Dragon Legends (Return of the Darkening Book 2) (18 page)

It’d be much less scary if he’d been yelling or howling.

Kalax kept her neck straight and only used her tail to shift the flow of air over her body. I knew that she, too, was concentrating with all of her might. She couldn’t miss a single beat of her wings as she ducked, spun, swirled and soared.

Dipping lower, Kalax flew down a narrow street. The gables of roofs exploded behind us as black dragons smashed into the buildings, trying to keep pace with Kalax. Lifting up, Kalax barrel-rolled in a turn and took us under one of the river bridges.

I spared a look over my shoulder.

It was working—our dragons were protecting the escaping people, driving back the Wildmen and the bandits. Gargax and the dragons with him, were keeping the walls beyond the city safe. Torvald might be burning, but the people would be safe in the woods. For now.

The black dragons were also tiring. Knocked to the ground by our dragons, they’d rise and most would turn and head north. Kalax turned and flew straight at five more wild dragons—they scattered in front of her and other dragons took up chasing after them.

Wheeling, Kalax headed up into the dawn clouds. She, too, was starting to tire. She needed rest, and food and water. Seb glanced back at me and shouted, “We need to find the squadrons and bring them back here.”

I nodded. A desperate knot clenched in my stomach. I didn’t want to leave Torvald—my home. I wanted to know my parents were safe, that my friends were still alive, but I knew Seb had the same worries. And without help, the black dragons might return and we could lose the small advantage we’d gained.

“Signal Jensen and Merik—let them know we’re going for help. They’re going to have to hold out here as long as they can and protect the people. We can’t save the city, but we have to protect those who’ve fled. Tell the dragons,” I said.

Seb turned and began to wave signal flags to the two other Dragon Riders—two dragons, two teams of riders. It was so little to hold the slender thread of hope we’d created.

Reaching down, Seb touched Kalax’s neck. I thought I saw the air shimmer as he connected with her, asking her to transmit the call to our other dragons.

We go to find the Dragon Riders. Be safe—keep the people and yourselves safe.

Dragons began to peel away to head back to the enclosure—some would guard it. Others—under Gargax—followed the people who were fleeing the city. Below us, Torvald was burning. Kalax swooped over the city once more and then Seb turned her away to the east.

Can you smell the squadrons?
Seb asked Kalax.

She snorted and thought back,
too much smoke yet.

I knocked another arrow to my bow—I was down to only a few arrows.

A loud roar echoed and a black dragon dove at us, claws out. The dragon knocked into Kalax and sent us spinning. Everything whirled about for a moment. I heard Kalax’s grunt and her claws scrabbled on roof tiles and chimneys seeking a grip. She grabbed a building and stopped her fall, and I looked up to see Erufon bellowing. He slammed into the wild, black dragon, tangling with it.

Erufon and the black slammed into the woods. I wondered if Erufon had survived—or if he and the wild dragon were both dead now. I had never heard of a dragon doing that for someone who wasn’t its rider or mate.

In the pale dawn light, Kalax and the other dragons bellowed a call and the remaining black dragons seemed to scatter at the sound. And we flew away unpursued from the fall of Torvald.

*

I don’t think I’d ever been so tired in all my life. My head thumped as though giants had taken up living there and were trying to break out of my skull with hammers. I don’t remember how we ended up in the cave in the mountains by the ruins of an old monastery. The sun was high, but hidden behind gray clouds. I could smell smoke on us, and it seemed like the cries of those wounded or killed in the battle for Torvald still rang in my head.

Thea had been looking at me strangely for the past hour, I knew. By the time I’d slid off Kalax, I feared my legs would buckle. Leaning against Kalax so I wouldn’t fall, I eased off my helmet. Thea sucked in a hard breath and her eyes narrowed as she stared at me.

Did I really look that terrible?

I lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from my face. It came back tacky with blood—my own, I guessed.

“Was I hit by something?” I asked. Fear lanced through me. Would I go the way of the old king—struck down by a poisoned arrow? I was almost too tired to care.

Pulling out a folded cloth, Thea slapped it against my chest. “Seb—you’ve a nosebleed.” She sounded worried. Grabbing my arm, she dragged me with her. Kalax took up the entire front of the cave and fell at once into a deep sleep—only a dragon, or a cat, could sleep like that.

“Let’s look at you,” Thea said. She pushed me to sit on a boulder and started to run her hands over my head and neck.

I knocked her arm away. “It’s just a nosebleed.”

Stepping back, she put her hands on her hips. “Just nothing. It was the strain of controlling that many dragons—it could have killed you!”

I nodded and shrugged. She was probably right, but what choice did we have? It was push harder or die.

Right now, my head still spun and an urge for fish lifted in me—I need to fly and fill my belly. I shook my head. Those weren’t my thoughts—were they?

Behind us, Kalax yawned and settled deeper into sleep. That was a good idea, but I started to stand. “I should take off her harness and saddles.”

