by D K Drake
Vasilis snorted a puff of smoke in Javan’s direction, then began making slow circles above the people in Stalker Square while awaiting his master’s command to commence his meal.
“You?” The outrage in Omri’s voice disappeared, and he resumed his relaxed demeanor. “Why, you are too young to know the significance of what happens when you touch that column.” He stretched his hand and waved it over the crowd. “Many people are here today. One of them must have bumped you into the column. You may apologize to the people for your unfortunate accident and for stalling the justice that awaits Esmeralda.”
The commanding tone of Omri’s voice was unmistakable. Javan wanted to back down and follow the king’s admonition to apologize. That sure was easier than standing his ground and risking becoming part of the Noon Stalker’s next meal. But if he caved, his mother would die.
“I cannot apologize because it was not an accident.” Javan stepped forward and took his hat off. “I am Javan from the Collector Bloodline. I came here today to enter the Battle for the Throne.”
As one, the people sucked in a breath of shock and held it as they awaited Omri’s response. Even the dragons joined the breathless silence.
Omri crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “No one has dared challenge me in 400 years.”
“I am not challenging you, sir.” Javan felt his voice begin to falter and had to work to make it sound strong and steady. He took a deep breath and made himself say his well-rehearsed words. “I am simply acting in willing obedience to the Laws of the Land. Your justice demands I be allowed to compete in the Battle for the Throne.”
“Wait,” Micah said, walking over to stand beside Omri, “you look familiar.”
“That’s because we have met before,” Javan said. Apparently Micah beat up so many people he didn’t remember them all.
“We have?”
“You have?” Omri asked.
“Yes.” Javan nodded toward Esmeralda. “On the day she opened the portal. I was with her when you captured her. If you had given her a chance to explain, you would have learned she was trying to send me to earth so I would not enter the Battle for the Throne. She was acting in King Omri’s best interest and should be released.”
“Micah, explain.” Omri turned his wrath on Micah. “Why was this rebel not arrested?”
“Esmeralda was the known rebel; he, umm, didn’t seem important.”
“Well, clearly he is a problem that needs to be dealt with.” Omri slapped Micah’s face. “You are no longer my son. Now, soldier, arrest that rebel.”
Javan almost felt sorry for Micah as he bowed his head, rubbed his cheek and headed for the stairs. All pity washed away, however, when Javan remembered Micah was on his way to arrest him.
“You cannot arrest me,” Javan said. Even though Omri was reacting just as Ravier had predicted, Javan still didn’t like the prospect of being arrested. He took a deep breath and made himself say the words he had rehearsed that would set Ravier up for his speech. “I am a competitor in the Battle for the Throne. The law which you so nobly uphold allows me the freedom to compete without fear of infringement from the current ruler.”
“He is right, King Omri.” Ravier’s bold declaration drew all attention in his direction. He zipped up the staircase to the stage, blocking Micah’s descent. With all eyes on him, he began reading from the parchment he had smuggled in under his hat. “According to the Law of the Land, ‘A Battle for the Throne shall determine who rules Zandador. The Battle shall take place in the final year of a ruler’s 100-year-reign. A person from any one of the four Bloodlines—except for the reigning king or queen—may enter the competition at any point during a Battle year without fear of infringement from the current ruler.
“‘To officially enter the Battle for the Throne, a person must touch a Bloodline Column in Stalker Square in front of no less than twelve witnesses. If his or her Bloodline is pure, handprints will remain in the column and four scale slots will appear. The first person to fill the scale slots from the Stalkers he has collected, protected, hunted or destroyed will become the new king or queen.
“‘If no one fills the slots by sundown of the final day of the Battle Year, the reigning ruler will retain the throne for 100 more years.’”
Once the echo of Ravier’s words faded away, he continued. “King Omri, you have praised your people for obeying the law. Shouldn’t you do the same and allow the Battle to commence? After all, disobedience is not tolerated in your kingdom.”
Javan watched Omri fume at hearing his own words repeated back to him. He had been backed in to a corner, and Javan could tell the man wasn’t sure how to respond.
Meanwhile, more and more of Vasilis’s scales were turning golden as he floated above the crowd. Javan could feel the dragon’s mood darken with each changing scale. If Vasilis wasn’t allowed to eat soon, his appetite would become insatiable. Then no one in the Square would be safe.
“Of course my father will allow the Battle to commence.” Micah’s words turned the infuriated look on Omri’s face to one of stone cold anger.
Considering the nervous sideways glance he shot his father, Micah knew he was standing on shaky ground. Nevertheless, he continued to address the crowd. “He is an honorable man who upholds the Law and only wants what is best for the people of Zandador. It is a Battle for the Throne year, and you deserve to experience the thrill and excitement of such a battle. But there is no battle without an opponent. So on behalf of King Omri and the Hunter Bloodline, I present myself as a proxy competitor in the Battle for the Throne!”
A proxy competitor? Could he do that? What did that mean?
Javan looked to Ravier for answers as the crowd cheered Micah’s announcement. The look Ravier shot back told Javan this was not something Ravier had anticipated.
