Unable to believe what she was seeing, Fryda couldn't move.
"Come, Fryda!" Jaruman held out a hand from atop the cave dragon's back. He grabbed her and hurled Fryda atop the cave dragon's back. She settled into the ridges of the dragon's back, and the dragon twisted into the open air.
The Witch Queen screamed.
Dragon after dragon leaped from their perches and pursued them. Fire boomed from the cave dragon's mouth, engulfing two dragons at once. The heat singed Fryda's hair.
"Don't be afraid to grip the ridges hard," Jaruman called out from behind her.
Fryda took his advice not a moment before the cave dragon tilted and somersaulted. A column of fire roared past where they'd been, setting another dragon alight. The dragons screeched. When the cave dragon felled one dragon, another took its place.
"Leap from the dragon," Elmyra's voice commanded. Unable to disobey the voice inside her head, Fryda let go of the dragon's ridges and toppled. She plummeted. Her stomach rushed up as the cave dragon caught her in its paws.
"Free yourself!" Elmyra commanded again.
Fryda thrashed to either side. She clawed at the dragon's scales, but its grip only tightened. Two desires warred within Fryda's mind—one to jump from this dragon to her death, and the other to remain within the safety of its paws.
Suddenly, they were ripped from the air. They crashed to a cliff, tumbling and rolling. Fryda was thrown from the dragon's back. A cloud of dust settled. A black dragon lay atop the cave dragon, tearing at the other's neck with his teeth.
Fryda could see no sign of Jaruman. She'd been reunited with him for a moment, and now they were separated again. The cliff she stood on jutted out from the side of the wall. Where was Jaruman? Had he not been so lucky and fallen to his death?
At the other end of the cliff were two doorways. They were too small for dragons to get through. Deciding she couldn't wait around, Fryda went through the left doorway.
She sprinted down a corridor, thankful for the light emitted from the plants on the walls. She pulled against the nornthread, unable to break them. Even the crags in the walls yielded no success. Frustrated, she continued, fearing what might happen should she come upon an elf who could command her.
While she ran, the thought of Jaruman remained with her. She needed to go back and find him eventually. He would have surely died from such a fall, but what if he hadn't fallen? He might be in that shaft somewhere.
Jaruman wasn't the only issue that plagued her. She also needed to stop the Witch Queen. She might have already finished the sealing. There was so much Fryda needed to do, and yet she was lost inside these corridors, bound by nornthread. She was helpless. But she couldn't allow herself to think like that. There was still hope. She had to believe that.
Before long, she heard a dozen marching feet. There were no doorways to turn down. She ran back in the direction she'd come, only to find that same noise. She was cornered.
Fryda readied herself for a fight, knowing that a single command would disable her. Instead, the draken fighter Lopyl led a group of drakens clad in white togas. "You must leave here now. Flee Dragir. The queen will torture you if she finds you."
"I'll never leave the city alive." Fryda raised her wrists. Nornthread bound them. She remembered how Tursn had cut her bonds the previous day with his claws. "Where was I imprisoned?" Maybe Naeth would help them; maybe she wouldn't. But Fryda was all by herself in a mountain fortress filled with dragons. She needed all the help she could get, and if she freed the drakens, they'd be indebted to her. Naeth, at least, wanted to see Elmyra fall.
"We cannot go with you," Lopyl said. "If a dragon or an elf finds us—"
"You won't have to. Just tell me where Naeth is. I will bring her to you." Fryda also risked encountering an elf in the tunnels. With the nornthread around her wrists, she would be as vulnerable as any of the drakens. But one person could more easily sneak through the tunnels than a group.
A boom rang through the tunnel, shaking the walls.
"She is being kept beneath the drakens' quarters." Lopyl glanced up at the roof with concern, as though it might fall on their heads. "I will tell you where to go."
32
Jaruman
Jaruman ran into a chamber and leaned against the wall. Hidden in the shadows, he held his breath as a squad of armored elves filed past him. Their footsteps quietened, and the stench of their oiled armor went away.
