The New Age Saga Box Set

by Timothy A. Ray

  Merlin rushed between them, glaring at Reyna before turning to their crotchety visitor.

  He sighed, would there ever be an end to any of this? Couldn’t they just do what they came here for and be done with it? For the first time since he had known the mage, he watched the other man bow to the newcomer out of respect, something he hadn’t done even for his late father. What could extract such an honor from the ageless magician? “Forgive them, they don’t know who they’re talking to. It’s been a rough couple of days. The roads are not as safe as they used to be,” Merlin apologized to the cranky bastard, a humble look upon his face.

  Okay, now he was curious.

  The old man nodded but still glared at the frustrated telepath. “He ought to knock that off or he’ll get another nosebleed.”

  “How do you know about—?” Jared began.

  “Cease, Jared,” Merlin commanded, making Reyna bristle even more. She slid a step sideways and blocked the old man’s view of her brother; anger barely held in check.

  Melissa came forward and bowed before the older man as well.

  The old man chuckled. “Been a long time. Glad you finally got out of that musty dank cave of yours.”

  “Had no choice in the matter,” the witch replied grimly. It had cost her dearly and he experienced firsthand what had been forced upon her. The resentment was still there, and he couldn’t blame her for any of it. He was starting to feel the same way.

  “Anyone mind filling us in on what’s going on?” Willow finally interjected, her impatience getting the best of her.

  Merlin gave her a look like she’d just disrespected a royal dignitary and she winced under his gaze.

  “Don’t let it bother you, old friend,” their visitor told the mage, coming to stand between the two magicians and smiling at them. “You forget, they are mortal, live shorter lives, and they don’t have the patience that comes from living as long as we have. My name is Wyrddlin.”

  “You’re named after a dragon?” Willow asked, an eyebrow raising.

  The old man chuckled. “Something like that.”

  “Willow, he is the dragon,” Melissa corrected, and Tristan’s jaw dropped.

  What?

  III

  Merlin had insisted that they get dinner served before explaining Melissa’s comment, and the other two seemed agreeable to keep silent about it as well.

  What Melissa had said didn’t make any sense. This old man was a dragon? Were they not mythical winged creatures that breathed fire, or was it a metaphor for magic they employed? Trek had changed into one. Was that a flight of fancy and not based on reality? He eyed the older man as he accepted a bowl of stew and nodded graciously at the irritated black knight. Reyna’s sword had been sheathed, but she hadn’t removed it even when she sat down to eat, keeping her attention on their unexpected visitor.

  Kylee had returned a short time before with a deer, telling them that Tuskar had remained behind to eat his own kill. She had already cleaned it and he watched her set up a rack to hold the carcass while she ate. Her eyes hadn’t shown surprise at the newcomer’s presence, and he knew that she was passed resigned to having unexpected guest where Merlin was concerned.

  “You’ve seen these two shapeshift, have you not?” Wyrddlin asked them point blank. When he didn’t get an immediate response, he went on, “the only difference is, I only have one other form. And frankly, that’s all I need. Now, what are you lot doing camping near my mountains?”

  Merlin chuckled. “You know why we’re here and what we’re after, why bother asking?”

  Wyrddlin eyed the mage. “Do you think I’d allow anyone to go after that—thing? I’d rather it stays exactly where it is, thank you very much.”

  “If you know what we’re after, then you know why we have to find it. It has nothing to do with you,” Merlin returned, treading carefully before the flushing older man’s face.

  What the hell? Oh! Dragonslayer! I can see why he wouldn’t want us to find that. The robed figure across from him stole a glance his way and he knew that he’d just been heard. Damn it, he had to work on that. This was getting to be stupid.

  “What do I care about the race of Man or what the Phoenix will do to it? She’s left me alone since summoning me through that blasted portal of hers, why should I get involved?” Wyrddlin asked. “The Phoenix has never hunted me, the same cannot be said of these pathetic human knights that seek me out to establish their fame.”

  It sounded eerily familiar and by the look on Melissa’s face, she was well aware of that.

