Dragon Lord: An Epic Fantasy Saga (Origins Book 2)

by James Eggebeen

  Sulrad struggled for air.

  Zhimosom grasped the charm and yanked.

  The charm flared, emitting a brilliant golden light.

  Zhimosom released it as if it were made of fire. Another failed attempt to take the charm. What was protecting it? Sulrad sensed the charm working. It was fighting back. It was his and his alone. No other wizard could touch it.

  How fitting.

  Zhimosom had attacked him hoping to steal the charm, but charm had other plans.

  Sulrad laughed. “You can’t take what’s mine.”

  Zhimosom tried to grab the charm once more. Once more his hand sizzled as it came into contact with the charm.

  It was satisfying to see the charm defending Sulrad. Perhaps there was a way out yet. If he could store Zhimosom’s magic in the charm, he would have command of it.

  Would it be enough to save him?

  He had a feeling he was about to find out. “You will always lose when you come against me,” Sulrad said.

  Zhimosom drew the knife back as if to strike. He paused, his face clouding over. “In tua magicae erites involvint,” he called out.

  The charm vibrated around Sulrad’s neck and grew hotter.

  What now? Was the charm no longer protecting itself?

  Sulrad pulled the charm from his neck and cast it aside.

  What was Zhimosom doing? It sounded like he was casting a spell. A binding spell. If Zhimosom could not take the charm, was he hoping to destroy it?

  As Sulrad stared at the charm, he felt Zhimosom reach out and take the tiniest bit of magic from Sulrad’s internal store.

  The younger wizard pulled at that thread of magic and wrapped it around Sulrad as if spinning a web.

  Before Sulrad could react, Zhimosom intoned a new spell. “Quod sit continere in.”

  The thread wrapped tight around Sulrad. Not physically, but magically. It was a binding spell, and he had no ready counter. Zhimosom’s spell was using his own magic, trapping him inside of it. A variant of the spell that had been used on the temple. How had the young wizard leaned that?

  “That should hold you,” Zhimosom said.

  He stood and brushed the dirt from his robe, waved a hand in the air, and opened a portal. Before Sulrad could respond, Zhimosom had stepped though it and vanished, leaving him alone on the grassy plain.

  50

  The sun set on Sulrad as it had done so many times since he had been abandoned on the desolate island. At first, he had used his magic to light a fire when he needed it. Soon his personal stores had drained away. He’d searched the island until he located a flint and made himself some crude tools. He felt barbaric chopping wood and hauling it to the ring of stones he used as his hearth. There he waited as a lizard, too slow to escape his questing hands, sizzled above the flames. More often than not, Sulrad had gone hungry until he devised a means of netting fish from the shore at low tide. He hated fish, but it sustained him.

  As he did every evening, he sat on the edge of the cliff looking longingly out to sea. “Ran. Why have you abandoned me here?” he demanded. And as he had so many nights, Ran remained silent.

  For a moment, Sulrad toyed with the idea of casting himself from the cliff. The rocks below were jagged and sharp. His demise would be swift and painless. He took small pleasure in the notion that his own passing would end the lives of those responsible for his predicament, yet he felt the time was not yet ripe for such a dramatic statement.

  Something deep inside told him that Ran had plans for him, and this was just another preparation for greater things.

  He laughed.

  That was the sort of thing Ignal would have said.

  He wondered where she was and what she had done since his departure. He imagined her making her way home to her parents in the mountain and trying to make peace with her mother. It was what he would wish for her, but he knew it was not so. She was probably engaged in temple business, recruiting acolytes and training them to serve Ran. She had probably taken his disappearance as a sign from Ran that that he was needed elsewhere, and that when the time was right, Ran would restore him. No doubt she spent her time cleaning his rooms and keeping everything just so. That was more likely. She would never abandon the temple. Never give up hope.

  She was just like Ran. Ran would never abandon him. He knew that. Ran always had a plan, even if Sulrad didn’t see it at first. No. Ran had not abandoned him, but what lesson was Ran teaching him by being stranded here?

  He let his thoughts wander. Somewhere across the expanse of blue ocean, everyone he knew was carrying on with their lives. His disappearance may have been noticed, but without his healings and his teaching, no doubt the townsfolk had returned to their lives, thinking of him only when they needed him.

  That was a hard lesson to learn. People cared little for Ran or his beneficence unless they needed him. Then they came running to the temple, begging for healing. It was off-putting and he secretly enjoyed not being the focus of their demands.

  Sulrad stood and brushed the dust off his robe. Soon it would be no more than tatters. He wondered what he could use to fashion new garments, or would he simply live as a wild man with no clothes, his hair and beard the only protection from the elements? So caught up in his own misery was he that he almost missed the appearance of a white sail on the horizon.

  He thought it was a dream.

  Who would know he was even here?

  He watched it, half expecting it to disappear, but it did not. The sail drew nearer with agonizing slowness. At first, it was little more than a white smudge on the horizon, but eventually, it became clear. The sails were filled with wind as they hauled the deep-keeled ship ever closer.

