Chaos Awakens (Dragons of the Nether Book 1)

by Megg Jensen

"Syra is not your enemy." Alyna's eyes darkened as she looked toward the south. "The humans are, and I fear you aren't taking them as seriously as you should."

  "If the general is right—”

  "He's not," Alyna interrupted. "They are coming with forces you cannot contemplate."

  Vron sighed and sat on a downed log. "If the humans have forces capable of destroying an orc army, why haven't our scouts reported on it? Why haven't they attacked before now? Why haven't they taken the Barrier Mountains, forcing us to stay out of their lands, instead of the other way around?"

  "I don't know the answer." Alyna set down the wide brush, patted the unicorn, and sat next to Vron on the log. Her long, down-covered legs stuck out, her hooves resting comfortably on the dirt.

  "We should reach the mountain pass by nightfall," Vron said. "Perhaps we'll know more then. Or perhaps they'll see our army come to meet them and head home, where they belong."

  "It won't be that easy." Alyna rested a hand on Vron's arm, barely covering his bicep.

  "I know it won't." Vron looked at her, weary. As much as he wanted to believe this mission was as simple as Dalgron thought, he'd be fooling himself. Alyna wouldn't ever let him do that. She was too practical, too honest.

  As the camp stirred to life, Vron stood. He plastered a smile on his face for the soldiers waving at him as they made their way to the hearth. The young orc who'd served him was now hurriedly scooping porridge into bowls for the new arrivals.

  Vron waved Alyna to follow him back into the tent. After she had closed the flap, Vron lit the candles on the table that sat between their cots. He unfurled the map, setting rocks on each corner to keep it from rolling back up.

  "This is the pass." Vron pointed with one thick finger. "We're here." He pointed with the other hand.

  "We're not far away. I could have told you that without looking at the map." Alyna indicated with one delicate finger at another point in the mountains. "This is how I came through."

  "What?" Vron's looked at her, his mouth agape. "That's impossible."

  "No, it's not. I rode Syra through the forest and up the foothills. There's another, much smaller, pass here." Alyna tapped the map. "I didn't have to get past any orc guards. Just because I didn't take the road doesn't mean there's not another way through. It's not as if you have a wall built between the two nations."

  "I know that, but the forest is thick. It's impassable."

  "For orcs, maybe. Fauns and humans are much smaller."

  Vron thrust his fist on the map, jostling the rocks off the table. "Why didn't we think of that?" He cursed in orcish.

  "That's why I came to warn you." Alyna's tone was stern. "Orcs are mighty, brave fighters, but you haven't had much experience with a cunning race like the humans."

  "Why did you wait until now to mention this? Why not when we were with Dalgron?" Anger roiled in Vron's chest.

  "Would he have listened?"

  Vron knew the answer as well as Alyna did. Dalgron would have sent Vron out on the same mission with the same inexperienced orcs.

  "What should we do?" he asked.

  "We should be aware, ready to fight at any moment. Even if they do come through the forest as I did, they cannot come in one large group without attracting a great amount of attention. In fact, I think it more likely they will send spies into the forest to watch us and report back." Alyna looked at Vron, her face sad. "I don't like leading anyone to their death, but in this case, I think I should be your counterspy. I will head into the forest, posing as a human, and prove my theory."

  Vron set his hand on hers. He hesitated, knowing he was about to say something he'd regret. "No. It's too dangerous. Let me protect you."

  A storm passed through Alyna's eyes. "I told you I don't need protection. Not from you. Not from anyone. I can take care of myself." She pulled her hand out from underneath his.

  Vron didn't offer any resistance. Alyna would make her own choices, as she always had, but he wasn't too proud to keep his feelings to himself. "I can't lose you again."

  "Then stop trying to force me to be something I'm not. I'll report back to you by nightfall." Alyna grabbed her pack, flung it over her shoulder, and stormed out of the tent.

  Vron sank onto his cot, frustrated. There was something about that faun that brought out the worst in him.