  “She will not stop this time until the entire world burns to ash and nothing is left. Even you will not be safe from her clutches. Other dragons have taken to the air in support of her cause, and last time I checked, they didn’t have a high regard for the lone outsider hiding within his precious mountains,” Merlin responded with a hint of sarcasm. Was he purposely goading a dragon?

  “Let them try,” the older man snarled, gripping his staff tightly. “If they were so confident, they would’ve moved against me long before now.” Yet, even though he talked tough, something was softening in the old man’s eyes as he looked south towards the mountain ranges beyond. “Nothing short of killing you will stop you, will it?”

  Merlin shook his head.

  Wyrddlin sighed. “In my younger years, this discussion would go on much longer, platitudes having needed to be given, gifts offered, but I find myself less given over to that these days. Now, I prefer to just cut to the end. You may pass.”

  “Thank you,” Melissa answered for the other mage, bowing her head.

  Still puzzling through the fact that they were talking to a real-life dragon, he glanced to the eastern sky and saw a few dots on the horizon. “Uh, what is that?” he blurted out while pointing at the objects winging south.

  Wyrddlin turned and followed his gaze, eyes narrowing. Then he growled. “More trespassers. Seems the influx of uninvited guests is at an all-time high.”

  Merlin’s eyes were following the specks as well, and he suddenly rose to his feet and roared, “get the griffins saddled, we need to leave now!”

  “Why?” Willow asked, stunned by the mage’s explosive outburst. Dusk was fast approaching; they’d have a hard time navigating the mountain passages in the dark.

  Melissa was rising as well, followed by the older man, who took more interest in the tiny blips in the sky. “Seems like you were right,” Wyrddlin told the mage, while the man hurriedly packed.

  He was up as well, throwing his stuff together, but still didn’t see what the problem was. It was probably just a couple of large birds.

  “Those aren’t birds, they’re dragons,” Merlin told them, and a sickening feeling fell in Tristan’s stomach.

  Here we go again.

  Chapter 5

  City of Silver and Gold

  I

  Tristan couldn’t help but look over at the silver dragon flying next to them, the layered scales reflecting in the soft moonlight like the rippling waves of a lake. Over forty feet in length, with horns lining his back and enormous leather wings spread out twice his size, the dragon was both terrifying and impressive to look at. He would say Wyrddlin was the largest dragon he’d ever seen, but in actuality, he was the only one so far, but that would soon change as those two northern dots drew closer to their position.

  He had been busy packing when the old man had assumed his natural state and was stunned to see the enormous beast watching them intently as they climbed onto their griffins and took flight. Even though he’d been surrounded by magic recently, he still couldn’t help but be surprised whenever he saw it used. He was just glad that he didn’t have any control over it himself, he’d be too terrified to use it; afraid of shooting his foot off or worse.

  The griffins had been agitated with the sudden change in plans. Flying in the darkness, which might at any instant erupt in dragonfire, was not a persuasive argument to win them over. There had been a heated discussion between Merlin and Kallen before t
hey’d taken flight, and he had heard the griffin’s reluctant reply when finally giving in to the mage’s will. It would have been odd thing, refusing Merlin, he’d yet to see anyone pull that off.

  Mountains loomed on either side as they banked their way along a river heading south. He was less excited this time; his eyes constantly drawn north, checking for any sign of the enemy. How did anyone know where they were going? Did the Phoenix still have eyes on them? That was a disturbing thought. He’d thought they’d left the last of her agents behind when they’d found Preik’s corpse, could someone else amongst their group be a traitor as well? Could he trust anyone other than Willow?

  He marveled once more at the speed in which the countryside flew past. Flying was different than any other mode of travel he’d ever experienced. With horses, you could see your destination from afar and it never seemed to approach until you were right there. This was totally different. The landscape changed so fast his mind raced to keep up. They could probably span the entire known world in the matter of days if they had a mind to. He wondered if he’d ever be able to ride a horse again without feeling like he was moving in slow motion.

