The Return of the Dragon Queen

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  Vivienne opened her hand. The last key to the Book of Abraxas rested within it. He wasn’t lying—they already had everything they needed. Well, almost everything.

  From behind the pillars and the shadowy arches, more shapes emerged. They surrounded us, and I recognized who they were instantly: dark fae, over a dozen of them. We were completely outnumbered.

  I straightened my shoulders. I needed answers. “Where is my father?” I demanded. “What have you done with him?”

  Joreth raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I realized you had been poking around in the past. It’s a wonder that foolish druid Victor managed to get the tapestry to work in the first place.” Joreth traced the Dagger in the air beside him, and a portal started to open. “It doesn’t matter where your father is. He won’t be alive for long.” He paused and looked at me. “Soon my true form will be restored, and my demon army will join me. I don’t need you anymore.” He glanced at the dark fae. “Kill her. Kill them all.”

  Tristan stood in front of me, his swords flashing with silver fire. Ashara was on my other side, her staff steady in her hands, the jewels on top glowing, ready for battle.

  Rafe drew his sword and took up a fighting stance beside me.

  Joreth raised an eyebrow. “It won’t do you any good. I have already won.” He sneered. “How do you like my latest creations?” He gestured toward the dark fae. “Not even you, Prince Tristan, can defeat so many dark fae on your own.”

  “Maybe.” Tristan’s eyes narrowed, and his ears twitched. I could tell his fae hearing had picked up something the others had not. His lips turned up in a sardonic smile as he looked at Joreth. “But it seems I’m not as alone as you think.”

  Two dark fae heads rolled toward us out of the darkness, eyes hollow, mouths open in silent screams.

  “No, you are not alone, Tristan,” said a High Fae warrior stepping out of the shadows. Cade and Farrell flanked him on both sides. “The Elite never are.”

  “Aiden.” Tristan’s lips curved upward. “Good to see you.”

  The Prince of the Day Court stepped into the light, his fair hair glinting and twin swords blazing in both hands. Aiden and I might not have seen eye to eye, but I was more than relieved to see him. The blond-haired High Fae was an exceptional warrior, nearly as powerful as Tristan, and part of Izadora’s elite band of fire-fae warriors, the scourge of the Drakaar.

  Joreth’s obsidian eyes widened when he saw the Elite fae warriors. “Kill them!” he shouted and quickly stepped through the portal with Vivienne and Skye. The portal shut behind them.

  “With pleasure,” Tristan growled, flashing the dark fae a wolfish grin. His muscles rippled, magic of the night rolling off him in waves, a darker magic reserved only for the royal Nightshade bloodline. I remembered what Penelope had said about the original Nightshade prince, the fae lord with exceptional powers who summoned Dragath to this world. I shuddered at the thought of the power that ran through Tristan’s veins. The dark prince’s swords burned brightly, lighting up with a silver fire hotter and more potent than I had ever seen him produce.

  There was a reason Tristan Nightshade was a legend, as he demonstrated when he pounced on the nearest dark fae and the battle for Stonegate began.

  The dark fae swords lit up, casting an eerie red hue on the great stone hall, and a burning smell of fire meeting fire filled the air as red and silver swords clashed, sending out sparks of magic. The air around us was charged with power, as any remaining dwarven soldiers scurried out of the way, huddled in a corner with no way out, protecting their traitorous leader.

  “Don’t let Drimli get away!” shouted Penelope.

  Rafe rushed to assist her.

  I followed, but a dark fae with serrated teeth like those of a gorgoth came at me, sword raised. Although the dark fae looked like High Fae, they were abominations, and their magic felt wrong, like it wasn’t meant to be. Made by dark magic and raised by the Drakaar, the dark fae had nothing of the High Fae in them. Their demon side was dominant, but they had the magic of a fire-fae warrior. I swung Dawn upward and braced my legs. My arms shuddered, but my dwarven-made sword stood firm against the dark magic of Dragath’s servant. But the dark fae had the same strength as a High Fae, and he pushed me back. I staggered and my grip loosened, my sword clattering to the ground. Dark eyes glowed red as I reached for my sword, but it was too far. The creature raised his weapon, but before he could lower it, a sword of flashing silver severed his head and his body fell at my feet.

