The Return of the Dragon Queen

by Farah Oomerbhoy

Joreth spoke, grabbing my attention. “I have sent for the Drakaar assassins to assist you. They will take care of Azaren while you get rid of Elayna and bring the child to me.”

  Morgana’s eyes flashed. “But you said yourself the child has to die for me to be queen.”

  Joreth clamped his hand around Morgana’s arm. “The child must not be harmed. I have a use for her yet.”

  “But the throne—”

  “—will be yours,” Joreth finished.

  Morgana nodded.

  Victor looked at me. “This is the final part. Are you sure you want to see this?”

  I nodded. I had to know the whole story. I straightened my shoulders. “I’m ready.”

  Victor drew a rune with his staff and the scene shifted one last time.

  I could smell something burning, and a flash of light blinded me. The curtains were enveloped in a blaze, and the acrid smell of smoke filled my lungs. I had to remind myself we were shielded and safe.

  We were in the nursery. A child cried in the corner. My mother was there, her beautiful blonde hair flashing golden in the light of the fire. Two dark terrifying shapes loomed up behind her, swords glinting red in the light of the roaring flames. Drakaar. I wanted to warn her, but it was unnecessary—she already knew they were there.

  Elayna Firedrake whirled around to meet her attackers, and her hands started to glow, flashing with silver fire. Twin swords blazed in her hands as she attacked. Steel clashed and fire sizzled as she fought with the strength and grace of the fae, her swords a fluid extension of her arms. The Drakaar fell before her, their heads severed, eyes lifeless.

  She looked at her child. “Run, Aurora.” Her voice was strained. “Run now. I am right behind you.”

  I looked over at my little self, and all the feelings I had suppressed for years came crashing down around me. This was my dream, the one I had relived again and again for months before I came into this world. I longed to rush over and help, but I could not do anything but watch my destiny unfold before me.

  My childhood self obeyed my mother and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, coughing and trying to breathe through the smoke as the flames grew closer. My heart broke as we followed her, unable to do anything but watch a whole family and royal line be extinguished in one night.

  I heard a terrified scream and stopped. I looked up. A wooden beam was poised to come crashing down on the child’s head. But in a flash, my mother was beside my past self, her fae strength and speed the only reason I was alive today. She scooped the child Aurora up in her arms and darted out of the burning room. Part of the room crumbled behind us as the ceiling caved in. Wafts of billowing black smoke chased us, flames licking at our heels.

  Young Aurora clung to her mother’s neck as they ran into a vast stone corridor with massive windows and statues lining the walls. The winter night was void of moonlight, and half-burned torches flickered and died. From within the darkness, sinister black shapes moved toward them, cutting off their escape.

  We stopped, backs to the wall, watching helplessly as I relived my parents’ last day.

  A shadowy figure emerged from the group, holding the curved Dagger with the huge red ruby flashing on its shining golden hilt. It was a woman. Her crimson robes swirled around her like a shroud of blood as she moved toward my mother.

  I would know her anywhere. Morgana!

  “Give her up, Elayna,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper that carried on the wings of a shadow. Her bright, emerald-green eyes flashed with triumph.

  “Never, Morgana.” My mother set me down beside her, still holding my hand. “Stay still, Aurora, and do exactly as I say.”

  Little Aurora nodded her head quickly, understanding only that it was very important to listen to her mother.

  “You cannot escape me, Elayna,” said Morgana. “Give me the child.”

  Morgana was advancing on them, but my mother made no move to run. I wanted to shout at her to escape, not to send me away.

  My childhood self pulled at her hand frantically, trying to do the same thing, to run as fast as we could, but stood rooted to the spot as per my mother’s instructions.

  Morgana’s crimson robes fanned about her as she glided forward, her feet barely touching the ground. She raised her arm, clutching the gleaming Dagger in her clawed fingers.

  My mother closed her eyes, and I knew what she was doing. She was preparing the portal, gathering her magic.

  Suddenly, my mother’s eyes snapped open, flashing silver. She raised both her arms over her head, bringing them down in front of her in one sweeping motion.