  As the moon rose overhead he watched the eastern mountainside begin to pull away. Training his eyes east, he still didn’t see anything alarming, but as he moved his gaze south he caught sight of something that made him catch his breath. Nestled against the mountainside, in a valley nestled against the rock as if seeking body warmth, was an enormous fortress. It was larger than Lancaster and probably Forlorn as well. How had anything that large ever been built? How long had it taken them to finish, or was it a generational achievement? How many men would it take to defend it? It was just—staggering to look at.

  Even through the dim light he could see that it was a very old and that nature was slowly reclaiming the land it had been built on. Trees had forced their way through the walls, as if they were always a part of it rather than destroying the ancient ruins with their continued growth. The ramparts still looked solid, but the roofs of the towers had along ago disappeared to the elements. Large boulders had smashed their way through parts of the castle, portions of the city lay in rubble; almost indistinguishable from the invading mountainside.

  The griffins banked east, heading for a small clearing in front of what must have been the royal palace. As he studied the landscape, in his mind he pictured what it would look like restored to its formal glory, and he felt a longing in his heart to see it happen. Such a place deserved to be well kept, not left to slowly fade into history.

  Home! Some hidden voice within cried and he shied away from it. He’d had enough of that shit to fill a lifetime. He would get help to shield his mind or he would walk. He needed his privacy back!

  He slid from the saddle almost immediately after they touched down; taking a second to adjust the armor he’d barely had time to put on. Then he turned to help Willow dismount. As much as he wanted to continue checking out the ruins of the fortress, he couldn’t help but look north, wondering if those dragons were really heading this way or if they’d overreacted.

  “Kallen, probably best if your clan patrols from the air, not much good to us here on the ground,” Merlin advised the griffin leader.

  “Holler when you’re ready to leave this ancient graveyard,” the gruff voice of the griffin responded, then beat his wings and lifted into the air.

  Reyna and Kore approached the mage, Jared hanging back, his face reflecting that he was using his powers to scan the area as well. Bleak was hollering about something from Melissa’s shoulder, but no one was paying attention to the tiny voice; Tristan could barely make out what he was saying anyways. Trek was lying next to Willow’s ankle, cleaning himself once more, as if totally disregarding the danger that might even now be descending upon them.

  “Where do we begin?” Reyna asked, Kylee and Tuskar checking the perimeter while Merlin considered the question. Turning in the direction of the silver dragon, they were surprised to find that Wyrddlin wasn’t amongst them, as a dragon or in his human form.

  “Where did—?” he began but was cut off by a bellow erupting from the direction of the ruined palace as a large group of orcs charged into view, weapons raised in ambush. Where the hell had they come from? He’d seen the valley coming in, it would have taken them at least a week to travel here. How long had they been lying in wait?

  There was laughter from their rear and while he was drawing his sword, he turned to see two dragons marching their way up the rubble-filled road. The enemy had beaten them there and had somehow been hidden from view as they approached. He’d been so busy looking to the northern sky—

  Clint was sitting astride a black dragon, his laughter making his blood turn cold.

  The man that murdered his parents was right there!

  He grabbed his shield and fixed it to his arm just as Kore and Reyna met the oncoming horde. Merlin’s magic was weaving through the air as Jared’s staff began swinging at the first attacker that came in range. Willow hadn’t turned around and had no clue that danger was approaching from their flank; she was overly busy trying to aid their companions withstand the surprise attack. Trek had shapeshifted into a tiger and had launched himself into the fray.

  As much as he wanted to run to their aid, he couldn’t focus on that while Clint was right there taunting him. He roared and was preparing to charge the laughing assassin when he saw a red armored orc dismount, blocking his path. The orc was larger than any he’d ever seen before in his life, even Kore. The armor was severely damaged, like it had been eaten at by giant moths, yet still looked too formidable for conventional attack. He’d obviously been in a battle recently and he wondered who won that particular fight?

  One thing was for sure, he needed help.