  Chapter 18

  Damor lounged in the shade of his palanquin, fanning himself slowly. One day he would have more slaves than Gashta and Nishta. They would fan him, allowing him to apply what little energy he had toward defeating their enemies. Without proper rest and meditation, Damor wasn't at his peak. If he wanted to prove to the queen he was worthy of her, he needed every iota of internal strength he could muster.

  Damor fanned faster, but he couldn't keep up with the beads of sweat forming on his brow.

  "Damn it! I thought it was supposed to get cooler as we traveled north, not warmer!" Damor threw his fan.

  It flew between the curtains, hitting someone outside who muttered, "Oof."

  Nishta parted the curtain, offering the fan to Damor, as she squinted her left eye. When he took the fan, she rubbed her eye, then backed away, letting the curtain fall behind her.

  He had no sympathy for the stupid orc. She was his slave. His property.

  Damor settled back into the embroidered pillows, placing the fan at his side. He had no more time for cooling down. He suspected the effort of fanning was only producing the sweat anyway.

  Closing his eyes, Damor reached out with his mind, checking, as he did five times a day, for other magic users in the vicinity. There were a few in the army who had the potential, but none of them were aware of their powers. Damor wasn't about to tell them. The last thing he needed was competition.

  Ignoring the few souls he regularly located, Damor reached out further, widening his circle with every breath. It spread slowly across the ether, coming up empty as it always did.

  Damor inhaled once more, satisfied that once again he'd found nothing.

  On his exhalation, he felt a slight tremor in the outer circle of his magical net. Focusing all of his attention on the troubling area, Damor reached out with his mind, only to find an empty place in the ether.

  Something, or someone, had erected a shield to the north.

  He sat up, struggling to support himself. Every day he felt weaker, despite resting as much as he could.

  "Get me a map!" he screamed to the orcs.

  Thundering footsteps retreated from the palanquin. Good. At least one of them had been paying attention.

  "What is it?" Gashta stuck her ugly orc face through the curtains.

  "I require a map, and that is all you need to know." Damor slapped her nose. After she had left, he wiped his hand on one of the bottom blankets. He'd touched an orc. Disgusting. Still, she needed to be taught a lesson. She shouldn't have forced her ugly face into his palanquin without permission.

  Damor waited impatiently for Nishta to return with a map, fighting the urge to seek out the empty space again. Instead, he focused on the symbol printed on a pillow at the far end of the palanquin. He noticed nothing but the triangle with the three squiggly lines breaking its sides. He centered himself, feeling his well of power fill again.

  He would need every mote of magic he could muster to find the other magic user.

  "Sir?" a timid voice called from outside.

  Damor parted the curtains with one long fingernail. "Do you have the map?"

  "Yes, sir."

  Damor peeked out. A child stood before him, sandy hair flopped over its eyes. A boy? A girl? It mattered not.

  "Thank you. Won't you come in?" Damor beckoned, as a diabolical plan took root.

  The child trembled, which didn't surprise or upset Damor. He knew the children of Soleth feared him. They should. The stories their parents told them were all true.

  "Nishta! Help the child into my palanquin!" Damor ordered the orc.

  A moment later, the human child sat in front of him, legs crossed, ha
nds trembling.

  "What's your name?" Damor asked.

  "Sally."

  "Can I have the map, please?" Damor attempted a smile, and the child recoiled with fear at the sight of his mangled, blackened teeth.

  She held the map out toward him, quivering. Damor snatched it away. The child was in his grasp now. He no longer had to make nice.

  Damor unfurled the map. He found the army's current position, then scanned to the north, only finding a forest on both sides of the pass. So, someone with great power was traversing the forest instead of coming directly through the pass. Interesting. It would be someone familiar with the ways of the forest.

  Damor cast his mind out again, quickly snapping back when he located the source of the magic. It had moved south into the Tingale Forest. Closer to the Soleth army. Closer to Damor.

  He couldn't allow it.

  Damor leaned toward Sally. "I need a favor from you."

  "I have to get back to my papa. I promised." Sally's lower lip trembled.

