Racing With Dragons: The Mapmaker's Sons, Book 1

by V. L. Burgess

  He pivoted to face the third and final sentry. Then man studied him with new appreciation. With a cocky grin, he hefted his sword and stepped toward him. Tom thrust his hand into his jeans pocket as though to withdraw a weapon, hoping the feint would buy him a second or two, when his fingers came upon a small, soft pouch. A plan—bred of pure desperation—took root in his mind. He waited a beat, his back against the wall, as the sentry moved toward him. Then, when he could almost feel the man’s hot breath upon his cheek, he sprayed the pouch’s fine, powdery contents directly in his face.

  The sentry howled and stumbled backward, careening blindly away from him. Just as the swamp dogs had done when they’d received their dose of pepper powder.

  Tom shoved past him and dove on the wooden lever. It wouldn’t budge. He tugged harder, then harder still. No movement. Redoubling his efforts, he leaned on the release, shoving it toward the floor with all his might. Slowly the lever moved. Inch by tortuous inch. Outside, the enormous wooden gates groaned open.

  The Djembe battle-roar filled the night air. Aiy-aiy-aiy-aiy! The warriors flooded through the gates and poured into the market square. Their iridescent armor glistened in the moonlight, giving them the fearsome appearance of an army of wrathful ghosts. The battle was underway.

  Tom retrieved Porter’s dagger from where it had fallen and spun around, intending to scale down the tower before the sentries recovered, but a solitary figure blocked his way.

  “Thought you might be in a bit of a spot here, lad. But it looks like you’ve learned to take care of yourself.”

  Umbrey.

  Tom blinked. “How’d you get in here? Where’s your grappling hook?”

  “My grappling hook?” Umbrey studied him in confusion, then a slow smile of comprehension broke across his face. “While I do love a dramatic entrance, I thought it’d be easier if I took the stairs this time.” He slid back a plank in the floor to reveal a circular metal staircase, similar to the kind found in lighthouses.

  Of course. Tom nodded, feeling foolish. It hadn’t occurred to him to consider how Keegan’s guards made it to the top of the tower.

  “I figured you and Porter would be coming through these gates,” Umbrey continued, “and I thought you might need a hand.” The Djembe battle cries echoed off the stone walls. Turning away, Umbrey moved to an opening in the wall and shot a glance at the scene below. “Friends of yours?”

  “Gregor’s knights. We found them.”

  “Did you now? I’m impressed.”

  Tom nodded, silent. Although Umbrey’s face was hidden in shadow, something about his tone wasn’t right. Apprehension knotted his gut. Through battle, blood, and betrayal. The words of the prophecy suddenly echoed through his mind. His palm throbbed.

  “What's going on?” he asked. “Is everything all right?”

  Umbrey answered the question with one of his own. “The dragon?”

  “We found her.”

  “Excellent.”

  “But there’s something you should know. She’s not—”

  “Later, lad.”

  “But—”

  “Later, I said! Where is she?”

  Tom gestured vaguely toward the wooded river bank where Smudge and Willa waited.

  “Well? What are you waiting for?” Umbrey squinted into the darkness. “Take me to her.”

  “Now?”

  “Of course now. What better time is there?”

  Umbrey—moving at remarkable speed for a one-legged man—shot down the circular staircase. Upon reaching the base of the tower, he threw open the door to reveal a world pitched into chaos. The battle raged all around them. The Watch and the Djembe surged against each other like two swirling tides, swords clashing, lances thrusting, locked in deadly hand-to-hand combat.

  The din of blade striking blade, shrieks of rage and groans of pain, was deafening. Blood seeped into the cobbled stone ground. Bodies of the dead and wounded had already begun to litter the courtyard. The brutality of the fight was worse than Tom could ever have imagined.

  He staggered to a stop, temporarily thrown off-balance by the nightmarish quality of the scene. His thoughts ricocheted in panicked disorder. Were the Djembe winning? Or had they already lost to The Watch? Impossible to say. Porter. Willa. Where were they? His brother wasn’t bad in a fight. But in this chaos? That was something different altogether. What if one of them was hurt? Needed Tom’s help? He gazed around wildly, searching for a glimpse of them.

  Umbrey gave him a shove to get him moving. “The dragon, lad!”

