The Summoned Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 4)

by Dan Michaelson

  “What is it?”

  The Servant smiled at me. “Affellah will provide.”

  He continued down the stairs, and I shook my head as I followed him, feeling the energy all around me, the trembling sort of power that came from the mountain, leaving me quaking with it.

  I would much rather be back at the Academy, struggling to learn more about how to create weaves of power out of the dragon magic, studying with Natalie, and even struggling with Thomas. All of that would have been far better than what I had to experience here. Instead, I was on barren rock, my mouth dry from the mineral content in the water, and some part of me ached and throbbed from whatever connection they had forced on me.

  We reached the bottom of the stairs and he guided me along the path.

  Asanley followed, though she did so carefully, glancing over to the Servant as we descended. She stayed nearby, and every time I turned toward her, I had the continued sense of her irritation, of her anger at my presence.

  “If this is all about the journey, can you tell me why Affellah has been trembling?” I asked.

  Asanley glanced at me, frowning for a moment.

  The Servant actually smiled. That was unusual. “You felt it.”

  I glanced up the side of the volcano. I could see a hint of steam, but no glowing. “I don’t know how you wouldn’t feel it.”

  The Servant turned and continued descending the mountainside. “Not all are aware of the power of Affellah. Even among the Vard who recognize Affellah, there are some who do not feel its power.”

  I glanced over to Asanley, but she seemed to be making a point of ignoring me.

  We continued to descend, which surprised me. If all of this was a journey to understand this power so I could use it against the murtar, why wasn’t he taking me upward, toward the source of the heat and fire, toward what I assumed was the power of Affellah?

  “You led me down, not up. If today is a day of transformation, a day of embracing Affellah, why would you not have brought me up the mountainside?”

  “Not all can start their journey on the peak. Some must start at the base and work their way up.”

  The Servant watched me, a strange look on his face—a hint of a smile, almost amusement.

  “You came here looking for understanding.”

  “Initially, I came here to stop a war between our people because I didn’t believe it was necessary. Now, I am here for something else.”

  “Transformation,” he said, nodding down the mountainside.

  “What am I to do for this transformation?”

  “What all must do. Transformation requires a journey. For some, it’s a journey within themselves, to try to understand who they are and what they are meant to be, but for others it is an actual journey.” He smiled at me. “What will it be for you, Ashan?”

  As he said my name, a flare of heat surged from him and slammed into me.

  I staggered and slipped, trying unsuccessfully to grab a handhold.

  “Transformation,” the Servant said.

  His voice drifted toward me, and it was one of the last things I heard as I tumbled down the mountainside.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I tried to protect my head as I fell, knowing I needed to keep myself shielded as I rolled down the mountainside, grabbing for handholds. I was sliding, not careening uncontrollably, but I couldn’t stop myself. Each time my grip managed to latch on to some outcropping of rock, or small scrub brush, it pulled free and I fell farther. The rock seemed to tear at the fabric of my robes, while the rough fabric itself tore at my flesh.

  I slowed and shifted as I reached a flatter section of the mountainside, getting my feet in front of me. In the back of my mind, I focused on the dragon. He was there, seemingly aware of my descent. I called to him, but when I did, a flare of heat surged, as if trying to get in between the dragon and me, as if trying to stop me from reaching the creature. I tried to push through it, trying to latch on to that energy, wanting to cycle, but I couldn’t.

  I crashed, hitting rock after rock, until I finally stopped.

  Everything hurt. I had lost track of how many times I slammed into stone, how many times my head struck rock, nearly knocking me unconscious. Pain flared through me.

  I rolled, looking up the steep slope. I didn’t think this had been the Servant’s intent, but if it were, it was incredibly cruel of him. In my time traveling with him, I hadn’t found him to be cruel—hard, the way his lands could be hard, and practical, but not cruel.

  Affellah loomed above me, obscuring the peak from view. I couldn’t see the dragon either. I could scarcely feel him.

  Transformation.

  I still had no idea what they intended for me with this transformation, but right now, it felt like pain was transforming me.

  I sat in place for a moment and took a deep breath, then dragged myself off to the side of the mountainside where I had stopped. It still dropped off in front of me, but a tree blocked me from tumbling any farther, and the warmth began to radiate around me.

  I wondered if Asanley had suffered the same fate. Probably not. She was Vard. She would’ve known what was going to happen, and probably had some way of bracing herself. This was my journey, apparently. And now I had to take it to find my path.

  As I looked up the mountainside, I realized just how impossibly far I’d fallen. I shouldn’t have survived that tumble.

  It seemed as if each time I’d struck rock, heat had flared within me. There had been a surge of energy, as if power had bloomed—at least, that was the way it seemed in retrospect. Perhaps there was something to it.

  It wasn’t the power of dragons, not the way I would’ve expected had I been back in the kingdom, connected to my cycle. This was something else.

  Open myself to Affellah.

  That thought stayed with me, almost a command, as if the Servant tried to call out and tell me what I needed to do, how I needed to respond.