  When the ship neared the shore, the sails were furled and secured. The anchor dropped, and the ship swung on the tide.

  After an eternity, a boat was lowered into the ocean and began making its way toward the rocky shore.

  Sulrad rushed down, carefully descending the rocky path he used to reach the ocean below. There was a place not far from where he fished where a boat might safely make land without fear of being dashed onto the knife-sharp rocks by the surging waves.

  He stood on that beach, arms outstretched and waving until the boat turned and headed toward him.

  As it drew near, Sulrad made out half a dozen men with oars driving the boat through the surf. In the bow stood someone in white robes with a shaved head. At first, he thought it might be Ignal, but the stature of the person told him it was not. The man standing in the bow was heavyset and seemed unsteady, but valiantly attempted to retain his position even as the boat shoved its way on the narrow sandy beach.

  Sulrad rushed to the boat, searching for Ignal. He was confident that if anyone had come for him, she would be among them.

  “Sulrad? Is that you?” the man called out.

  “Who else would it be?” Sulrad demanded.

  “You don’t look like the Sulrad I knew. You look like an aged man who hasn’t seen a decent meal in ages.”

  “And you look like a balding middle-aged man who hasn’t missed a meal in his life.”

  “Not if I can help it.” The man stepped from the bow and onto the sand. He stretched out his hand and grasped Sulrad’s forearm. “I’ve missed you, old friend.”

  Sulrad searched the sad eyes. “Kelnor. How did you know where to find me?”

  “I didn’t, but Ignal did. She said she felt you. Felt your hunger. Experienced your pain. It took a while to determine precisely where the dragon had abandoned you, but when we did, she spared no time in pulling together this expedition. She used the temple gold and purchased this ship and all its cargo. For the last moon, she has been completely mad with worry. She said she sensed that you were fading, that your magic was gone and that you would no doubt starve to death before we could reach you.”

  “Well, I’m alive, as you can see. Where is Ignal? Did she not come with you?”

  Kelnor smirked. “She didn’t take to the sea voyage as well as some. S
he’s in her cabin. She wanted to come ashore with us, but I persuaded her to let me come and make certain you were here and alive. She made me promise to take good care of you and to fetch her as soon as I was sure you were alive.”

  Kelnor motioned to the boat. One of the oarsmen tossed a sack onto the sand, then pushed the boat back into the surf.

  “You hungry, or do you want to show me where you’ve been living?” Kelnor asked. “In one of these caves?”

  “No. Up there.” Sulrad jutted his chin to the path that he used to reach the top of the cliffs.

  “I had a suspicion it would be something like that.” Kelnor jabbed at the sack with his foot. “She insisted I bring you food.”

  “I won’t die at the moment, but why did you bring it ashore? Why did you send the men for Ignal? Why not just head for the ship and get going? I’m eager to get back home, or am I missing something.”

  “You don’t miss much, do you?” Kelnor asked. “There have been some changes in the last several moons. The baron had turned on the temple, especially when he caught wind of the ships Ignal purchased and all the cargo she has scheduled to arrive. The baron decided that the golds were stolen from him, and he sent his men to take over the temple. Fortunately for us, Ignal was paranoid enough to move everything of value out beforehand. They burned the temple to the ground. Ignal was mad enough to spit fire, but I convinced her it was all for the best. If the temple remained in Frostan, we would have felt guilty leaving it. Now we have no reason to go back. We can start again. Here. Where there are no peasants clamoring for healing and no baron to tell us how to live our lives.”

  “So you are all staying. How many of you will there be?”

  “Acolytes and priests? Several hundred, I should guess. Stone masons, carpenters, and builders. Several dozen. Most of them come from among the faithful. They have brought their tools and their devotion. While they build the new temple, we will continue to scour the land for wizards as they emerge. We will bring them here to train them and send them back to carry on your work.”

  “But there is no magic here,” Sulrad said. “I feel like a boy again, with no magic. Not even enough to call forth a spark to light the fire when I need it. I’ve taken to using a flint and my knife. This is no place for young wizards. They need to live somewhere there is magic.”

  “But there is magic here, and there will be even more soon.” Kelnor dug into the soil with his foot. “The dragons have taken a new form. The spell used to bind them was drawn from the same source of power they used to subvert the magic. The ley lines are moving. Soon this island, once devoid of magic, will once again be a focus. You’ve won. You set the magic free.”

  Sulrad paused. He’d grown so used to being without his magic that he hadn’t even tried to touch it. There beside his heart was a tiny spark of magic. He drew on it and let it open him to the magic around him. It was wild and untamed, but most of all, it was pure. Not like his had been. That was gone. He had burned all the old magic from within him. No more specters of those he had killed. No more Zhimosom. No more Rotiaqua.

  For the first time in a long time, he was free.

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  ALSO IN SERIES

  THE PRIEST

  THE DRAGON LORD

  THE SORCERESS

  THE HEALER

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