  I looked up at a mop of red hair framing a familiar face. “Miss me?” Cade grinned as he bent down and pulled me to my feet.

  I smiled at my old friend. “Always, Cade.” I lunged for my sword. It was always good to see Cade, but this time I was more grateful than ever before to see him. If they hadn’t come, we might not have made it.

  The dark fae were no match for Izadora’s Elite Guard; they might have had the same strength and magic, but that was no replacement for the centuries of experience, battles, and victories Tristan and the Elite had been through. Soon the throne room of the palace at Stonegate was littered with the bodies of Dragath’s minions.

  Aiden had the traitor Drimli by the throat, his short legs flailing about as the massive fae warrior lifted him up like he was a rag doll. Aiden shot the dwarf a disgusted look. “What do you want me to do with him?” he asked me.

  For a moment I was stunned when all eyes turned on me. The Prince of the Day Court had made it clear he supported me as Izadora’s heir and looked to me for orders. Aiden might not have liked me, but he was always loyal to the crown of Elfi.

  Tristan came forward, his sword still flashing silver fire. “There is only one punishment for a traitor.”

  Ashara nodded. She, too, was bloodthirsty when it came to doling out punishments.

  The guards brought out King Ranthor’s body and laid it reverently on the table in the grand hall. Rafe stepped forward and inspected the body. “It’s him,” he confirmed.

  Drimli struggled in his bonds. “I told you he’s dead,” he spat, struggling as Aiden tightened his grip on the traitor’s throat. “I’m the rightful King of Stonegate now; you cannot do this to me.”

  Rafe stalked over to the traitor, his hand on his sword. “You are not king yet, Drimli.” His eyes narrowed as he regarded the situation. “Drimli is Ranthor’s cousin and not first in line to the throne. Ranthor has a son, Prince Mirin. He is now the rightful King of Stonegate and all the dwarven cities.” He shot Drimli a disgusted look. “Where is he?”

  Aiden dropped the dwarven traitor to the ground so he could speak. He clutched his throat, hidden by his long beard, and sneered at Rafe. “Also dead!” he spat. “And you all will be too, once the Dark Lord is done with you.”

  Aiden punched him in the stomach, and he doubled over.

  But one of the dwarven guards stepped forward. They had all surrendered and had been disarmed. “He lies. The boy king lives. After Drimli killed King Ranthor, Mirin slipped out of the palace before he could kill him too.”

  “Shut up!” growled Drimli, shooting the guard a wild look. “The boy’s a coward. He’s not fit to be king. He ran at the first sign of trouble. That throne belongs to me!”

  Rafe glanced at me and scowled. “He will kill the boy when he gets his hands on him. I have seen his kind before.”

  It was still hard for me to sentence someone to death, even though I knew this was war. We could not allow a traitor like this to turn the tide. He had already cost us dearly. I had to think like a queen, and that meant making tough choices.

  I pushed my shoulders back and nodded once to Tristan. “Do it.”

  He raised his sword and severed the dwarf’s head from his body.

  I turned my head away. Sometimes the right decision was the hardest one to make.

  Penelope turned to Cade. “Find the boy-king Mirin and secure the fortress until help arrives. We must go after the Dagger.”

  “That might be difficult,” said Aiden. “No help is coming.
The war has already begun.”

  My eyes widened in shock. “But Joreth was just here in Stonegate.”

  Penelope shook her head. “Joreth has his own agenda, it seems.”

  Aiden nodded. “I’m afraid I don’t have good news. Morgana’s forces have amassed in the Valley of Flowers. Silverthorne’s forces have blocked the Eastern Pass in the Cascade Mountains, but they won’t hold it for long. The general had a second, much larger force hiding in the Darkwood. Morgana’s forces outnumber us ten to one, and her army is still gathering.” He shook his head; I had never seen Aiden look so defeated. “There are too many of them. Without help, we cannot win this war.”

  “What about the Brandorians and the witches?” I asked, horrified at what had already occurred. “Is Santino all right? Have the Council of Five agreed to send reinforcements to Eldoren?”