  If I could reopen myself to Affellah, understand that power, then I could use that to overpower the murtar spreading through the kingdom. I had to do this.

  Transformation.

  That was what I needed, even if I didn’t understand what it would require.

  I took a deep breath, then let it out. The pain started to fade.

  I tried to get to my feet. As I did, I realized I wasn’t injured.

  I should be though. I almost laughed, but then I realized why I wasn’t harmed, and the urge to laugh began to fade. Could it actually have been the power of Affellah?

  What was Affellah but magic?

  It had to be similar to the power of the dragons, and maybe it was the power of the dragon—or dragons—that had protected me, not Affellah.

  Open myself to Affellah.

  Transformation.

  Those were the words of the Servant. That was what he wanted from me, the reason I had returned. I wasn’t sure what it would involve, or if there would be anything I might be able to learn, but I knew that my connection to the dragon, and to the cycle of dragons, had not been enough. It had not permitted me to stop the murtar.

  I looked up the mountainside and it trembled, as if Affellah were surging, trying to tell me something.

  I’d been sitting too long, trying to recover and gain some understanding as to what might happen to me. Eventually, the day turned to a cooler night.

  I had become accustomed to the shifting temperatures in this land. The evening was better than the daytime, cooler and almost comfortable, though not by much. As I sat there, debating what I was going to do, I heard the sound of stone shifting and crunching beneath boots.

  Somebody was approaching.

  It must be one of the Servants.

  I got to my feet and leaned against the tree, waiting.

  The figure continued to make their way down the mountainside, moving far more easily than I had as I had tumbled down the rock, sliding and bouncing. I searched for some sense of heat, but there was none. There was no way for me to tell who was coming
, but I knew it wasn’t one of the Servants.

  I realized it was Asanley weaving through a pair of spindly trees. She stopped when she caught sight of me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I dusted myself off, glancing up the mountainside. There was still no sense of heat, nothing to suggest the Servant was coming with her. “Did he send you?” I asked.

  She regarded me for a long moment, then continued her track down the mountainside. I turned, looking after her.

  “I don’t know who might have sent me. I’m taking my journey to find Affellah.”

  I looked up the mountainside, confusion filling me. “Aren’t you going the wrong way?”

  She paused. “Sometimes for one to find Affellah, we must take a journey beyond.”

  I frowned. The way she spoke reminded me of the Servant, but I wasn’t exactly sure if that was intentional, or if that was how all of the Vard spoke.

  “Beyond what?”

  “Beyond what we believe.”

  I frowned at her, shaking my head. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

  “Because you are not from these lands,” she said. Her voice had a harsh quality to it, perhaps from yelling often—or perhaps from not speaking.

  “I know, but I’ve been trying to understand them. I’ve been traveling with your Servant—”

  “You cannot understand my people. You are an outsider.”

  She continued down the mountainside, and I waited for a moment, debating what to do, before chasing after her. I could hurry back up to the Servant, but what would I find? It seemed to me that going down the slope, following this woman and seeing where she was going, was far more intriguing to me than going back up the mountainside and trying to figure out what else might be there.

  “You do not need to follow,” she said.

  “You said you were trying to find Affellah.”

  “That is my journey,” she said, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead of her.

  “That’s also my journey.”

  She looked over, irritation flashing in her eyes. “Do not mock me. I will not tolerate an outsider mocking me.”

  I hadn’t interacted with that many people in the Vard lands, other than the Servant. Those within the villages had been accommodating, though perhaps not welcoming. She, however, seemed actively angry.

  She moved down the slope, navigating far more easily than I could, though I hurried after her. My footing slipped every so often, and I cursed myself. I had grown up on a farm, had worked the plains, and had navigated forests, but had never needed to climb like this. I shouldn’t be ashamed of my failing here.

  “I meant no offense. I’m here to try to understand Affellah as well.”

  She looked back at me, and though there was no flame in her eyes the way there was with the Servant, it seemed heat radiated off her—more anger, most likely, and perhaps even hatred.

  While it surprised me, I realized it shouldn’t. The Vard had no reason to want me here. I was an outsider, but more than that, I was an outsider from a land that had warred with her people.

  After I had followed her for a while, she stopped and looked over to me. “I am not going to guide you to Affellah.”

  “I’ve already found Affellah,” I said.

  “You’re an outsider.”

  “Yes, but your Servant wanted me to know Affellah.”

  Her brow furrowed and her nose wrinkled as she frowned at me.

  “The Servant brought me to a dark, charred room. What is that for but to find Affellah?” I asked.

  “A child goes there to find Affellah,” she said.

  A child?

  I half expected she was making a joke, but I had the sense that she wasn’t one to make lighthearted comments, certainly not about Affellah.

  Which meant the Servant truly had brought me to a place where they brought their children to understand Affellah.

  I could imagine his reaction to my questioning. What was I but a child compared to them? How could I be anything else?

  She started down the slope again, and I jogged after her to keep up.

  My foot slipped, and I caught a collection of loose gravel, causing me to slide on my backside down the mountainside and slam into a tree.