  "Your papa serves Sornal, as do I." Damor reached out, grasping her shoulder. "He would be proud to know you are aiding in our cause and helping our god."

  Sally shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  "Now, now, I'm not going to hurt you. Hold still." Damor inched closer to Sally's face. He stuck out his red, slightly forked tongue, licking the salty tears from her cheeks.

  Sally pushed him away, her tears now a flood.

  Damor cackled as he pulled back. He didn't need the extra tears, just the first few—the ones formed solely from fear.

  "I want to leave," Sally demanded, suddenly becoming brave.

  Perhaps she knew she had the strength to overtake Damor physically now.

  "No," Damor said. The interior of the palanquin darkened as his magic took over. "You serve me now. You will do as I say if you want to live."

  Sally tried to open her mouth but found her lips were sewn together. Her hands scratched at her face, the tears now mingling with blood.

  "As I promised, I won't hurt you. But if you fight, you will hurt yourself."

  Sally's hands shook as they slowly fell into her lap.

  "You will exit the palanquin. You will kill the evil orc who threatens us. I will guide you to them. Can you do that?" Damor asked.

  Sally shook her head.

  "Of course. A sweet child like yourself has never killed before, have you?" Damor stroked her hair with his bony hand.

  Sally shook her head again, her eyes widening with terror.

  "All you need to do is touch the person you see. That's not so hard, is it?"

  Sally's chin trembled. Snot dripped from her nose.

  "I've given you all the power you need, my dear. Just touch the person. That's all you must do. Now go. Run! Find them!" Damor gave Sally a small push toward the curtains.

  Not wasting the chance to escape, Sally scrambled out of the palanquin on all fours. Damor's vision suddenly shifted from his own eyes to the girl's. He’d used his magic to transport her to the North, toward the source of the magic, while he remained safe in his palanquin.

  Limbs slapped her in the face as she ran through the forest, desperate to find her father. Instead, Damor gently guided her toward his prey.

  Sally’s tears flowed through his body, heightening the magic. Her innocence and youth gave a vigor to his magic he hadn't felt in the many years since his physical health had declined. He was more powerful than he'd ever been. But it wouldn't last long. The tears would eventually break down, leaving him with only his own power.

  Damor took control of the girl's limbs, forcing her toward the unnamed source of magic in the forest.

  "Closer, closer," Damor muttered as the little girl ran at full speed in the direction he chose.

  Her eyes focused on a form ahead in the forest. A tall woman in a long dress of velvet, with a mass of red curls and a kind face. Damor didn't recognize her, but he hated her immediately. A human, coming from the orcs to the North, likely betraying her own people. His power would be enough to kill her instantly. No one was stronger in magic than he.

  "Is someone out there?" she called, her melodic voice twinkling through the forest.

  Sally broke through the trees, stopping in front of the woman, who knelt down to Sally's level.

  "Are you lost?" the woman asked.

  Sally stared at her, reaching out with one small finger.

  Damor trembled at the power in Sally's finger. He directed all of his energy toward that tiny, delicate patch of skin. Sally only had to touch the woman in the forest and the threat would be eliminated.

  "Do you need help?"

  Sally nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks again. This time blood poured forth from her eyes as well, as she fought Damor's power.

  No! He redoubled his efforts, forcing her forward.

  With one final thrust, Sally lunged toward the woman, touching her cheek.

  Shock swept across the woman's face as she fell backward. Her dress crumpled up around her feet. Wait, not feet! Hooves! What was she?

  Sally collapsed, and Damor lost all control over the girl. His eyes snapped open. He was still in his palanquin, the child gone, the map lying askew across his legs.

  Damor's hands balled, his nails digging into his skin. Blood, his blood, spurted from the wounds.

  "It's all right. She's dead. One touch triggers the magic and kills them both," he told himself over and over again until he passed into a deep sleep, exhausted from his efforts.