Chapter 34
A Dragon or Death
“M
y son is right,” Omri said, quieting the crowd. “Many of you have never witnessed a Battle for the Throne. It is a time of adventure, anticipation and exhilaration as the bravest among you put their lives on the line to conquer dragons. Micah will compete for me as my proxy, so every dragon he hunts he hunts for me. When the battle is over and Micah is the victor, I will retain my throne and be the first Hunter King to control eight Dragon Stalkers.”
If all eight survive once you put us together, Serenity said. She shifted her feet on the stage behind Omri and spoke to her Stalker companions. I can barely tolerate the three of you.
We don’t much like you, either, Dahlia said. But I can’t have another Dawn Stalker to compete with. I am the most beautiful of us all and want to keep it that way.
Get over yourself, Vasilis said, coasting over the stage. You can’t even fly.
You can’t teleport.
Javan was rather amused by the insults the Stalkers were shooting at one another, but Ravier’s sharp response reminded him of the seriousness of the human conversation underway.
“I object,” Ravier said. “The law explicitly prohibits the reigning king from competing, and there is no law stating a proxy competitor is allowed.”
“There is now,” said Omri. “I hereby declare that anyone can enter the Battle for the Throne as a proxy for the current ruler. Any Dragon Stalkers won by the proxy belong to the ruler and qualify as his Stalkers.” Omri paused and addressed the crowd. “Anyone here opposed to such a law?”
Javan wanted to oppose him, but Ravier shook his head indicating not to make such a move. No one else risked opposing him either.
“Good,” Omri said. “Then it is set. Micah, enter the Battle.”
“Gladly.” Micah pushed past Ravier, descended the stairs and pranced to the column on the opposite corner from Javan.
Just like what happened with Javan, the column lit up and vibrated when Micah touched it. He stepped back, and Javan could tell by the oohs and ahhs of the crowd that his handprints remained and the vertical line of four triangles were appearing above his handprints.
&nbs
p; The people around Micah began slapping his back and wishing him good luck in the Battle. Javan, on the other hand, still stood alone.
“Now,” Omri said, regaining control of the crowd, “it is time to finish what we gathered here for today. But because we have made Vasilis wait so patiently, he will get to feast on Esmeralda as well as a man who used to be my trusted commander. He betrayed me fifteen years ago and has been in hiding ever since. Today it is my pleasure to finally deliver justice to Ravier.”
“I thought you might recognize me,” Ravier said.
“You were foolish to come here today.”
“Perhaps. But for the first time in 400 years, we have two competitors in a Battle for the Throne. Javan will collect his dragons, and you will be out of power. My sacrifice is worth it.”
His sacrifice? Now his mother and grandfather were going to die? This wasn’t right! They were supposed to prevent the execution, not add to it. Javan turned to Astor. “Astor, what’s happening?”
“Ravier knew this was a possibility.” Several soldiers led Ravier to the place on the stage beside Esmeralda. “He is sacrificing his life so you can compete.”
“That’s not the plan! I already told Omri that Esmeralda was acting in his best interest by activating the portal. He was supposed to let her go.” Javan watched Vasilis soar over the castle walls and begin to circle back toward the stage. “We have to save her. And Ravier. How do we do that now?”
“We don’t. The goal was to present you as a competitor and get Omri to accept your entry. We did that.”
“You mean you never thought we could save my mom?”
“No.”
Javan began to hyperventilate while Omri snapped his fingers. “Vasilis, your feast!”
It’s about time, Vasilis said, zeroing in on the stage.
Tears filled Javan’s eyes as he looked helplessly at his mother. Still strong and confident, Esmeralda mouthed the words I love you to Javan. He mouthed the same words back and looked at Ravier. His face turned to stone as he returned Javan’s look and simply said, “Win.”
The dragon was fifty feet away and gaining quickly when Javan yelled, “Stop! Me for them!” he yelled, running to the stairs. “Me for them! Me for them!”
“Vasilis, wait.” Omri held up his hand to stop his dragon from feasting for a second time and began walking toward the staircase. “What did you say?”
Vasilis screamed a stream of fire into the air, dusting the crowd with ashes. That’s twice now boy. You mess with my meal again and I’m coming for you. Vasilis skirted the stage and resumed his holding pattern above the crowd.
Despite the threat of the dragon, Javan rushed up the stairs. “Me for them,” he said, breathless. “If I don’t collect my first dragon within a month, you kill me instead of them. Then the Battle is over and the throne remains yours.”
“And if you do?” Omri asked.
“You let them go and see how the Battle plays out.”
“Interesting.” Omri crossed his arms and studied Javan.
“Javan,” Ravier said, “that’s suicidal. Let us go. You don’t need the added pressure of a month’s timetable to collect your first dragon.”
“I can’t just stand here and watch you die, not when I can do something about it.” Javan turned to Omri. “Well?”
“Agreed,” Omri said, “but with one exception. You have a week.”
“A week? That’s not enough time.”
“It’s all the time I will allow. Return here in one week. If you return with a dragon, I will release these prisoners. If you return without a dragon, I will have my dragons kill you instead of them. If you fail to return at all, my dragons will kill these prisoners and then come for you.”