  The power she unleashed was immense, ancient.

  My mother moved to shield her child from Morgana, the Dagger still coming for her heart. But an invisible force held little Aurora in its grip; as the portal opened, young Aurora was pulled backward.

  “Nooo!” screeched Morgana, flying at them, and plunged the gleaming Dagger into my mother’s heart.

  A flash of blinding light. My mother disappeared.

  I hung my head and closed my eyes. It was more painful to watch than I had imagined. I turned to Victor. “Let’s go. I’ve seen enough.”

  Victor put his hand gently over my arm. “There’s more.”

  My eyes flew open. This was where my dream had ended.

  “What have you done?” Joreth snarled, hurrying down the corridor toward Morgana. “Where is the child?”

  Morgana spun around to face her father. “I couldn’t help it. Elayna sent her away through a portal before I could get my hands on her.”

  Joreth raised his hand, and his eyes flashed in fury. “Idiot.” He slapped Morgana across her face. “Luckily, I made other arrangements.” He adjusted the sleeves of his robe.

  Joreth snapped his fingers, and the Drakaar assassins dragged a man down the corridor.

  He looked up.

  My voice choked on the word. “Father!”

  I recognized him from the portraits I had seen in Silverthorne Castle. He was bleeding and barely conscious as ropes of dark magic held him in check.

  I took a step forward, but Victor kept his hand firmly on my arm.

  “What is he doing alive?” spat Morgana.

  My father’s face was scarred, and deep gashes had split his arm and leg. His lip was split, but he raised his chin and spoke in a clear voice. “How could you betray your own brother, Morgana?”

  “You are not my brother,” she said and looked away. “Kill him and be done with it.”

  Joreth smiled, looking as sinister as the demon that resided within him. “Not yet. I still need at least one Firedrake alive for what I plan to do. I was intending to keep the child because she would have been easier to control. But now you leave me no choice.”

  “How can I be queen if he is still alive?” Morgana snarled. “He has to die.”

  “And he will, but not right now,” said Joreth. “As far as anyone is concerned, Azaren and his whole family died in the fire at the Star Palace today. You are now Queen of Illiador.”

  He turned to the Drakaar. “Take him away.”

  I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth as my knees threatened to buckle under me. “My father is still alive?”

  Victor nodded. “It seems so.”

  Joreth stopped as if he had heard something and turned to look straight at me. His eyes shone dark as night. He grinned, and a single word escaped his lips. “Dawnstar.”

  Victor’s face paled. “He’s seen us!” His voice sounded panicked. The old druid waved his staff in front of us and the Star Palace disappeared.

  Penelope’s face was white. “What happened?” she said as soon as we reappeared out of the tapestry. “How did he see us?”

  “Who saw you?” Brother Sebastian interrupted. He had been waiting for us in the tapestry room in the tower.

  “Dragath,” said Victor.

  “Did your shield fall?” Sebastian asked.

  “My shield never falls.” Victor gave Sebastian a warning look. “Some
how the demon lord saw us through Joreth’s eyes. The longer Dragath resides within him, the stronger he grows.” He turned to me. “He now knows where you are, and his creatures will come for you. You must leave immediately, there is no time to waste.”

  I grabbed Victor’s arm, and my brows drew together. “Wait! What about my father? I want to see where they took him. We have to go back into the tapestry.” My eyes lit up with the possibilities. “If he is still alive, I can find him.”

  Victor shook his head. “Absolutely not! It is too dangerous. I never expected the tapestry to work like this. Dragath’s power has grown within Joreth—he has become more powerful than before. It will no longer be possible to go unnoticed.”

  Penelope moved past me and blocked Victor’s path. “You should have told us.” Her eyes flashed dangerously, sharp as steel. “So that we were prepared.”

  Brother Victor sighed. “I would have if I knew how it worked. He shouldn’t have seen us. No one else could except Dragath himself.” He gave me a pointed look. “And it is important the Dawnstar has all the necessary information needed to defeat the Dark Lord.”