  With no time to think, Tom allowed himself to be shoved back through the gates. He and Umbrey skidded to a stop before a wide-eyed Smudge. Half-hidden behind him, trembling in what looked like fear, was Hyster.

  Umbrey’s jaw dropped. “No. It can’t be.”

  “I tried to tell you,” Tom said.

  “That’s the ferocious beast? That cowering creature is the great and deadly Hyster, ruler of fire and fury? Beast of vengeance? Guardian of the meek and mild?”

  “I guess she mellowed a bit.”

  “Mellowed a bit!?” Umbrey roared. “Do you have any idea what—” He stopped abruptly and drew in a deep breath. Ran a hand over his stubbled chin. “No. Nevermind. She’ll have to do. Bring her with.”

  “Bring her with? Where? What are you talking about?”

  “Keegan’s domain, lad. We’re bringing her there.”

  “No!” Smudge shouted, throwing a protective arm around Hyster. “We’re supposed to wait at the boat until Porter and Willa return!”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Wait a minute,” Tom said. “What are you talking about?”

  “Porter and the girl were taken as soon as they moved through the gates.Your brother tried to fight back, but it was useless. Porter’s hurt—it’s bad, lad. And now Keegan has him.”

  Panic seized Tom. Porter was hurt. Badly hurt. Their plan—that during the chaos of battle Porter and Willa would be able to sneak into Keegan’s domain and seize the sword—hadn’t worked.

  “Where are they?” he asked.

  “Keegan's private quarters. I'll show you the way.”

  Tom grabbed Umbrey's arm as he turned to go. “Wait, we can't. That’s not the plan—”

  “Not the plan? Are you daft?” Umbrey's face darkened. “Didn't you understand me? Keegan has your brother.”

  “I know! But we can't risk losing—”

  “What, the dragon?! You'd choose that cowering beast over your own brother?”

  Tom shook his head. His fists clenched and unclenched. “There must be another way.”

  “Not if you want to see Porter and that girl alive.”

  From the corner of his eye, Tom caught a flash of black and the glint of a blade. The Watch. Reacting instinctively, he wheeled around and swung Porter’s dagger to block the man's knife. The guard, caught by surprise, staggered backward. Not missing a beat, Umbrey drove his knee into the man's groin. The guard uttered a low moan, then collapsed.

  Umbrey let out a sigh of satisfaction, then turned and studied Tom appraisingly. “Appears you have learned a thing or two.”

  “Umbrey—”

  “Listen, lad. The only thing we have to bargain with is Hyster. Keegan doesn't care if Porter lives or dies, but he wants that dragon. If we go to him without her, Porter's a dead man. The girl won’t fare any better. So are we going to use that creature as bait to save their lives, or aren't we?”

  Tom’s gaze cut to Smudge. Panic shook the boy’s eyes as he edged closer to the dragon, as though intent on protecting the beast. Tom hesitated for a fraction of a second, but there was really no choice in the matter. He reached for the dragon. Hyster lifted her head, narrowed her eyes, and emitted a low, menacing growl. Tom stopped. He spread his arms wide, a gesture he hoped would convey he meant no threat.

  “Smudge,” he said, his eyes trained on the dragon. “We don’t have a choice. You heard Umbrey. We have to do this.”

  Smudge shook his head.
>
  “You don’t want Willa hurt, do you?”

  “No, but—”

  “If we go together, Hyster will follow.” At least he hoped so. For some reason, the dragon had formed an immediate and intense bond with the boy. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”

  A promise he had no way of keeping, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. Smudge hesitated a beat longer. With one final, guilty look at Hyster, he drew in a shuddering breath and nodded. “What do we do?”

  “Follow me.” Umbrey said. “Hurry.”

  They raced toward the gates. Behind them, Hyster crouched low, then bounded skyward, disappearing into the night. Maybe she would follow them, maybe she wouldn’t. Either way, they had to get to Porter and Willa.

  He and Smudge sped after Umbrey as the one-legged man tore through the chaos surrounding them. In the market square, townspeople had taken up arms against Keegan’s guard. Battles raged on every corner, panicked livestock raced through the streets, carts were overturned and set ablaze. It was a scene of utter devastation—until they reached their destination.