He'd awoken on the cliff, seeing no sign of Fryda or Stardrux. Using the Madukai power to strengthen his sense of smell, he'd followed after Fryda. Before long, other creatures smothered her scent. He'd continued through the tunnels regardless, unable to find her.
Rather than venture back into the corridor, Jaruman surveyed the chamber. Darkness blanketed everything, save for an oddly dull light. He approached the light. As he got closer, he saw its origin.
A forest wyvern was chained at the far end of the room. Its wings had been brutally torn from their sockets. Without its wings, it was merely a lizard the size of a horse. Fire brewed in its throat, but the chains wrapped around its snout prevented the wyvern from releasing it. Smoke drifted from the scales around its throat. It was likely so furious at whoever had stripped its wings that it would soon burn itself alive from the inside.
A noise came through a window. Jaruman knelt, hiding from whatever lay behind it.
"Jaruman?" The voice belonged to an elven man. An armored guard, perhaps. But how did he know Jaruman's name? "It's me, Stardrux."
Still not entirely convinced, Jaruman crept over to the window and peered out of it. Stardrux was flying in a shaft outside. Wounds peppered her body. He had only known the cave dragon for a short time, but he was glad to see her alive.
"Can you climb through?" she asked.
Jaruman slipped his head through the window and found he could also get his shoulders through with some effort. He heard wyvern whimper and stopped.
A wingless existence was no life for a wyvern. From the look of her wounds, she would bleed out slowly. Even if she didn't, she'd probably die from infection.
"This was one of those who took the woman from the enclosure to Dragir," Stardrux said, her eye peering through the window.
"Then she has received a just sentence." Jaruman decided against giving the wyvern a quick death. He was about to squeeze through the window again when Stardrux stopped him.
"To clip the wings of a dragon—even a wyvern—is the most heinous punishment. The Witch Queen has stepped outside her bounds. The gift of prophecy has made me insane, but it is jealousy that has allowed insanity to consume her. For dragons, and for her brother."
Jaruman approached the wyvern. The trauma had crushed bone as much as sliced it. He only had the energy to burn a little lifesoul, but it would be enough. "I'll end it now."
"No!"
Jaruman whirled around, startled at the sound of a woman's voice. He'd half-expected it to come from Stardrux, except this one spoke aloud, not inside his mind.
Someone stepped alongside Jaruman and grabbed his arm. He recoiled, about to plant a fist into the person's stomach, when he saw who it was.
Fryda.
Her red hair was knotted and dark with dirt. When Jaruman had first seen her on the cliff, standing beside the Witch Queen, he'd hardly recognized her. Now, he grabbed her and hugged her to his chest.
"My daughter," he said. The Madukai never shed tears. Everyone knew that. Except for this one moment, Jaruman was not Madukai.
"Father," Fryda whispered. They held each other for a time until Fryda pulled away. Jaruman didn't want to let her go, but he did.
Fryda stared at the cave dragon outside the window. ”Is that the Mad One?"
"That's her, but I don't think she likes that name all that much. Her name is Stardrux."
"Stardrux," Fryda rolled the name on her tongue, reached through the window, and stroked beneath the dragon's neck.
"There'll be more than enough time for introductions. For now, we have to fi
nd a way out of here."
"We cannot leave yet," Stardrux said inside Jaruman's mind. "The dragon soul must be retrieved. Elmyra will finish sealing Madrem to the altar as soon as she's dealt with Hurn's skinwalkers."
"So Alfric and the others have made it to the cave," Jaruman said.
Fryda's mouth widened. "Alfric is here?"
Jaruman had been searching for her for days and ended up in Dragir. They could flee now, away from all this. He should never have mentioned Alfric's name. Jaruman had always liked the lad, but Fryda would go after him and endanger herself.
He couldn't let her do that.
No, she wasn't a child anymore. If she truly loved him, then he couldn't forbid her. Besides, she wouldn't listen. She was in this very mountain because she hadn't heeded his advice. This time, he needed to give the right advice.
When Jaruman peered into Fryda's eyes, he could see there would be no fleeing.
"We will find him," he said. If Elmyra was not dealing with Hurn's skinwalkers, then Alfric might very well be dead when they found him.