  “But now you must go,” Brother Sebastian interrupted. “You need to take back the Dagger before Joreth has a chance to use it.”

  “How can I if I don’t know where he is?”

  Victor looked at Brother Sebastian as if trying to make a decision. “We will try the scrying table again. Come.”

  We descended the stone tower, and Victor led us back to the library and to the room at the back where the scrying table was located.

  “Joreth must be somewhere in the center of his army. Getting to him will be extremely difficult,” said Rafe.

  “But not impossible,” I added.

  “No, not impossible.” Penelope wrung her hands. “But when we saw him earlier with Andromeda, he didn’t seem to be with his army—only a few soldiers and Drakaar. If we can figure out where he is, we may be able to get to the Dagger before he rejoins his army. We need to see the area where he is camped.”

  Victor waved his staff and the fog in the scrying table shifted slightly and reformed. It showed us a small encampment at the foot of a gigantic mountain range, a twilight glow blanketing the valley.

  “That is dwarven territory,” gasped Penelope, inspecting the rocky landscape that lay before us. “Those are not the Cascade Mountains. They are the Silverspike Mountains.”

  Rafe put his hands on the edge of the table, his sharp eyes scanning the scrying table. “Stonegate.”

  Penelope rubbed her hand over her face. “What could be so important he would leave his army and go so far into dwarven territory?”

  Victor waved his staff over the table, and the fog changed.

  Joreth was still in his tent when the tent flap opened and a guard came in. “You have a visitor, general.”

  Joreth nodded. “Send him in.”

  A short, squat man with a broad chest and clipped brown beard came into the tent.

  “A dwarf,” said Victor, his eyes narrowing. He rested his hands on the edge of the table and peered carefully at the scene within it.

  “That’s Drimli, Ranthor’s cousin,” Rafe said, recognizing the newcomer. “What’s he doing there?”

  “Maybe he has come to negotiate?” offered Brother Sebastian.

  Penelope shot a dark look at the druid. “Ranthor would never negotiate. He knows Stonegate can’t be breached.”

  “I think we might have a problem,” said Victor, his gaze fixated on the events unfolding hundreds of miles away.

  We looked back to the table. “Wait for the signal by the western gate,” Drimli said. “You can enter from there.”

  Joreth smiled. “And you are sure Ranthor has Silverthorne’s key?”

  Drimli grinned. “The old mage believed this to be the best place to hide it. Once I get rid of my cousin, Ranthor, you shall have the key you seek.”

  Joreth and Drimli shook hands.

  “I think you will make a perfect new king for the dwarves, Drimli.”

  Drimli nodded briskly and left.

  I drew back as if I had been slapped. “The last key to the Book of Abraxas is in Stonegate.”

  “And Joreth found the only way Stonegate can be breached,” said Rafe, his eyes sharp as he drew back from the table. “Betrayal.”

  Penelope turned to Rafe and me, her eyes like ice chips. “We have to warn Ranthor. There isn’t much time. We need to leave now.”

  Rafe’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “We will never reach them in time, Penelope. You cannot create a portal over such a distance.” He looked at me. “Aurora could have done it, but that was before . . .”

  I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “Before what?” I snapped. “Say it, Rafe, everybody else does.”

  Rafe shook his head. “I wasn’t blaming you, Aurora, I was merely stating a fact. If you had all your magic, you could have portaled there immediately.”

  I hung my head, disgusted with myself at my sudden and unruly outburst. I knew he wasn’t blaming me, but every time someone reminded me of what I had lost, a great sadness and pain welled up inside me in the place where my magic had been.

  “Because of Dragath’s curse you cannot portal off this island anyway,” Victor interrupted. “You would have to return to the mainland by ship and then portal from there. And now that he knows where you are, all the Drakwraiths left here to keep trespassers off the island will be looking for you. They will be waiting for you near the harbor and along the coast. Your ship will not have any survivors.”