  Eerie stillness hung over Keegan’s private quarters. Torch lights flickered, illuminating the main door. After the wild pandemonium engulfing the rest of the city, the regal calm of Keegan’s personal domain was profoundly disturbing. But the quiet conveyed something else. A message so clear there was no way for Tom to miss it.

  They were expected.

  Tom pulled to a stop, gulping air, attempting to steady his rocketing pulse. But his pulse refused to be stilled. He scanned the sky, but couldn’t see Hyster. The dragon was nowhere to be found.

  “Wait.” Umbrey’s gaze found his, his expression hard and tight. He placed a hand on his arm. “Before we go in, lad, there’s something you should know—”

  Whatever he might have said was lost as Willa’s scream tore through the night air.

  Tom jerked away from Umbrey’s grasp, threw open the door, and raced inside.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  KEEGAN

  “Welcome, Tom. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Keegan sat in a lone chair in the center of a vast hall, a tall scepter gripped in his right hand. He wore no crown, but it wasn’t necessary. There was no question of who was in command. Flanking him on both sides were a dozen members of The Watch. Keegan’s elite personal guard. They stood at attention, their tall black boots highly polished, their black cloaks tossed loosely over their shoulders and secured with Keegan’s all-seeing red eye. They wore their hoods up, obscuring their faces, which served to give them an even more sinister appearance.

  Two additional members of The Watch stood to the left of Keegan’s chair. Each of them in turn gripped the arm of a hostage. Porter. Willa.

  Tom’s gaze shot to his friends. Their hair and clothing was tussled, but Tom saw no evidence of blood or bruises. Umbrey had said that Porter had been badly injured, yet Tom could see no sign of that. To his relief, just the opposite was true.

  Porter stood with his boots planted firmly on the ground, an expression of raw fury on his face. They were held against their will, but neither of them appeared seriously hurt. At least not yet. Behind him, Smudge raced across the room and threw his arms around Willa’s waist.

  Tom cast a questioning glance at Umbrey, but Umbrey looked straight ahead, his focus locked on Keegan and his guards.

  For a moment, no one moved. Then Keegan set aside his scepter and rose to his feet.

  “Thomas Hawkins,” he said.

  He was dressed as elegantly as he’d been when Tom had first seen him. Fur-lined cape, crisp white shirt, burgundy vest. Dark slacks and meticulously shined boots.

  “The lost twin.” Keegan gave a thoughtful nod as he silently surveyed Tom. “It is Thomas, is it not? Or do you prefer Tom?”

  Tom said nothing.

  “The quiet type, are you?”

  Tom continued to glare.

  Keegan chuckled. “Remarkable. I have been waiting twelve years, three hundred and sixty-four days, twenty-three hours, and assorted dismal minutes for this moment to arrive. And here we are. I must say, now that we finally meet in person, it’s a bit anticlimactic.”

  Umbrey stepped forward and bowed to Keegan. “The mapmaker’s sons. Brought to you before their thirteenth birthday. As promised.”

  Keegan’s gaze flicked to Umbrey. “Indeed. You’ve earned your gold.” He removed a small pouch and tossed it to him. “I believe we may now consider the balance paid in full.”

  Tom sucked in his breath. Umbrey. Too late, the pieces of the prophecy fell into place. Battle, blood, and betrayal. He’d almost figured it out, but he’d been too slow. Fueled by rage, with Porter’s curses ringing in his ears, he lunged for Umbrey. Two members of The Watch caught him and pulled him off.

  “Such a waste of time, Tom. Tedious, really.” Keegan clucked his tongue. “But in my excitement, I’ve gotten ahead of myself. There was a point to all this, wasn’t there?” He cocked his head to one side, as though lost in thought. Then he brightened. “Ah, yes! Now I remember. The dragon.”

  Tom’s gaze shot to Porter. His brother gave a small shake of his head. Tom said, “We didn’t find it.”

  Keegan turned sharply. “What was that?”

  “We didn’t find it.”

  Keegan frowned, then looked at the guards who held Tom’s arms. At his silent signal, one of them caught Tom around the throat and lifted him so that his toes dangled above the floor, cutting off his air supply.

  “We didn’t find it, Sire,” Keegan corrected. “If you’re going to lie to me, please have the courtesy to do it respectfully.”

