LEGENDS: Fifteen Tales of Sword and Sorcery

by Colt, K. J.

  She looked up and saw a tiny smile on his face. “I’ll be okay.”

  “I know,” Tressa said. “I know you will.”

  He smiled again and a small trickle of blood escaped from between his lips. “Funny, it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.”

  “Tressa!” Jarrett yelled. “Run!”

  A warm sensation lapped over the arm she had wrapped around Bastian’s back.

  “No.” It came out as a whisper, even though her heart was screaming. She pulled her arm away, letting Jarrett balance Bastian on his own.

  Blood drenched her sleeve. Warm and sticky, it dripped to the floor, bead by bead, leaking Bastian’s life with it. “No!”

  The blue dragon, the one that had been Stacia, whipped its tail again, taking another strip out of Bastian’s back. Henry still lay on the floor, convulsing, not yet a dragon, and no longer a young man.

  Tressa ran to her sword, grasped it in her palm, and strode toward the dragon. It reared up on its two back feet, the talons leaving scratch marks in the marble floor. With two hands on the hilt of her sword, she stepped forward, bravery outweighing stupidity.

  “Touch him again and I’ll kill you,” she shouted up at the dragon, unsure if Stacia could even understand her in this state. She glanced over her shoulder. Henry was still writhing on the floor, useless.

  The dragon’s nails click clacked on the marble tiles. It feinted to the left, then the right, easily avoiding every slash of Tressa’s sword. It was faster and more graceful than she’d thought a beast of its size would be. Tressa stepped back, her chest heaving. She’d tire out faster than the dragon if she kept swinging recklessly. The dragon eyed her, as if it knew what she was thinking, then turned and strolled to Henry.

  He’d finally settled into his dragon form. Golden scales covered his body, shimmering in the rising sunlight of mid-day. He stood on all fours and shook his head back, just like Henry always did with his golden hair. Even as a dragon, he was a narcissistic fool.

  Stacia’s head tilted to the side. Tressa was almost fascinated by how their movements in dragon form echoed their human form, except that fear in her stomach kept her grounded. She looked behind her. Jarrett was running back into the room, Bastian nowhere to be seen.

  “I left him in the hallway,” Jarrett said, puffing for air.

  “How is he?”

  “Alive.” His eyes met hers.

  She understood it was all he was willing to offer. No promises.

  “Good. Now let’s end this before anyone else gets hurt.”

  Jarrett nodded. The two took off running toward the blue dragon. Stacia swung her neck around and blew a wall of fire at them. Tressa and Jarrett stumbled backward. Tressa slipped on the marble and fell to the floor.

  Jarrett offered a quick hand. “You okay?”

  “A little singed. Not bad. Again?”

  He smiled. “Of course!”

  Stacia turned around, her tail swinging from side to side. Covered in sharp spikes, it slammed on the floor in between them. The marble cracked, separating Tressa and Jarrett from each other.

  Satisfied she’d neutralized Tressa and Jarrett for the moment, Stacia’s head returned to Henry. He was still prancing around, acting like a show pony instead of a dragon bent on defeating his enemy. Her jaws opened wide, Stacia roared and bit Henry’s neck, snapping it in two.

  Henry listed, then dropped to the ground. Dead in mere seconds. The golden dragon’s body didn’t even twitch with life. His neck lay out to the side at an awkward angle and his tongue lolled outside his jaws.

  For a moment, Tressa wondered if she’d miss the boy, but a hiss pulled her back to reality. Stacia faced them again, her slitted eyes glittering with bloodlust.

  “What next?” Tressa asked Jarrett. For the first time, she honestly wondered if they’d lose. Maybe it wouldn’t go the way of the old tales. The dragon had already killed Connor and Henry. Bastian lay dying in the hall. She and Jarrett were alone. Two swords against a dragon?

  “We fight until we win,” Jarrett said. “That’s the only option.” A bead of sweat trickled down his face, meandering over the sharp contours of his cheek, and nestling into his goatee. It was at that moment she realized how much he looked like his father.