“No. We may need to leave quickly. I’ll loosen them, but nothing more. You need to rest. Use my cloak. It’s not freezing in here, but it’s not exactly warm.”

She unfastened her cloak and swung it over me. Pushing and shoving, she got me seated on the ground. My body felt numb, and occasionally my head felt like a lightning storm was going on inside. I should do more.

Sleep. Fish. Eat. Drink.

I shook my head. Not my thoughts.

Kalax gave a low laugh.
Dragons know best.

Yes, we do
, I thought back to her.

Sitting in the dark, I watched Thea. Kalax’s breath began to warm the cave, and soon I slept, too, and dreamed of flying, the wind under my wings and the joy of a good fight in my heart.

*

When I next woke up, it was to the welcome smell of roasting rabbit. For an instant, I thought to stretch my tail and wings, but I remembered the cave—they wouldn’t fit. Heart pounding, I sat up and looked around.

I wasn’t a dragon.

Hand to my head, I glanced outside.

From the slant of the sun, was afternoon. I shivered and pulled Thea’s cloak tighter. Memories of fangs, talons and fire kept flashing into my head. Kalax, I knew, was near and hunting up stray mountain sheep.

My stomach gurgled and I sat up. I was famished, too.

Thea glanced over at me. “Good, you’re up. There’s a stream down past the ruins. When you’ve washed, you can have some breakfast!”

She sounded almost cheerful, but I knew her better than that. Her mouth was set and the lines around her eyes said she was trying to hide her feelings. When she stood, she moved stiffly. She was worried.

About me and everything else.

As well she might be.

I was starting to worry about me, too.

Getting up, I stumbled down to find the swift, clear and cold mountain stream that Thea had found. My body felt awkward—too small and no wings or tail to help me balance. I wondered if I hadn’t somehow broken the connection with the dragons—was this how I’d always be? A man who felt more like a dragon? Or a dragon who wasn’t quite human anymore?

The cold water felt good on my face. I washed off the smoke and grit from my skin and stared at my hands a long time. I also drank down the cold water—it felt good in my belly. Then I sat up and looked at the sky.

Was Torvald really gone?

Were Merik and Varla and the others safe? What of my family—had they gotten out of the city? And Thea’s family? Her brothers were with the squadrons, but were her mother and father still alive?

It was all too much to bear thinking about.

Getting up, I walked past the ruins and back to the cave. The world seemed strange to me—every smell seemed vivid and bright. I could hear birds and squirrels and rabbits as I’d never heard them before. I could smell Kalax not far off. I almost sent a thought to her, but decided I needed to watch that just now.

What if I was becoming too much a dragon? I needed to be careful not the let the affinity swallow me.

But why not?

The thought stopped me where I stood.

Why not be more of a dragon? I’d be faster? I’d be stronger? I’d have a family who would never leave me, for were not all dragons one blood? Crossing my arms over my chest, I shook my head. I wasn’t going to think that way—but the idea lodged in the back of my mind, ridiculous as it was. I wasn’t a dragon—I could never be one. And if I lost my mind thinking that, I’d be no use to anyone.

Heading into the cave, I sat down cross-legged in front of the fire Thea had going. It seemed too small and the cave seemed too cold. She offered me a skinny rabbit leg. I took it and tried to remember not to try and swallow it, bone and all. “I think I have an idea how to find Prince Justin and the others.”

“King Justin, now,” Thea said, and ate some of the rabbit. She wiped her fingers on her riding leathers. “Do you think even the squadrons will be enough? You saw how many wild dragons Lord Vincent could control—and what he could do at the Winter Ball. He had us all completely witless. If it hadn’t been for Kalax…” Thea let her words trail off and shook her head.

I frowned. How had Kalax helped Thea? But then I suddenly knew that Thea had heard Kalax and that had shaken her out of the Memory Stone’s control. How could I know that?

I threw the rabbit bones onto the fire even though I really wanted to gulp them down. “If only we’d found the Armor Stone.”

Thea stood and walked to the cave entrance. “Ah, yeah, about that…I realized something. Don’t be mad at me, but…how much of the battle do you remember?”

I stared at her. “Seriously? As if I could forget any of it.” But some bits were…well, they weren’t my memories. I could remember swooping down on wild dragons, driving them out of our territory. I could remember thoughts of a dozen dragons—fury, pain, confusion. I remembered having trouble controlling so many minds—the blood and smoke and the utter joy of battle.

Thea reached into one pocket and pulled out a round, black stone. “This was in my saddle bag. It’s been there ever since I found it in that small, ruined chapel by the coast, where we last searched, remember?”

I nodded. “Yeah…so?”

She hunched down next to me. “Don’t you get it, Seb? We shouldn’t have survived last night. Kalax was attacked by a wild dragon—that black’s claws were out. And what…she got…bumped.”

I shook my head. “We were lucky.”

