by Nathan Roden
The dragon screeched a thunderous scream that Simon felt in his teeth.
He could kill me in one second, Simon thought.
And I don’t care.
“You have to help me!” Simon yelled into the wind.
The shocked dragon pulled out of his flight. He hovered in the air and stared at Simon. He screeched again. He turned his head and blasted fire.
“Yes, I can talk!” Simon said. “I don’t have time to explain! Your wife and your child are hurt! If you don’t help me we’re all going to die!”
The dragon continued to hover and continued to stare. And screech.
“I don’t have time for this!” Simon yelled. “I’m going!”
Simon dove. He didn’t look back to see if the other dragon was following. He would, or he wouldn’t. One way or another this battle would soon be over.
He watched the crew of the southern cannon turn it in his direction. He flew straight at the cannon.
“This is what you’re expecting isn’t it?” Simon hissed through his teeth.
“An ignorant, angry beast that knows nothing but blind fury?”
Simon turned his wings abruptly downward, flipping him upside-down. He beat his wings again—driving himself in the opposite direction. The cannon blast missed him by a hundred feet. The crew immediately began to reload.
Simon had already turned toward them. He bathed two of them in fire. The one unburned man ran away. One of the men grabbed at their water buckets. He spilled one and used the other to douse his flames. He watched helplessly as the other man died.
Simon took deep breaths. He flew over the cannon and latched onto it. He pulled with all of his might. The cannon was almost as heavy as he was. He strained and pulled, climbing higher and higher. He could hardly see at all from the effort. He pushed himself into the sky until he could no longer feel his legs.
He let go.
The cannon rocketed to earth from hundreds of feet in the air. It broke into pieces on impact.
Simon turned his attention back to the north. The corporal’s squad and the hunters had advanced their positions. The hunters moved east to cut off Sir Edmund’s retreat into the forest. Lamont’s arrows did little damage against the heavily protected hunters. And a cannon was aimed at the second baby dragon.
Simon swooped in front of the baby and grabbed it. He shot into the air.
But felt something wrap around his leg. Another snare. He fought his way back to the ground and pushed the baby dragon behind him.
He heard men cheering.
No. Those were not cheers at all.
The sky went black above him.
The hunters scattered, running and screaming. Their evasion did not help them at all. And neither did their armor.
The father dragon opened his mouth. His roar shook the ground. His fire was so hot that it burned blue as well as yellow and orange. The hunters were cooked inside of their heavy armor.
The dragon walked to the baby lying on the ground. He used his teeth to cut away the snare. He pushed his nose against the baby. It jumped to its feet.
The dragon stepped to the fallen mother of his children.
Her breathing was erratic and shallow. He nudged her gently with his nose. She did not react. He lifted his head into the air and roared. He shot into the sky. One by one, the corporal’s men backed away. And then they turned to run.
“Stand your ground, men!” the corporal screamed. “I said stand—you bunch of cowards!”
The corporal’s defiance was his last act on the earth.
He had thirty-five men under his command. He was the first to die. The others were burned to death within six seconds.
The dragon landed next to the hunter’s cannon. He grabbed its barrel with his teeth and snapped it in two.
Boone, Ben, and Helena had run to Simon’s side.
“That—is a good puppy to have on your side,” Boone whispered. “What did you do?”
“I asked him to help,” Simon said.
“Good idea,” Helena said.
The dragon circled overhead.
“The rest of the Border Guard is in the forest,” Ben pointed to the west.
“Is he going to burn them out?”
The dragon landed. Sir Edmund’s group took a few steps back.
The dragon stepped slowly toward the mother dragon. He sat down heavily, with his back to the humans. He stared at the dragon as a light drizzle began to fall.
“I said march! You will march or so help me I will run you through!”
The cries came from the western forest. The Captain and twenty-one other members of the Border Guard walked out of the forest with their hands on top of their heads.
Nicolas Lamont and his company marched behind them. Lamont held his sword at the Captain’s back.
“Halt!” Lamont said.
The Captain kept walking.
“Did you hear me?”
“I am not going anywhere near those demons!” the Captain snapped.
The dragons paid him no mind. They continued to watch the mother dragon’s chest—rising and falling. Rising and falling.
Helena nudged Boone’s side. She motioned across the field
The wolf ran to the north at full speed, disappearing over a hill.
The Captain spit in the ground and stared at Simon.
“I cannot believe that Sterling has allowed you to live this long. He should have given me the charge to take your head—before you had the opportunity to unite with more of these filthy flying snakes!”
“We will not listen to more of your insults, Captain,” Simon said. “We offer you terms of surrender—”
The Captain drew back and spat at Simon.
“Take your surrender and go to hell!”
“Perhaps you prefer the dignity of a quick execution,” Sir Edmund growled.
“We came south with but only hundred and twenty men!” the Captain said. “Most of them boys—with no experience at all! And we almost had you!”