  Heat flared within me. This time, I wasn’t sure if it was pain or the power of Affellah. I pulled myself away from the tree, trying to ignore the sudden jolting agony working through my back.

  She stopped next to me. “You will not follow me to Affellah.”

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I said, dragging myself off the ground and looking over to her. “They told me it was a time of transformation.”

  “It is,” she said. She kept her gaze focused straight ahead of her and her mouth pressed into a tight line as she loped down the mountainside.

  I was more cautious with my steps, but I still wasn’t sure if I was cautious enough. She was surefooted, whereas I was uncertain. Unstable.

  She watched me. The daylight was fading, and soon darkness would fall in full.

  There was no glowing, no light, nothing to suggest she had any way of seeing her way down the mountainside without a lantern, so I hoped she would take a break and rest.

  She frowned at me. “Why do you follow?”

  I debated how much to share with her about my reason for being here. I had a sense from the Servant that their people believed murtar was no longer a threat. Perhaps it hadn’t been for a long time, but something had changed.

  “I’m trying to find Affellah. I can feel heat within me—”

  “Heat is not Affellah,” she said.

  “Fine. Then I’m trying to find answers. Is that what you want to know?”

  She watched me for a long moment before turning away. “I am not to teach any outsider about my people.”

  The anger flashed in her eyes again. Perhaps it was just anger, not hatred, though wouldn’t that be deserved as well? My people felt the same way about outsiders as she did. I had seen it within the kingdom, the way that anger and distrust clouded people’s minds.

  I still trailed after her though.

  It had taken me a long time to come to terms with what I believed about the Vard. I tried to understand them in a way that I doubted I would learn from the Servant.

  And there was something about Asanley that intrigued me. I had spent so much time on the farm taking care of my family, taking care of the farm itself, that I had not considered my own interests until I had gone to the kingdom, met Natalie, and found another way of life. Now I came looking for other answers. Perhaps I could learn more about the Vard while I was trying to understand Affellah so that I could help my people.

  “Are you going to keep moving all night long?” I asked.

  “I don’t intend to stay with you, if that is your intention.”

  “I don’t mean anything like that,” I said, though I had no idea what exactly she meant.

  I found myself struggling to have a meaningful conversation with her, as I hadn’t spent much time with any of the other Vard, besides the Servant. Maybe this was part of the reason our people struggled to get along. I suspected she was my age, or close enough, which meant her experiences would’ve been during my lifetime. What had the kingdom done in that time?

  It occurred to me that I did not really know about everything the kingdom had been responsible for, despite my desire to find out.

  I found her regarding me, irritation flashing in her eyes again.

  “I just want to understand,” I said again.

  I was repeating myself. I didn’t know how she might respond, or if I might be able to coax the anger away and perhaps get her to a lower level of irritation.

  All while trying to understand what the Servant wanted of me.

  Open myself to Affellah.

  Transformation.

  Then I could stop the murtar. Once I did, I could use whatever I learned here to try to bridge our peoples.

  Maybe that was what I should st
art with now. But other questions came to me.

  “What does he mean by ‘transformation’?” I asked, hurrying to catch up to her. Shadows started to stretch along the path, and I stepped over imagined logs, moved around branches that weren’t there, and danced around rocks I wasn’t even sure were real.

  She slowed. “Transformation is what we all must go through.”

  “To become a Servant?”

  She watched me, nodding slowly. “Some of us.”

  “Not all of you?”

  “Not all become Servants. Affellah does not ask that of all of us.”

  I hadn’t expected that everybody became a Servant. I knew there were only a few in their lands, at least from what Thomas had claimed. But if she was on a journey for Affellah, would that not mean she wanted to be a Servant?

  “What does Affellah ask of those who don’t become Servants?”

  She glowered at me, shaking her head and muttering under her breath. I heard a few words, notably ‘outsider,’ ‘stupid,’ and some word I couldn’t quite make out.

  I found myself smiling.

  At least she wasn’t hiding anything from me. Unlike my experience with Natalie, this woman wore her emotions on her sleeve. It might be easier if she hid her hatred for me, but perhaps it was for the best. This way, I knew where I stood.

  I focused on the distant dragon, and could still feel him circling. Above me, there was the glowing light of the volcano. I couldn’t feel the heat, but I could feel something that seemed to come from the volcano—energy and the occasional trembling.

  “What do your precious dragons ask of you?”

  The comment caught me off guard. “We don’t worship dragons.”

  “I know all about your people. We know how you feel about the dragons. You celebrate them.” She waved her arms in the air, as if she were trying to mimic flying. “You want to be like them.”

  “I don’t think you understand my people.”

  She turned on me, jabbed a finger toward me before seeming to collect herself, then forcibly lowered her arms. Her eyes flashed with that irritation again. “I know your people have hunted mine,” she said, her voice low and tight, filled with anger. “I know you cannot allow us to have the peace of Affellah. And I know you have tried to harm our Servants.” She continued to glower at me before she spun and headed down the slope.