“An arrow hit Kalax—I thought it hit a buckle, but now I’m thinking it bounced off us because of this.” She put the stone into my hand.

It seemed ordinary. A dull black. Smooth, as if worn by water over a long time. It didn’t sparkle or shine or anything. It didn’t even feel special. I looked at Thea again. “I thought you’d know the Armor Stone as soon as you saw it.”

She stood up, walked away and walked back. “I…well, I kept getting these weird headaches every time I sensed the Memory Stone. I though the Armor Stone would be like that—that it would give me headaches. But this…” She waved at the stone. “It makes me feel calm—and I think it was this stone that helped Kalax break through the Memory Stone’s spell.”

The Dragon eggs grow in those they touch.

Kalax’s thoughts whispered in my head, and I knew Thea had heard her, too.

I also understood Kalax better. The power of the stones was stronger in those who had been touched by the stones. I held up the black stone. “How do we really know this is the Armor Stone?”

“Only one way,” Thea said. And she swung her knife at me.

I wanted to twist and lash out with my tail, and that urge held me still. The knife flashed fast and simply skimmed over my arm as if it had struck real armor. It hadn’t even cut my flying leathers. Face hot, I stared up at Thea. “Are you trying to kill me?”

She nodded and tucked her knife back in its sheath. “That’s the Armor Stone. That’s the proof of it.”

“I thought there’d be…well, more to it. A flash of light, a sense of power, something like the dragon affinity.”

Thea nodded. “Me, too. But…well, it just makes me feel calmer. And, well, I don’t get those headaches. But I also don’t get the same sense I did from any other stone. It’s weird that way. It’s almost like…well, like it has its own armor to help it stay hidden.” She sat down in front of the fire again. “We almost died several times last night, Seb. I know we didn’t in part to your navigation and partly due to Kalax being as brave as she was.” I felt a deep, rumbling purr from Kalax. Thea waved at the Armor Stone. “But we got a lot of help from the Armor Stone.”

I held out the stone. “Here, you should keep it with you—you found it after all.”

You’re chosen by a dragon, not a dragon’s egg!
Kalax huffed the thought into my mind. I kept pushing the stone at Thea. “It’ll keep you safe. I have the dragon affinity, after all.”

She glanced at the stone as if she wasn’t sure she wanted it, but after a moment, she reached out and grabbed it. “I’ll leave it with Kalax in the bag on my saddle. But…now what do we do? You said you had an idea about finding the…the king.”

I stood up. “With the Armor Stone, we have a chance again. And I think Kalax can find the other dragons.”

*

Kalax tried scenting for dragons, but either the wind wasn’t blowing the right way or we were too far. I couldn’t sense dragons, either, except for a few who had left the enclosure to stay with the people of Torvald, who’d fled into the mountains. We were guessing about where to go, but since the commander had been mapping the south, I figured that was as good a place as any. A black haze marked where Torvald stood, and I kept shifting my gaze away from that. Worry for my folks chewed at me, but I knew we needed more help. Rushing back on Kalax wouldn’t get us anything, except maybe into another battle or captured.

Several times, Kalax would swoop down into the valleys and settled under the trees. I knew why—I could sense the wild, black dragons, too. And I knew they were coming from miles away. The wild dragons were always fighting with each other, bickering like kids.

Our dragons were way more confident—more like adults.

Because we have a home and family,
Kalax though to me.

I knew that was right—and I liked that same sense of security. It was one of the best things about being a dragon. But I had to shake off that thought several times. One thing became clear, however. The hold that the Darkening had on the wild dragons seemed to be weaker just here. The wild dragons out here were starting to act more like they were wild, darting across the sky, chasing each other, getting distracted by prey on the ground.

I remembered how, last night, they’d seemed more like a swarm—the Darkening had been directing them. I shelved that information in the back of my mind, wondering if we could make use of it in the future.

We flew on through the day and into early evening. The landscape below had turned from mottled greens and browns to the tan of the desert. In that empty landscape, the pinpricks of firelight easily stood out. I called out to Thea, “Does that look like a camp to you?”

At the same time, Kalax chirruped and was answered by a brief, muted call.

Brothers and sisters
, she thought.

I could sense the other dragons, too, but that only left me uneasy.

“The rest of the riders,” Thea said excitement in her voice.

Kalax glided down toward to ground. At closer range, we could see not just campfires but the white tents of Dragon Riders. The dragons were spread out near a river. It looked like the squadrons hadn’t been in the air in days.

Some training exercise,
I thought.

Kalax called to the other dragons as she chose her landing spot, a little away from the other. And I started to wonder why the squadrons hadn’t come to Torvald’s aid. From this distance they wouldn’t have heard the Dragon Horn, but they must have sensed the enclosure dragons taking flight.

Uneasy now, I stayed on Kalax until she’d landed then slipped from the saddle.

Kalax sniffed the air and suddenly recoiled. “Kalax? What is it?” I asked.

Sickness. There is sickness on this camp.