  Penelope flashed a worried look at me. “If Drimli lets Joreth into the fortress, all will be lost. Once he has the last key to the Book of Abraxas, there will be nothing stopping him from raising the Dark Lord. And now that we know he has Azaren, he doesn’t need Aurora’s blood to break Dragath’s bonds. He will kill Azaren and raise the demon lord along with all his powers.”

  “We have to get there somehow.” I clenched my hands into fists. “I am not going to let him kill my father.”

  “Once Dragath rises, he will use the Dagger to open a portal to the demon world and let his whole army through,” said Penelope to the druid. “We need to retrieve the Dagger, whatever the cost.”

  The old druid did not look surprised. “I know of the true use of the Dagger of Dragath, but I never believed we would come to this. And now with your magic within the Dagger . . .” He shook his head and never finished his sentence.

  My eyes narrowed into shards of steel as I addressed the old druid. “There has to be a way to get my magic back from the Dagger before he can use it to open the portal.”

  Victor raised both his eyebrows. “There is, but you will not like it.”

  I felt a chill scuttle down my spine, but I squared my shoulders nonetheless. Whatever it was, I would deal with it. “Tell me.”

  Victor held my gaze without blinking. “The only way to retrieve your magic from the Dark Dagger is to be stabbed by the Dagger itself.”

  Silence pervaded every breath of air in the room. It was as if the world stood still.

  Rafe spoke in a whisper. “There has to be another way.”

  The old druid rubbed his neck and looked up at the ceiling, as if searching for answers from some higher power. “I’m afraid there isn’t.” Victor turned his eyes on me, and his tone softened. “While the Dagger is embedded in your body, theoretically, it may be possible for you to pull your magic back into yourself.” He paused. “Mind you, it won’t be easy. The Dagger will fight you for the magic. It was created to absorb fae magic, not give it back, and it will not give it up freely. You will have to fight for it. But it can be done.”

  “And what if Aurora fails?” Penelope asked.

  I leaned forward, holding my hands tightly together to stop them from shaking.

  Victor’s eyes narrowed. “Then the Dawnstar will die.”

  The Siege of Stonegate

  I took a deep breath and steeled myself. “I can do it.”

/>   I could not allow the general to use my magic to open such a portal. Even if it meant giving up my life so the world would be safe, I was prepared to do it. Although I wasn’t really sure how I would find the courage to face the Dagger when the time came.

  “But we still need to get there in time,” said Penelope. “He already has Azaren and the Dagger. Once he gets the key, he will waste no time starting the ritual to raise Dragath. We must get the Dagger back before that happens.”

  I looked at Penelope. “Maybe we could contact my grandmother through a mirror portal and tell her to send the griffins.”

  Penelope shook her head. “That won’t work. I’ve already tried. No kind of fae portals work on this island. Joreth made sure of that.”

  Ashara entered the library where we were gathered. “Kalen is awake.”

  My shoulders sagged with relief.

  Ashara gave me a sharp look. “He wants to see his mother.”

  I sat down, my hands in my lap, my spine stiff. “Go to him, Penelope. We will handle this.”

  Sebastian got up. “I will go with you. I need to check on him anyway.”

  Penelope nodded, her eyes brighter than I had seen them in days. She rose and followed Sebastian to the infirmary. I was glad Kalen was going to be all right, but we still had a long road ahead of us.

  Victor rubbed the day-old stubble on his chin as he eyed Ashara, who had just joined us. “Maybe no fae portals can work on this island. But Joreth never imagined the witches would get involved.” He addressed Ashara. “Could you create a witchstone portal to Stonegate?”

  “Yes, I have been there before,” she said with a nod. “But it will take some time.”

  “Do it,” said Victor. “Time is the one thing we don’t have.”

  “Ashara, are you sure you can create such a powerful witchstone?” Tristan questioned.

  “Of course I can,” Ashara scoffed, her eyes narrowing. “Do you doubt my abilities, fae?”

  “Frequently,” said Tristan, turning back to Victor. “How do we get into Stonegate and warn Ranthor?”

  “Leave that to me,” said Rafe. “I know a secret way into Stonegate. It is magically protected to only open for the Ravenswood bloodline.”