“Don’t do it, Javan,” Esmeralda pleaded. “Your life is more important than the both of ours.”
Javan heard her desperate words but dared not look at her. He wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done otherwise. “I have your word that you’ll let them go if I return here in one week with a dragon?”
“You have my word.”
“You can’t trust him, Javan,” Ravier said. “We’re dead either way.”
“The people are my witnesses,” Omri said. He turned to address the crowd. “Good people of Zandador, the execution scheduled for today will have to wait. Vasilis, off to your hunting grounds to eat your meal!”
I had a craving for humans, but anything will do at this point, Vasilis said and flew away as swiftly as he had arrived.
“Now,” Omri continued, “I order you to all return in one week’s time. You will either witness an execution of these rebels or meet this young Collector’s first dragon.” He climbed on the back of his Midnight Stalker. “Now get back to your homes and back to work!”
Serenity spread her wings and took off, carrying the Dark King with her.
With the dragon gone, the soldiers immediately surrounded Esmeralda and Ravier. “Take them to the dungeon,” Micah ordered, having returned to the stage from the back staircase.
“I believe in you, Javan,” Esmeralda said as the soldiers led her away. “Good luck.”
Ravier, on the other hand, said nothing. Judging by the incensed look on his face, he wasn’t as confident in Javan’s collecting skills as his mother.
Once the stage cleared, Micah walked up to Javan and whispered in his ear. “I will meet you on the battlefield. Don’t expect to survive the encounter.” With that, Micah sprinted across the stage, jumped on Eli’s back and ran the dragon back through the castle gates.
Javan watched them disappear, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. One week. He had one week to collect his first dragon. Or die.
Chapter 35
Parting Ways
“Y
ou are a fool!”
Javan lifted his head and looked around to find a man at the bottom of the stairs pointing in his direction. Not one person in the crowd seemed to have left the stadium, and all eyes were on him as he stood alone on the stage. “Excuse me?”
“Only a fool would enter the Battle for the Throne with just four months to go, then give himself a mere week to collect his first dragon.”
“Now Micah will be hunting dragons, too,” said another man further back in the crowd. “How much more will we have to suffer if he succeeds?”
“It doesn’t matter if Micah succeeds or not.” A woman in the crowd behind Javan spoke this time. “You have angered King Omri. Who do you think he’s going to take his anger out on?”
“Us!” someone else answered. At that one word, pandemonium erupted in the form of screams, curses and insults in Javan’s direction. If they had rotten tomatoes available to them, Javan was certain he’d be covered in smelly, slimy red juice.
He stood dumbstruck on stage as he looked at the faces of the sea of people below him. He felt the fury in their cries and saw the hate in their eyes. This wasn’t the warm reception he had expected from the people he was here to help. Where were the cheers? Where was the support? Where was the encouragement?
“Come, Javan,” Hamilton said. He had joined Javan on stage and was tugging on his arm. “We have to get out of here. Now.”
“They hate me,” Javan said. “They’re not supposed to hate me.”
“They’re scared. You disrupted the status quo. All they see is what they fear, which is a more powerful King Omri. In time, they’ll come around.”
“Maybe if I show them my eyes,” he said, reaching for his sunglasses, “they’ll calm down and get excited about me being the answer to the prophecy.”
“No.” Hamilton stopped him from taking his glasses off. “Word will get back to Omri, and we can’t play that hand yet.”
“How else am I supposed to get them to like me?”
“You don’t. Being liked isn’t necessary; being respected is. You earn their respect by collecting dragons. But right now they want your head. We have to go before they decide to take it.”
“Right.” Javan snapped out of h
is stupor and descended the stairs with Hamilton on his heels. Astor was waiting at the bottom for them, and the three of them walked as one through the spitting, shouting, slapping crowd.
◊◊◊
Fortunately the bitter, furious people didn’t feel the need to escort Javan, Hamilton and Astor out of the city. But their cries of woe and desperation stuck with Javan as he half walked/half jogged back through the inner and outer city with his silent companions under the watchful eyes of the king’s soldiers stationed along the route.
He was also a little worried about Micah’s threat to kill him. The man was an intimidating, brutal soldier with real fighting experience. The only experience Javan had was in a simulated fighting environment. Would he be able to compete with Micah? Or would he freeze when the time came to test his fighting skills?
When he added all that to the fact that the lives of his mother and grandfather—not to mention his own life—depended on him to overcome the overwhelming odds, he wished he could close his eyes, pretend it was all a dream and wake up in the safety of his dragon-free home in Montana.
Reaching the okties waiting for them outside the city confirmed, however, that this wasn’t a dream. This was real. And he was in real trouble.
Javan took a deep breath as he climbed onto the back of his okty. “Where to now? Back to Gri?”
“No,” Hamilton said, settling on his own okty, “Gri is only safe as long as we don’t return.”
“What? Why? It’s protected by an invisibility shield.”
“The Dark King will be watching you now.” Hamilton nodded toward the soldiers observing them from the wall. “If he sees you disappear beyond the shield, he’ll know where to attack.”