“I know what you’re up to, Braun! You’ve been waiting for years to get back at the realm. And so you’ve crawled into bed with beasts! We took down two of your dragons—and if not for that giant hell-lizard over there crying over his dead bitch wife—!”
“Stop it!” Simon roared. “Not another word!”
“I will see every one of you dead!” the Captain’s eyes bulged. Veins stood out on his neck.
“You know all about crazy bitch mothers, don’t you, dragon-boy?”
“I will laugh while I watch the King’s Army pull you apart! I will watch your precious baby dragons ripped to pieces!”
“Shut up!” Simon screamed. “If you open your mouth—!”
“I will watch the crows pick their eyes—!”
Simon snapped his jaws shut.
The Captain’s lifeless body slumped to the ground. His blood pumped from his neck.
The air was so silent that the only sound was the rustling of leaves in the wind.
“Simon?” Boone whispered.
Simon turned his head and spat.
The Captain’s head rolled in front of his soldiers.
The boys were frozen in place. Some cried. Some could only whimper. After a few seconds, one boy turned and ran.
“Wait!” Simon called.
The boy stopped. He did not turn around.
“If you leave, what do you return to? Do you think that my uncle will let you live?”
The boy turned around.
“Your uncle?”
“Lord Sterling. My uncle. The man with the blackest soul on earth. Yes, he is my father’s brother. And he rules the kingdom as my brother’s regent.”
“If you go back to the north, he will have you executed. For failing. He will not care that you escaped with your lives. He cares nothing for you at all.”
Simon looked at the Captain’s head.
“This man cared nothing for any of you. I know that because I know Lord Sterling. He only chooses men like him for positions of p
ower.”
“Are you…are you really the son of Bailin?” one of the boys asked.
“Yes. I was born Simon Morgenwraithe. I am now eighteen years old—the same age as some of you.”
“What do you plan to do now?”
“We are gathering an army of people who are tired of Sterling’s tyranny. We intend to take back our land and our lives.”
“Your brother is the king,” another boy said. He glanced down at the head.
“Will you kill him?”
“In his heart, I don’t believe that Lucien is evil. But he is powerless as long as Sterling lives. If it comes to it, then yes, I will choose the good of all over my own flesh and blood.”
One of the boys spat on the Captain’s head.
“He treated us like dogs.”
The boy walked in front of Simon. He took off his uniform coat and dropped it at Simon’s feet. One by one, the other boys did the same.
Simon looked at the baby dragons and made a noise.
They walked over and set the coats ablaze.
The drizzle turned to sprinkles, and the sprinkles turned into a steady shower. Lamont whispered something to his men.
They began unpacking their tents, but they did not set them up in the normal fashion. They began to erect one giant tent—to shield the Mother dragon from the rain.
The men were nervous at first, to be so close to the enormous male. But the dragon stayed still and quiet and watched the mother dragon’s chest rise and fall.
Sixty-eight
Finn, Winston, Jaclyn, and Caleb stretched and rubbed their backsides. The horses drank from a stream.
Caleb’s head snapped to the north.
“Horses,” he said. “Riding south. Riding hard.”
“This is not good,” Finn said. He lifted Jaclyn back onto their mount.
They rode as fast as the horses could go, but Raynard’s horses were bigger, faster, well-fed, and rested. They would be overtaken quickly.
Caleb raised his hands in the air.
“What is he doing?” Winston asked Finn.
Behind them, trees were torn from the ground by their roots. They fell across the road in their wake.
“That’s quite handy.”
They heard the swearing of Raynard and his men behind them.
It was not long before Raynard closed in on them again.
Oliver and Lucien kept pace behind them. Something flashed in front of them. Another rider, on the fastest horse in the entire kingdom.
Sterling.
Raynard pulled away from his men. He was about to overtake Winston and Caleb. He held his sword in his hand.
Caleb leaned forward and grabbed a handful of mane. He spoke into the horse’s ear. The horse gained speed.
Caleb leaned toward Finn’s horse, but he let go of his horse’s mane. Only Winston’s last-second grasp keep Caleb from falling to the ground.
Raynard turned his attention to Finn.
“Stop! In the name of the king—this instant!” he called out.
Finn veered away from Raynard’s horse. He kicked his horse’s flank, but it had no more to give. Finn looked toward Raynard. His eyes bulged.
Raynard’s sword came down—intending to cut Finn in two. Finn raised his arm in defense.
The sword cut through Finn’s arm just below his elbow.
He screamed. Jaclyn screamed. She grabbed at Finn to hold him on.
Caleb raised his hands again. A tree fell in Raynard’s face. He was knocked to the ground. He called to his horse, who returned to his side. A dark shape blew past him. Raynard scowled at Sterling’s back and mounted up again.
Winston slowed his horse. He rode next to Finn, who would soon black out. Jaclyn held onto him, crying.
“I’ll bring him over, Jaclyn,” Winston said.