  Tressa’s heart surged. She’d lost Leo and now his son stood in the path of death. All because of her. She made the only decision she could.

  Tressa dropped her sword and raised her hands. It clattered to the floor, falling into the crevice created by Stacia’s tail.

  “I surrender.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  JARRETT GAPED AT TRESSA. “WHAT are you doing?”

  “We can’t defeat her. I won’t have you die in vain.”

  “This isn’t your choice.” Jarrett shook his head. His curly dark hair flopped over one eye. “Insane woman. I liked you better as a man.” The pleading look in his eyes told her a different story. “We’ll all die either way. Let me die fighting.”

  “No, Jarrett. Your father...”

  “My father chose to fight for you. Bastian chose to fight for you. I choose to fight with you. There’s a difference there. I’m not doing this for you, Tressa, I’m doing it with you.”

  “Jarrett...” Tressa glanced out at the hall where he’d dragged Bastian. She’d spent the last two years without a man in her life and now she had two.

  It was less trouble without them.

  Tressa clenched her hands into fists at her side. She took one step forward. Followed by another. And another until she stood next to Stacia’s claws. “Run,” she yelled to Jarrett. She didn’t look back to see if he listened.

  The turquoise dragon snorted, then scooped Tressa up.

  The scales dug into her leathers, squeezing just hard enough for Tressa to feel lightheaded, but not enough to pass out. The room spun, marble and sunlight blended together in a carousel of color. Stacia’s teeth glistened.

  Tressa’s mind wandered back to her childhood. She imagined sitting on Granna’s lap, hearing a story about the world outside the fog. She never once believed she’d make it out, even though Granna said her destiny lay beyond the mist. If she had enough air to laugh, she would have. No matter, soon she’d be in the same place as Granna.

  She laid her head on the top of the dragon’s claw. It was almost over. She’d given Jarrett time to get away with Bastian. She couldn’t save Connor, but she’d saved them. That had to count for something.

  Inexplicably, the grip around her loosened. Tressa fell through the air, her arms flailing. Unable to catch her breath, gasping for the air she’d been denied, she braced for the landing on the marble floor. One that would kill her faster than Stacia’s teeth if her head or any vital organs absorbed the impact.

  Her rear end landed on the seat of Stacia’s throne just in time to have it knocked over by Stacia’s tail. Tressa rolled with the chair, her fingers digging into the plush blue velvet of the armrests.

  A roar rang out, followed by a low growl.

  Two distinct dragon voices.

  Tressa peeked up from underneath the upturned chair. A dark cobalt tail slithered past. She swallowed hard. Twice. Two dragons. One out to kill her. The other? Tressa could only hope it was help from Henry’s country. Maybe since the fog fell, the other dragons were coming in to conquer Stacia. It was Stacia’s greatest fear. Tressa hoped it was coming true.

  She kept her belly low to the ground and shimmied across the floor, in the opposite direction of the two dragons, toward the door. “Jarrett,” she desperately whispered. The two dragons caused such a cacophony, she was sure they wouldn’t hear her.

  “Over here!”

  Tressa looked to her left. There he was. Still in the room. Bloodied and holding a sword. He skirted the side of the room and ran along the walls.

  “You should have stayed under the chair. You’re mad, woman.”

  She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down to the ground on top of her.

  “Don’t you have
magic? Can’t you do something?” Tressa asked.

  Jarrett shook his head. “Not enough to hurt a dragon.”

  The throne flew over their heads and smashed against the wall, slivers of wood raining on them. She laughed. “Guess it’s a good thing I left the throne.”

  He brushed the sawdust off her face. “Like I said, you’re mad.”

  “Me? You’re the one still in here. I gave you the chance to get away.”

  “And I was just supposed to leave you there alone? I think not.”

  His face was only inches from hers and his body pressed down on hers. Tressa knew Bastian was right outside the door, dying. Two dragons were fighting in the same room. And yet, just for a moment, she was confused. “I think you can move now. We have to get out of here.”

  “I’m protecting your body with mine.” He pressed down a little harder.

  “Jarrett...”