  Chapter 19

  Vron sat on a rock outside his tent, focused on the forest just beyond their camp. Alyna had left the day before and never returned, despite saying she’d check in by nightfall. He vacillated between worry and trust. She could take care of herself. He knew that to his core. Still, he worried.

  Alyna had chosen to protect the orcs over the humans, despite being part human herself. Her gifts of magic were theirs to wield, as long as she continued to help them. He knew she'd never double-cross them. Lying was against her nature.

  Still, he wished she were back in camp, safe, with the intelligence she'd insisted on gathering. If she'd been right, and the humans were planning to come through the forest instead of the mountain pass, then perhaps she'd been ambushed. Injured. Killed.

  "Commander," a young orc called.

  Vron pulled himself to his feet. "Yes, Anthea?"

  She stood strong, a club in her right hand. "Are we preparing to advance on the pass today? The other troops are anxious to show their mettle in battle. Few of us have been tried, but we are ready to show the humans what glory looks like!” With her free hand, she beat her chest once, a grin on her face.

  Vron remembered when he was an eager young soldier before he knew the brutality of battle. Anthea was right; the orcs would have no trouble defeating the human army. But there would be no honor in it. Humans were weak, easily broken. He wanted to test out some of his battle theory, but there had been no time to train his soldiers. The order had been given, and the next day they were on the march.

  "We will advance soon," Vron answered. Anthea had stuck out to him on the first day of their journey. Strong, eager, and smart, she would make a fine commander someday. One day she would look back on this assignment and feel embarrassed. Though perhaps, deep down, she would also remember the pride she felt at being chosen. They all had to start somewhere.

  "Thank you, sir. We await your command!" Anthea bowed, then made her way back to the troops breaking their fast.

  Vron glanced out at the forest again. The trees were still in the quiet morning. Not a rustle to be heard. A squirrel chattered at him from a branch, a scrap of food between its paws.

  Vron stretched his legs, joining his troops at the fire. Anthea scooted over, making room for him on a downed tree trunk. Another soldier handed him a bowl of porridge.

  "A scout returned not long ago," the soldier said.

  Vron held up a hand. "First, tell me your name. I haven't had time to learn all o
f them. For this, I apologize. I will do my best." Vron knew it was in his best interests to get to know his troops.

  "Reggin, sir."

  "Please continue, Reggin."

  The young orc, his tusks small and dull like a child’s, continued. "Our scout has returned from the pass. With a spyglass, the guards can see the humans in the distance. They've camped on both sides of the road leading to the pass. They appear to be preparing for war, sharpening their swords and crafting new arrows. It appears they plan to attack first with a volley of arrows."

  The ground shook with the orcs' laughter.

  "Arrows will do them no good on the pass. If they wish to get through, they will need to engage us. But they are too afraid!" Anthea raised her club, pretending to bonk a human over the head with it. "We will wait here until they piss their pants and run back to the South crying."

  Vron smiled, but it was mostly for show. He worried more with every passing moment. Something was wrong, something even more than Alyna's long absence, but he couldn't put a finger on what it was.

  A rustling from the forest grabbed his attention. Before anyone else could stand, Vron bolted for the edge of the forest, expecting to see Alyna's red hair. Instead, a small human child cowered behind a bush. Tears streamed down its face, its eyes red and lips swollen from crying.

  "A child?!" someone behind him yelled. "They sent a child? I will show humans what we think of cowards who send children in place of adults!"

  Vron whipped out an arm, knocking the orc backward. He kept his eyes locked on the child.

  "Who are you?" he asked.

  The child trembled. Of course. It couldn't understand him. Even if they'd spoken the same language, human speech was so soft, so languid, while the orcs spoke from the depths of their throat. The child would think Vron was threatening it. He'd have to communicate another way.

  Vron knelt, reaching out with an open hand. He cocked his fingers, hoping the child would know it was safe to come to him.

  "What are you doing, commander?" Anthea asked, coming up from behind. "It could be a trap."

  "Stand back. Let me handle this. If something happens to me, you're in charge." Vron didn't need to see Anthea to know her chest puffed up at the honor.