  “Santino is fine,” said Cade, stepping in. “The Council of Five does not exist anymore. He has invoked the old title of Sultan and has taken over Brandor.”

  Penelope’s eyes widened. “How?”

  “The Detoris attacked the Red Citadel and killed Roderigo Valasis,” Aiden explained. “Santino avenged his father and took down the Detori family, killing Darius and Shiraz Detori. The other emirs have surrendered to him. He is now the undisputed Sultan of Brandor and commands all of its armies.”

  I smiled. I knew Santino would come through. Even without magic, the pirate prince was a force to be reckoned with, and I was glad he was on our side.

  “That is good news, at least,” said Penelope. “If Santino’s forces and the witches join Silverthorne’s army, we may have a chance.”

  Aiden shook his head. “It may be too late.”

  “It’s not over yet.” I stepped forward and looked at Rafe. “I’m going after the Dagger.”

  Rafe shot me a dark look. “Not alone you’re not.”

  My jaw tightened. “You have to go back to Eldoren and defend your kingdom, Rafe. But I cannot come with you. If Joreth has my father, I have to get there before he uses the Dagger on him.”

  Rafe held me gently by the arms and looked into my eyes. “I will never leave you to do this alone, Aurora. I’m coming with you, whether you want me to or not.”

  Penelope’s eyes looked dull as she regarded me. “We may not make it in time.” She wrung her hands. “It is virtually impossible to open a portal anywhere near Mount Khatral. It is protected by the darkest of magics.”

  “Are you sure that is where he has gone?” I asked.

  Penelope nodded. “Yes. Now that Joreth has everything he needs, he will not waste time beginning the ritual. He needs Dragath’s tomb in order to start.”

  I went over the options. “Can we portal close by?”

  Penelope nodded. “We can portal to the outer boundaries.” She looked over at Tristan. “There will be Drakaar guarding the gates to the Dark Fortress; we will need your help.”

  “Not a problem,” he confirmed.

  Penelope turned a stern eye on Rafe. “You must return to the battle and help Silverthorne. You need to protect your kingdom—Morgana must not be allowed to take Eldoren.” She shot a glance at Cade. “Take the Elite with you.”

  Rafe crossed his arms, and frozen rage dulled his handsome features. “There is no way I am letting Aurora do this without me. And have you forgotten? Besides Aurora, I’m the only one who can touch the Dagger without being pulled in.”

  A shadow crossed my face. I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, yet although I wanted to do this on my own, I knew I would have a much better chance of succeeding if they came with me. I let my gaze settle on Rafe. “Then you must promise me you will rescue my father and get him to safety.”

  “I will do what I can, but—” he came closer, putting his hand on my arm, “—I’m not leaving you.”

  I put my hand on his chest. “Please, Rafe, I have to get the Dagger. But I can only do that if I know someone else is going to protect my father. I’ve come so far; I cannot watch him die today.”

  Penelope stepped forward. “I will protect Azaren with my life. You and Rafe concentrate on getting the Dagger. Besides the two of you, none of us can touch it. Tristan and Ashara will handle the Drakaar. But we must leave immediately. There is no time to waste.”

  I nodded. I had to trust she would do as she said. I had no other choice. Once Dragath had awakened his full powers, he would use the Dagger to create the portal to his world and bring his demon army through to destroy us all.

  Just then, I felt an icy wind behind me, and Penelope’s eyes widened in shock.

  Before I knew what was happening, an arm appeared out of thin air behind me and wrapped itself around my neck.

  “Aurora!” shouted Rafe as he ran toward me.

  But it was too late.

  The last thing I saw was the horrified look on his face as I was pulled swiftly backward through a void.

  A flash of light blinded me as the portal closed and I fell back into darkness.

  The Dark Fortress

  Red fire burned in the sconces on the wall, bathing the pitch-black stone in an eerie red light. I pushed myself up from the floor and found myself standing in a dark dungeon. Joreth stood before me, the Dagger in his hand. The curved, twisted blade was a black pit of darkness that consumed everything it touched.

