defend against the coming assault.