  An iron wine cup whizzed above their heads, slamming into the wall. It rolled along the floor, resting next to Tressa’s head.

  “Thirsty?” Jarrett asked with a smile.

  Tressa rolled out from underneath him, surprised how it easy it was. She could have done it at any moment, really. She crawled on her belly toward the door with Jarrett behind her.

  Only after they slipped out into the hall, did she stand and run to Bastian. He sat on the floor, still conscious and breathing. “How are you?” Tressa smoothed back his red hair from his face.

  “I’ll be okay. A servant dropped a tankard of water when he saw what was happening in the throne room. He ran off. I was able to get to it and drink a bit. I’m still going to need some medical care, though.” He attempted to smile.

  “I know.” She kissed his forehead. “Things aren’t done in there yet.”

  “I’ll be okay. Go.”

  Tressa gave him one more kiss on the head and ran back to Jarrett. She stood behind the huge, solid doors taking a glance into the room. Stacia’s turquoise dragon scratched and bit at the cobalt dragon, who fought with intense vigor.

  “Who is that?” Tressa asked Jarrett.

  He shrugged and tossed his hands in the air. “He’s a blue, so he’s from here.”

  “He?” Tressa asked. She looked back into the room. “How do you know?”

  “I don’t. Just guessing.” Jarrett looked puzzled. “There were only two dragons here, last we knew. Stacia and her mother.”

  “Then who is that?” Tressa asked.

  “I don’t know.” Jarrett gazed at the two dragons. They fought with talons and teeth, neither willing to give an inch.

  “I think he might need help.” Tressa yanked Jarrett’s sword out of his hand and ran back into the room.

  “Tressa!” He yelled from behind, but she didn’t look back. He wouldn’t dare reenter the room without his own steel.

  Tressa leapt over broken china and destroyed remnants of the finery Stacia had surrounded herself with. It was all in ruin now. She slowed when she reached the outer edge of the fight.

  “Over here!” she yelled.

  Both dragons turned toward her, fire in their eyes. She’d hoped the cobalt dragon would accept her help, but based on the anger in his eyes, she might have been wrong. The cobalt dragon swept at her with his tail, but instead of knocking her to the side, she grabbed on.

  It felt like flying, so different than when Stacia had trapped Tressa in her grasp. Her brown hair blew out to the side as the tail swung her up and around. Her heart surged in her chest. Tressa gripped her sword with one hand, holding on for her life with the other arm.

  “Help me!” she screamed at the cobalt dragon. He seemed to understand. The angle of his swing changed, sending her speeding toward Stacia. Tressa flexed her bicep, readying herself. Flying toward Stacia, Tressa thrust her sword into the turquoise dragon’s belly.

  She reared back, screaming and clawing at Tressa and her cobalt dragon. Tressa felt the backward momentum switch to forward without warning. Again, her sword found its target.

  Stacia stumbled backward. Her back crashed against a stained glass window, raining shards of every color onto the floor.

  Dead.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  THE COBALT DRAGON BACKED UP to an area clear of debris, lowered his tail, and waited for Tressa to carefully climb to the floor.

  “Who are you?” she asked him. He just looked at her, his brown eyes blinking and silent.

  “Tressa!” Jarrett ran into the room. “What is wrong with you? Stealing my sword? Riding a dragon’s tail?”

  The cobalt dragon lowered his head between Tressa and Jarrett, snorting a warm stream of air into Jarrett’s face. He held up his hands and backed away.

  “It’s okay.” Tressa patted the dragon on the snout. “Jarrett is my friend.”

  The dragon huffed again, then slowly moved up. Jarrett ran under and took Tressa in his arms. He spun her around. “You did it! I can’t believe it!”

  She laughed. Relaxed for the first time in months. Stacia was dead. The fog was down. Everything she’d needed to accomplish was done.

  “But Henry…” Her voice trailed off as Jarrett set her down. “What will you tell his mother?”

  Jarrett shook his head. “I’m not sure. She’ll have my head for this. I may consider going into hiding. Perhaps I’ll take over my father’s profession. Do you think I could pass for The Man of Stealth and Romance?” He shot her a bright smile.