  Joreth’s smile was menacing and lethal. A chill settled in my very bones. His obsidian eyes glistened as he regarded me. There was no more of the man Joreth left. The demon lord had full possession of his mind and movements. “So, you and your fae friends managed to take back Stonegate. Impressive, but it won’t do you any good.”

  My hands tightened into fists as I faced him and tried to gather some semblance of magic to shield me from whatever he had planned. I had no idea where I was, and my friends were gone. There was no Tristan or Rafe to get me out of this now. I was alone.

  “How did you open the portal to bring me here?”

  He held up the Dagger in his hand, inspecting it with a manic gleam in his eyes. “You would be surprised at the things the Dagger can do now. Your magic was the key to unlocking its full potential. Finally, the Dagger will do what it was created to do. Once I have my body and all my powers back, I will bring my army here and rule Avalonia for all eternity.”

  I wove a mage shield around myself as dread coiled in my gut. I looked around, but there was no way out. “My friends will come. They will stop you.”

  Dragath chuckled, the sound grating my bones. “They will not make it in time. No one can open a portal within the Dark Fortress—only the Dagger can. In any case, the whole fortress is surrounded by Drakaar, should your friends be foolish enough to come.”

  Footsteps scuffed closer, and Dragath turned to the entrance of the dungeon. Lilith was holding a chain and dragging another prisoner in behind her. His hair was matted, and a rough beard covered his features. He looked weak, barely able to walk as Lilith pushed him forward. He staggered to one knee but managed to push himself up. The prisoner’s face was weathered, gaunt, and pale. But his eyes shone as they regarded me, focused, clear, and emerald-green—the eyes of a Firedrake.

  There was no mistaking it—he was the same man I saw in the tapestry with the druid. “Father!” My heart swelled with the sight of him. It was true. My father was alive. I would know him anywhere.

  “Aurora!” His voice was rough, unused.

  Tears threatened to fall as I rushed forward to hug my father for the very first time since I could remember. I couldn’t believe it as I clung to him. At least I got to see him this one last time. My father hugged me back. His body was frail and weak, but I could feel within him an indomitable will, one that had kept him alive in the most horrific circumstances.

  Azaren Firedrake took my hands in his. His face was beaten and bruised. Even after all these years of imprisonment, it looked like he still put up a fight. When he looked at me, his eyes shone with hope. “Your mother would be so proud,” he said gently.

  My heart constricted
at the thought of my mother and the faith she had in me. I had failed her. I had failed everyone.

  “Touching,” Dragath interrupted as dark shadows snaked out of his hands and pulled us apart.

  My father’s eyes turned to shards of steel as he regarded Dragath. “Why did you bring her here, Dragath? You have me. Let my daughter go.”

  Dragath’s lips curved upward in a sinister smile. “Oh, but why would I do that?” A whip of dark magic exploded from his hands, pushing my father back and pinning him to the wall. With his other hand his dark power coiled around me as an unbearable pressure brought me to my knees. “True, I don’t need both of you, but leaving one Firedrake alive was never the plan. Tonight I will finish what I started. When the sun sets over the mountains on this day, the Firedrake line will be wiped out forever.”

  I pushed against the magical bonds, but to no avail. We were trapped and absolutely at Dragath’s mercy.

  “It seems my dear Lilith here has a score to settle with both of you. So I will leave her to it.” Dragath shot a dark look at Lilith. “Have your fun, but don’t kill them yet.” He released the bonds, and I dropped onto the cold hard floor, panting. “I will make preparations for the ritual.”

  Dragath left the dungeon, his booted feet thumping on the stone floor, leaving my father and me at the mercy of the Dark Queen. Although she looked like Vivienne, the darkness that enveloped her eyes had started to spread in black veins out of her eye sockets and down her face, marring it and giving her a gruesome visage. It was as if my friend’s body could not contain the evil of the demon within as it ate away at her soul, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

  I willed myself not to shake as the Dark Queen approached. A sinister silence filled the dungeons as Lilith smirked at me in Vivienne’s body and dark shadows reached out, binding me in a viselike grip. The dark bonds writhed around me like snakes and tightened. A blinding pain tore through my body.

  With her other hand, Lilith held my father back with magic.