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

“Riders, stow those saddles and get off my platform.” Commander Hegarty barked out the orders. He was looking pretty annoyed, his eyes a darker gray than usual, his hands on his hips and his face red. He was a short man with a wiry strength, and he always looked in control, but right now he kept smoothing his mustache as if he was worried it would start twitching and betray some emotion.

“What’s got him so riled up?” Seb asked. Kalax had just alighted on the landing platform and we hadn’t even had time to dismount. Kalax grumbled—even I knew that tone of her voice—and I shrugged. Then a word popped into my head.

Fish!

I laughed, and Seb turned in his saddle to look at me. “Did you hear that? Kalax saying fish?” he grinned.

“Of course,” I muttered. “You’re not the only one that Kalax talks to.”

“But it shows you’re getting better at it.”

“Riders—move!” Hegarty yelled again.

Seb unclipped his harness and slid to the wooden platform below. I did the same.

We stood on one of the several large platforms that sat atop the walls of the Dragon Academy, overlooking the training ground, barracks, keep and lodgings. This was our home. From here, we could even see the tiered levels of Torvald spread out below the walls. I loved it up here where I could feel the wind in my hair, and hear the banners snap. It was a place where I felt I belonged.

But the commander was glaring at everyone—not just us, other riders, too. We quickly started to unharness Kalax.

“Didn’t you hear me? Not three months out of training and you think you’re above taking orders? Let me remind you, you haven’t been assigned to a squadron yet. You’re late, and I’ve important visitors coming in.”

Seb rubbed Kalax’s nose, but I turned to the commander. “Sorry, Commander Hegarty, but we had to escort the captured bandits to the citadel for trial, sir.”

The commander shook his head and moved off.

Nudging my elbow, Seb said, “Come on, give me those saddles. I’ll take them down to the kit shed.”

I shook my head. “You’re the one with the special connection to Kalax. You look after her, I’ll take the saddles. I’ll meet you down in the keep later.”

“Want to head into the city to eat tonight?” Seb asked, sliding onto the broad neck of Kalax. Not many could ride their dragons without a saddle, but Seb was getting better and better at it. He also seemed to be enjoying the fact that as riders—and not just cadets—we could come and go as we liked and didn’t have to sneak out like we used to.

“Sure, whatever,” I waved Seb off. He had to get Kalax back to the enclosure and I wanted our gear put away.

Heading down the wide, stone stairs to the equipment shed, I wondered why my mood had soured. Usually a fight got my blood flowing. Today, I just wished I could head up into the hills and not have anyone around. Was it due to Seb acting odd today—almost trying to keep us out of combat with those bandits? I didn’t know.

The equipment shed was busy with other riders cleaning and oiling their harnesses. The floor had been scrubbed by someone unlucky enough to get that job and smelled faintly of lavender and meadowsweet, and the dirt of the practice yards had been raked. Obviously, Commander Hegarty had wanted the academy looking great.

Grabbing a brush and a pot of leather oils, I set to work cleaning our gear.

The Dragon Horns sounded, a light fanfare. Someone was arriving and a ripple of excitement spread through the shed. Everyone moved fast, putting away gear and cleaning up.

How times had changed since I was a cadet.

I had the weight of a sword at my hip, a dragon bow and quiver of steel-tipped arrows that I could hang next to my saddle. And Seb and I were given missions now—even if some were simply to scare local bandits.

Heading outside, I saw shadows flicker over the ground. The cries of approaching dragons shook the air. I heard others muttering and looked up to see the very large and very ancient royal dragon Erufon. He was easy to spot for he was a very rare Gold, his scales a deep yellow-orange. Erufon was also big. He’d once been the mount of King Durance, before the king himself had to give up riding due to injury and to losing his navigator. But Erufon never left the royal enclosure, so it was unusual to see him.

I quickly realized why the Gold was here, as other dragons were landing on the platforms. The platforms filled with dragons. I knew the green dragon of Prince Justin and my brother, Ryan, and the large blue of my eldest brother, Reynalt and his navigator. Beside them a host of smaller dragons—all the mounts of senior riders, captains, and even an ambassador—crowded the platforms.

The horn sounded again. Commander Hegarty and Instructor Mordecai moved forward to greet the royal and other guests who’d flown to the academy. I was glad that I didn’t see Seb and Kalax still on the platforms—that would have brought the wrath of Mordecai down on both of us and we’d end up raking the practice yard.

Large and hunched over, Mordecai seemed a twisted man—at least on the outside. He had a sharp nose and stringy gray hair. Almost everyone disliked him. I’d heard he had been a Dragon Rider a long time ago, but his dragon had died, and his partner, unable to take the loss, had thrown himself from the observation tower. I didn’t know if that was true, but what was true was that he was a bitter man.

Leaning against the shed wall, I tried to stay out of Mordecai’s sight and wondered if I could catch a moment with either of my brothers. One of them might tell me why there was all this fuss. Obviously, these were important matters.