  Tressa couldn’t help but laugh again. “You are so much like your father. I think you just might pull it off. Or you could come with Bastian and me.” She looked toward the hall. “After he’s well, we’ll be going…”

  “Where?” Jarrett asked.

  “I honestly don’t know. We haven’t had time to plan.”

  “And you’re sure you want to be with him?” Jarrett asked, his eyes shining with sincere curiosity.

  The dragon interrupted them, blowing another batch of smoke in Jarrett’s face. He laughed. “I think the dragon wants you for himself.”

  Tressa placed her hand on the dragon’s claw. “There is something familiar about him.”

  The dragon nuzzled her, his scaly skin scratching her arm.

  Jarrett’s eyes narrowed. “I know Stacia and her mother were the only dragons here until recently. When did you say your friend was killed?”

  “A couple months ago.” Tressa shuddered, refusing to relive that horrible day in her memory. She’d shut the door on it. Connor deserved to be remembered for more than that.

  “And his body?” Jarrett wouldn’t stop pressing for answers.

  “Taken. By a set of dragon claws.”

  Jarrett walked closer to the dragon. It seemed more interested in him too. Jarrett held out a hand toward it, steady and sure. “Can you change into human form?”

  The dragon’s head hung down, its eyes downcast.

  “You can’t, can you?”

  The dragon shook its head.

  “Connor?” Tressa asked. She wasn’t sure she could believe it or if she even wanted to believe it.

  The dragon swung an eye toward her, then slowly nodded.

  “Oh gods, Connor!” She threw her arms around the dragon’s muzzle. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “He’s in transition. It’s only been a few months, so he cannot control the changing yet. Like Henry.” Jarrett rested a hand on Tressa’s back. “He will eventually be able to control it, just like Stacia and all of the other dragonlords.”

  “But how?” Tressa asked, stumbling backward. She still left a hand on Connor’s muzzle, not ready to let go yet. “Connor was never a dragon. He was as human as me.”

  “The dragonlords have their ways. They can take someone like you or I, and change them. I don’t know all the secrets of how it works, but I know it does. As an insider to the Yellow Throne I have seen things.”

  “And the people stand for this?” She thought of the regular people out in the streets, running their businesses, tending to their families. Their very lives were in da
nger.

  “They don’t know. In fact, you are one of few people who know that dragons can switch between human and dragon form.”

  Tressa staggered backward, letting go of Connor and distancing herself from Jarrett. “But the dragons. The people know they exist.”

  “They believe the dragons are protectors of the dragonlords. They do not know they are one and the same.”

  Tressa couldn’t wrap her mind around it. She knew she’d had to keep Henry a secret from the others because of his mission to kill Stacia and take over the throne. She hadn’t realized it was a secret she’d have to withhold from the rest of the world.

  “No one can know. They fear the dragons, but the people love their leaders.”

  Tressa snorted. “No one here loved Stacia.”

  “No, but they loved her mother.”

  “And Connor will one day learn how to turn human again on his own?”

  Jarrett nodded.

  “And he will be the same man as before?”

  Jarrett stood still.

  “Jarrett?”

  “He will be … different. How I cannot say. It is not the same for everyone.”

  Tressa patted Connor on the nose again. “If you are in there and you can understand me, I want you to know that Bastian and I will find a way to help you. I promise.”

  “That is not all,” Jarrett said.

  Tressa turned to him. “What else is there?”

  “Now that the fog has fallen, the other dragonlords will prepare for war.”

  Her shoulders tensed up. “Why?”

  “Because Hutton’s Bridge holds something they all desire.”

  Tressa laid next to Bastian. She brushed his hair out of his eyes. “The physic said you’ll be feeling better in a couple of weeks. You sustained some serious injuries.”

  “I’ll be fine in a day or two.” He tried to sit up, but instead he winced in pain.

  “No, you’ll take the time to heal properly.” She pressed her body into his. “Everything else will fall into place if you let yourself heal.”

  “And you? What will you do until then?”