Fryda's face hardened, holding back tears. "There's something I need to do first. I have a promise to keep." She went past Jaruman to the shackled wyvern. Taking the iron chains in hand, she searched along the links. When she found a lock, she turned around, her eyes scanning.
"You don't need a key," Jaruman said. He burned power. Madukai magic filled his veins until all his stores depleted. Startled, he didn't allow the surprise to show on his face. Once he used what remained in his bloodstream, he'd have no more magic for days.
"Stand back," he said as he snapped the chains around the wyvern's jaws. A ball of flame erupted from the wyvern's mouth, and Jaruman jumped back. The fire burned a black mark onto the wall.
When the smoke lifted, Fryda knelt beside the wyvern. "Naeth," she whispered. "Will you come with me to free the drakens? Only a dragon claw can break the nornthread."
The wyvern looked up at Fryda. Concern marked Fryda's expression as they conversed, Jaruman unable to hear any of their mind-talk. Soon, the wyvern struggled to her feet.
"This promise you made," Jaruman said, "it was to the draken?"
Fryda nodded. "I told them I would set them free if they didn't take me to their queen."
"Go," Jaruman said. Though he yearned for her to stay with him, he knew that this was her choice. She was a woman now. She had gone to find Alfric the first time against his wishes. Had Jaruman been conscious when she'd left the second time, he would have forbidden her. It had taken all this for him to see that she was a woman now, not a little girl. "Return here when you're done. I have something to take care of. I'll be back as soon as I can. We'll find Alfric together."
Fryda wrapped her arms around Jaruman. He grabbed her head and held it to his chest. This was his daughter. He let her go, and the clipped wyvern stalked her out from the cavern.
Jaruman turned to Stardrux. "How long before Elmyra seals the dragon soul to the altar?"
“Hurn’s skinwalkers have distracted her. When she deals with them, which won’t be long, she’ll start the sealing again. It is a good thing your daughter is helping the drakens before she seeks the skinwalker boy.”
Jaruman didn’t need the dragon to tell him that. He had little time to find Elmyra and stop her from sealing the dragon soul, but he also needed to find Alfric before Fryda did. If she somehow got in the middle of the fight, she wouldn’t survive.
"You think you can face a witch?" Stardrux said.
Jaruman grimaced. The Madukai power was strong, but even at the best of times, it wouldn't have been able to face a witch like Elmyra. And he had almost none of it left. He hoped Stardrux's power might make up for where he lacked. Jaruman climbed through the window and mounted Stardrux.
"Do you still have the suppression stone?" Stardrux asked.
Jaruman realized he'd forgotten all about it. He'd used it so that Stardrux could get out of the dragon enclosure through a different iron door, but hadn't touched it since.
"I'll only be able to control one dragon with it," he said, taking it from his pocket. It buzzed with power. There were so many dragons in the Cave of the Sunless that it was bursting to take hold of one.
"You’ll only need to take control of one. Elmyra's elven spirit has been melded with that of a dragon. I suspect she will be vulnerable to it."
Jaruman clutched the stone in his hand as they soared up the shaft toward the sounds of battle.
33
Alfric
Everything about Alfric's power had increased, and the hunger along with it. The draken servants tried to get away, but now that he no longer abstained, he was stronger, and faster. And with the silver scepter granting him and the others control, the wraiths were nothing but dull murmurs.
Alfric stepped on top of a draken corpse and pulled his shield from where it had embedded itself. He wiped his forehead. Sweat and blood matted his fur.
Cyne finished feeding on one of the drakens and stood.
"No sign of the dragon soul?" Bradir asked as he stepped out from a closet.
Alfric shook his head. "Even if we do find Elmyra, Hurn doesn't want us to harm her. How will we convince her to give us the dragon soul?"
"A good question," Hurn's voice spoke inside Alfric's head, "and the reason why I need you to open a rift."
"Did you hear that?" Alfric asked Bradir who gave him a confused look.
“Only you can hear my voice,” the voice said. “I am using the scrying crystal to speak with you. Now summon a rift to Eosor's Glade. Make haste.”