  “Kylee!” he yelled over his shoulder, noticing that the ranger was using her long knives for close quarter combat while Tuskar kept the next group at bay with his fangs.

  As she dispatched her attacker, she shifted her eyes towards the dragons, and the look that came over her face told him all he needed to know. She recognized the man on the dragon as well. Fury flashed into existence as a sneer broke across her face and faster than his eye could track, her bow was in hand, an arrow whistling through the air an instant later.

  The orc knocked it aside with a very large battle axe, as if he was merely swatting at a fly. The effortlessness of the act left him both stunned and concerned that maybe they wouldn’t make it out of this one alive. What pit of hell had this creature crawled out from?

  A roar of outrage pierced the air behind him and Tuskar howled a second later, adding his voice to his partner’s fury. Kylee charged past him before he could even react, and he hastily moved to follow after but was rooted with indecision. Taking on two dragons, a large orc, and Clint with nothing but the ranger for help was a daunting task not to be taken lightly, but what was he going to do, let her take them on alone?

  Melissa stepped forward and began attacking the red armored orc, hitting him with green fire repeatedly, as Kylee dove past a quick burst of dragonfire. Dodging it easily, she brought her bow to bear once more and let loose another missile at her enemy.

  Clint was off his dragon by the time it pierced the air he’d only moments before occupied and he could hear the man yelling at them from behind the enormous beast. “Sending a woman to fight your battles, Prince of Lancaster? You that much of a coward? I’ve got what you’ve come for, and once I take it back to my Queen, I’ll forever cement my place at her side!”

  He had Dragonslayer? How long had they been here?

  Merlin hissed at him, sending a fireball into a group of attacking orcs as he turned to face Tristan. “Go after him, we need that sword!”

  No shit! Really?

  A very large bellow rocked the mountainside and an enormous silver dragon dove into view, breathing fire on his grounded kin; drawing their attention. On his rear were the griffins, their own cries adding to the Wyrddlin’s rage. The cavalry had arrived!

&n
bsp; The red dragon launched into the air unscathed, but the black one received the brunt of the dragon fire and Tristan could smell the instant aroma of burnt flesh. With a cry of rage, the black tried to leap into the air, but as Wyrddlin swept by to chase the red, the griffins fell upon the injured creature with all their might; talons tearing flesh and blood misting the air in a horrific display of savagery. The sound of impact was sickening, and he was sure those were bones he heard breaking.

  He forced himself to get moving. Running in the direction of Clint’s voice, he dodged the rear paw of a griffin and felt the earth tremble beneath his feet; his ears ringing from the black dragon’s agonizing cries. He almost got knocked over by its tail and had to leap over it to keep from getting swept aside.

  When he broke free of the melee, he could see Clint racing back down the road, Kylee in hot pursuit. Tuskar burst past him and he pumped his legs as hard as he could, the armor slowing him despite its light weight. This was one time that he wished he’d hadn’t put it on. There was no point in having it on if his foe slipped from his grasp because he was too slow to catch him. There was no way he was going to let Clint get away. It was just not happening!

  He felt a quick burst of wind and he looked up to see the silver dragon winging past; the red armored orc flailing within his jaws. A terrifying roar answered Wyrddlin’s attack as the red dragon dove from the clouds and came at the silver beast tearing into his rider. Green fire flashed across the sky and smote the red beast in the jaw, causing it to veer left and out of sight. He heard the grinding sound of jaws clenching and sudden rain splashed upon his armor. He didn’t pause to see what it was but did manage to jump aside as red armor impacted the road just to his left. Half the orc lay there, eyes staring at him, mouth working; as if his brain hadn’t caught up to the fact that he was dead.

  He tried to keep the two figures in sight, but they were slowly gaining ground, and he was starting to feel winded trying to keep up. It looked like Clint was running towards the outer wall. Where did he think he was going to go, all his reinforcements were to the rear? They disappeared from view and he felt the frustration welling up to mix with his adrenaline; he was starting to see red and it wasn’t from the blood dripping off his helm. “I swear to God, if I lose him—.”