  Struggling to breathe, Tom stared into his feverish eyes. Lunatic. Sociopath. Keegan stared back at him, then nodded at his guard. The man released him. Tom fell to his knees. His throat raw, he dragged in painful gulps of air.

  “Stand before me,” Keegan ordered.

  Tom rose. Keegan turned his attention toward Porter, Willa, and Smudge. The guards thrust them forward. Carefully watching Tom’s reaction, Keegan wove between them, drawing one long, talon-like nail across the throat of each of his friends.

  “I think we’ll begin,” Keegan drawled at length, “with him.”

  The guard dragged Porter closer and shoved him onto his knees. Keegan strode to a cabinet and removed an ornate wooden case. Lifted the gold-crested lid. Within it glittered a long, lethal-looking sword. Embedded in the hilt were five brilliant, multi-colored stones. Tom drew in a sharp breath.

  “Recognize it, do you?” Keegan smiled. He removed the blade and held it aloft. “The Sword of Five Kingdoms. A sword of unlimited power and beauty. Wizard made and wizard blessed. I presume you’re familiar with the legend. Whoever wields the sword—that would be me—holds the power to rule all creatures of this earth. Including dragons.”

  He paused, looking around the room with an expression of mock astonishment. “Yet I see no dragon here.”

  “We didn’t find—”

  “Ah, ah, ah. Careful.” Keegan moved to stand beside Porter. “You may be interested in a swap. Your friends’ lives for the dragon. A bad trade, in my opinion, as they appear utterly worthless to me. But they may hold some sentimental value to you.”

  “Don’t do it!” Porter grit out.

  Keegan flicked one of his talon-like nails, lightly nicking Porter’s cheek. A trickle of blood dripped onto his collar.

  “No!” Willa and Smudge screamed. Whether they were urging Tom not to admit they’d found the dragon, or urging Keegan not to cut Porter, or both, was impossible to tell.

  Tom clenched his teeth, his blood roaring in his ears.

  Keegan arched one dark brow. He gave a sharp bark of laughter. “You hesitate! A gross miscalculation on my part. Maybe this is exactly what you wanted all along.” He moved closer to Tom. “It must burn, doesn’t it? The knowledge that your parents chose him over you. I suppose you’ve wanted him dead for years. I know I would have.”

  Tom glared at him in powerle
ss rage.

  “Give me the dragon. Tell me where you’ve hidden it and you all walk free. Or you can choose to watch your friends die, one by one. And then I’ll find the creature anyway, making your petty sacrifice utterly meaningless.”

  “Do as he says, lad,” Umbrey urged.

  Keegan’s gaze flicked to Umbrey, then back to Tom. He gave a light sigh. “Such good advice, yet you persist in ignoring it. Ah, well. Your choice.”

  He held the sword aloft. It glittered and shone, the fine steel catching the light thrown by the torches. Keegan drew one finger along the edge of the blade. Satisfied with the sharpness of the edge, he moved through the room, making dramatic thrusts and parries. Then he pivoted abruptly and turned on Porter, as though intending to drive it into Porter’s heart.

  “NO!” The single word tore from Tom’s throat. “Don’t do it! You can have her! You can have the dragon!

  Keegan stopped. Turned to face Tom. “You can have the dragon, Sire.” His eyes burned into Tom’s. “Say it.”

  “You can have the dragon, Sire.”

  “Excellent.” Keegan lowered his weapon. “How very sensible of you to see it my way. Where is it?”

  Tom jerked out of the guards’ grasp. Ignoring Porter and Smudge’s screams for him not to give in to Keegan, he shouted, “Hyster! Show yourself!”

  They waited.

  No dragon appeared. No distant flap of a wing could be heard. No echo of a furious roar. Just stark, empty stillness.

  “Hyster!” Tom called.

  “No!” Smudge shouted. “She doesn’t want to come! Don’t make her! Let her fly away!”

  “Silence the brat!” roared Keegan.

  One of his guards drew back his fist, as though intending to slam Smudge backward. Before he could connect, however, a heavy thud resounded through the room as the door was knocked from its hinges. Hyster. She lifted her neck and hissed at the guard who’d threatened Smudge.

  The Watch staggered backward. Keegan staggered backward.

  For a fraction of a second, Tom and his friends had an edge. It didn’t last.

  Recovering quickly, Keegan brought up the Sword of Five Kingdoms and shouted, “Back!”