It was surely the voice of Hurn, but he’d spoken earlier about the oath that prevented him from coming to Dragir. Why did he now want Alfric to open a rift? Maybe he didn’t want to step through it himself.
“What of your oath?” Alfric asked. He knew he ought not question Hurn, but everything about this change was confusing.
"Someone convinced me that some oaths ought to be broken," Hurn said. "The cleansing must be fulfilled. To do that, we need the dragon soul. Better a sorcerer face my sister than three skinwalkers."
That sounded reasonable. But who had convinced him?
Concentrating on Hurn's voice and thinking of Eosor's Glade, Alfric opened a rift. Hurn stepped through it. It was getting easier to pinpoint the required location, but each rift made Alfric grow more tired.
Hurn glanced at the corpses around him. "My sister will be most displeased with what you've done to her chambers. I suppose the rest of the day’s events aren’t likely to make her any happier."
The hunger was satiated, Alfric took in the room with new eyes. These servants hadn’t even attacked the skinwalkers. They’d tried to fight back merely to defend themselves. Alfric had led this carnage. Was this the manner of creature he’d become? Would he feel the same guilt when the hunger came anew?
"Can we get to Elmyra without more fighting?" Alfric said.
Bradir balked. "You still don't understand what we are, do you? We've been created to fight. You like it. I saw that when you tore the throat from that one." He nodded at a corpse. Not only was its throat torn out, but its face had been bitten off completely. Alfric couldn’t even remember doing that.
"Alfric speaks wisely," Hurn said. "We don't need to do any more killing than is necessary. Elmyra will be in the shaft. She’s likely sent guards to find us. They’ll be upon us in moments.
“As soon as I retrieve the dragon soul, you need to open another rift, Alfric. Elmyra will pursue us, but she won’t leave the confines of Dragir. Even if she sends dragons, we will be safe within Grimwald Forest. I'll describe the cave’s main chamber to you. Picture it as best you can and then open a rift."
Alfric listened to Hurn's description of the giant chamber with glowing plants. A hundred cliffs jutted out from a lengthy shaft. At the bottom was a dais encircled by runes and an empty pillar.
With an image in his mind, Alfric opened a rift.
They all stepped through, and onto a cliff. At least a hundred other
cliffs poked out from the vast shaft. The shaft’s bottom seemed to have no end. Even Alfric’s skinwalker senses could see only blackness.
On a dais below, was a glowing green light. Over a hundred drakens clad in white togas stood around it. Every few seconds, a handful of drakens stepped into the abyss. Rather than beat their wings, they plunged to their deaths without a cry.
"What are they doing?" Alfric whispered.
“Killing themselves,” Hurn said with a frown. “To seal the dragon soul to the altar. I told you that the Knud was wicked when he imprisoned the gods. Is his wickedness no more evident than the manner in which the orbs are sealed to the altars?"
Alfric turned away as more drakens fell to their deaths. “Are the drakens so devoted to Elmyra that they would give their own lives?”
Hurn snorted. “My sister controls them with a dark magic. Yet she truly believes she ought rule the world. In her way, she wishes to restore the natural order of things. Except enslavement is not the way to do that.”
Alfric had seen so much suffering of late. Determining whose methods were justified—and even whether their goals were worthy of pursuit—was impossible.
Hurn had been responsible for shattering Aern’s orb, and that had brought great suffering to the region. Alfric wouldn’t have been a skinwalker were it not for that. The cleansing would apparently restore the world to the way it ought to have been, but how was Alfric to know that this was true? In that moment, Alfric didn’t know.
He didn’t know much at all anymore. The hunger had confused his emotions, and Hurn’s words had confused his mind. Yet he had promised to Hurn he would help him retrieve the dragon soul. If all Hurn’s words were lies, at least Alfric would not be made a liar by abandoning this quest.
“Are you ready?” Hurn touched Alfric’s shoulder. “It is time.”
Hurn explained their plan and they each went about enacting it.
The Dragon Soul (Vagrant Souls Book 2) Page 22