Winston rode so close to the other horse that their shoulders touched. He leaned and grabbed Finn. He closed his eyes and pulled with all his might. The Captain was far too heavy. Winston was about to give up when he saw two other hands grab hold of Finn’s coat.
With Caleb’s help, they pulled Finn onto their horse.
It’s no good, Winston thought. He’s losing too much blood.
Winston glanced down at Finn’s severed arm.
He was not bleeding at all. The wound was covered—in skin.
“You did good, Caleb,” Winston said. “Real good.”
Jaclyn continued to cry. She could not get hold of the reins. She held onto the horse’s mane.
Sterling’s eyes lit up when he saw the opportunity that presented itself.
He slowed enough to grab his bow and take an arrow from his quiver.
“In the heat of battle,” Sterling said to himself. “One misplaced arrow and the troublesome queen breathes no more!”
Sterling drew back.
“Uncle! No!”
Sterling relaxed the tension on his bow.
Lucien and Oliver pulled alongside.
“They’ve kidnapped Jaclyn!” Lucien cried. “We have to save her. We can catch them!”
Jaclyn saw movement to her side. She turned and screamed.
“It’s me, my queen! Timothy Stoddard! Oliver’s friend. I have to come over. My horse is spent!”
Jaclyn dried her eyes and nodded. She reached to help Timothy.
Sterling saw the boy ride beside the queen. He had come out of nowhere. Just as the boy launched himself behind Jaclyn, Sterling loosed his arrow. Jaclyn had no chance to help him. Timothy tumbled to the ground.
A thunderous roar sounded behind them.
“What in the h—?” Sterling turned around and saw Dathien on horseback. He screamed with rage as he approached them.
Dathien rode past Sterling without a glance. He would overtake Jaclyn in seconds.
Caleb sat up tall. He sat on the horse’s neck, in front of Winston. Captain Finn was in the middle, his head lolling from weakness.
Caleb raised his head and opened his mouth. He loosed a strange, high pitched sound.
Oliver stopped. He leaped off his horse beside Timothy. Lucien did not know what else to do. He stopped as well. Doing so may have saved his life.
Jackals.
Dozens of jackals ran out of the trees and onto the road. They surrounded the horses carrying Raynard, Sterling, Dathien, and the other soldiers.
The jackals ran between the horse’s legs. They nipped at their legs, and their hindquarters. Some of the horses halted immediately, throwing their riders to the ground. Others left the road, kicking wildly at the jackals and trying to stay alive.
Dathien’s horse reared. Dathien fell to the ground. He leaped up and raised his hand toward the road. A blast of light exploded overhead and rained fire down toward the Jaclyn and the others. Caleb raised his hands and the fire turned back at Dathien. Dathien stared in disbelief before he dove to the ground.
He jumped to his feet and swore. He shook his fist at Caleb, who waved his hand high for all to see. And then they disappeared over the hill.
Dathien continued to swear. At least, that was what Sterling assumed he was doing. The language was unknown to him.
“Your robe is on fire, Great Wizard.”
Dathien stopped his rant while he put out the flames.
Sterling shook his head and walked toward Lucien, Oliver, and the fallen rider. Raynard and his men limped in that direction as well.
Oliver sobbed as he held up his friend’s head.
“Stay with me, Tim.”
“Tell…tell my mother…”
Timothy breathed his last.
“Would someone tell me what is going on here?” Sterling snarled.
“Your wizard was bested,” Raynard said.
“By a blind boy.”
“Dathien!” Sterling said. “What were you doing in Islemar?”
Dathien laughed. He reached inside of his robe.
“When you see this, you will understand! My price may triple!”
Dathien jammed his hands inside of h
is robe. He was getting angry.
He raised his head and screamed.
Caleb calmed himself. He could sense that the danger was over—for now.
He patted his coat. He reached into a pocket and took out the parchment, which had been torn in two. He did not know what it said. But that did not matter.
He knew that it was important to the queen.
And to his rightful king.
Sixty-nine
The wolf ran without a single thought of slowing down before she reached the border. She did not know what would happen there—but she could not have stopped if she tried.
She had the feeling that she was being followed.
A large, dark shape blew by her. It turned and stopped in her path.
A huge wolf. A male.
Magdalena did not care how big he was. She would stop for nothing—or no one.
The wolf transfigured before her eyes—into the man who had saved them all in the village of Vallen.
Magdalena transformed into the lady, without even thinking about it.
The man did not seem surprised.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“I have to go to the border. I don’t know why. I…I never got a chance to thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the man smiled. “There is much injustice in the world these days. And it is not confined to the kingdom. I believe that your intent is good. You and your people have good hearts.”
“If something is not done, the south will fall,” Magdalena said. “Thank you, again. I have to go.”
“Of course.“
Magdalena bent over and transformed. She tensed to run.
“Good luck.”
“Maggie.”
The man became a wolf and ran south.
Magdalena tried to stop so quickly that her front legs splayed out and her head hit the ground. She rose up, becoming a woman again.