I waited by the door to the equipment shed, until I saw the commander and the others head inside the keep, then I waved to Ryan and headed to his side.

Grinning, he caught me up in a hug.

I punched his arm. “What, the navigator to none other than Prince Justin himself is going to be seen hugging his sister?”

Ryan set me on my feet again. “What trouble are you getting into, Thea?”

I shook my head. “None at all.”

He gave me a sideways look. “This is Ryan, not Reynalt you’re talking to. Our older brother might believe your stories, but I don’t. Come on—tell me.”

“Just cleaning my harness. After catching some bandits.”

Frowning, he let out a breath. “Don’t tell Mother.”

“Mother should have seen me shooting bandits.”

Ryan groaned. “And don’t tell her that. Ever!”

“What? Are you ashamed of me being a rider…a protector?” The itch under my skin clawed at me, making me want to claw back at Ryan.

He shook his head. “Of course not. Nothing as close as a Flamma and his dragon, right? Well, her dragon.” Ryan looked earnestly sincere, his eyes soft and warm, and his eyebrows flattened. I knew the look well. It was the same one that he had used ever since he had been a child stealing apple tarts.

“Bad enough that I have to put up with all the looks from the other senior riders—a girl as protector, Lady Agathea not acting much of a Lady. As if I did nothing to prove myself by saving King’s Village. No…it was my dragon, Kalax, who did the deed. Even Seb’s been looking at me as if I’m made of porcelain!”

Ryan shook his head and held up his hands in front of him. “It’s not like that.”

Punching a finger into his dragon armor, I told him, “No Ryan, I’ve had enough. Everyone knows I’m one of the best fighters, but Commander Hegarty has us chasing bandits and watching the roads. The Darkening is still out there…and trouble is coming. You know that. It that why the prince is here? To talk to Hegarty about that?”

“Agathea!” Ryan said, his tone sharp.

His good humor had vanished. Standing before me wasn’t my fun-loving brother, but a serious commander. He shook his head and said a little more gently, “You were told to not talk about that. Remember? Not at all. Not to anyone. There are enough stories about the Darkening without more being added. Do you want to create a panic?”

Mouth pressed tight, I shook my head.

Ryan put a hand on my shoulder. “I know you have questions, Thea, and I know you’re better than what the commander has you doing right now. But you have to trust him—and trust in Reynalt, Prince Justin, and me.”

“Something’s happening, isn’t it? I can see it in your eyes. Something important. That’s why all of you came here.” I stepped closer and dropped my voice lower. “It’s to do with the Darkening isn’t it? Lord Vincent and the Dragon Stones?” It had to be. Why else would they all be here, and why would Commander Hegarty be so short with everyone if he wasn’t worried.

My brother sighed and glanced around as if to make certain we weren’t overheard. But almost everyone else had gone into the keep for the evening meal. Ryan wet his lips and said, his voice fierce, “You died in that cavern. If it hadn’t been for Commander Hegarty and Seb, you wouldn’t be here. You of all people, know the danger we face. And that we cannot alarm Torvald with rumors and tales.”

Sudden, quick memories came back—a stabbing pain, the glint of light on Lord Vincent’s sword, a cloying, suffocating darkness, and a sensation like falling. I shook my head. “I didn’t die, Ryan.”

“Only because of the Healing Stone. Hegarty used it to bring you back. But even that is something not to be spoken of. The Dragon Stones are—”

“A myth. A story. So powerful they must be guarded. I know all that. You don’t need to treat me like a child. But because I know, those are all the reasons to tell me why you’re here and what’s going on.”

He pressed his mouth closed and his stare slid away. “We’re bringing Erufon to the main enclosure. The king himself ordered it, saying that it was unfair to keep Erufon alone. It’s hoped he may even breed and we’ll have a new line of golds.”

“Dragon poop!” I hissed. I could always tell when he was lying because he wouldn’t look at me. “You and the prince have been away for a long time. Why, in the last three months I’ve hardly seen you, but I have seen riders coming back saddle-sore and looking as though they’ve been flying for weeks. Do you think we’re all blind here?”

Ryan frowned again.

I grabbed his arm. “You’re out looking for the Darkening, and the other Dragon Stones. King’s Village was saved, but you’ve been trying to find Lord Vincent—and discover if he has new forces? In the north or the wild lands and the mountains.”

“Agathea
Flamma!”
Ryan snapped out the words and drew himself up. He knocked away my hand. “I am going to give you two bits of advice, one as your senior officer, and one as your brother, and you probably won’t like either of them but that’s your problem. As your senior, I am saying you need to let this go. Ever since that…well, you know what, you’ve become…I don’t know, more eager to throw yourself into harm’s way. You need to stop. Give yourself time to heal. And leave the business of the senior riders to them. As your brother, I am going to only say this—our mother is worried for you as is our father.”

“When are they not?” I muttered.

He gave me another sharp, disapproving look. “We didn’t tell Mother what happened to you in King’s Village. Father knows. But both have been talking about how important it is to have a stable family—as you would know if you ever visited home. But no…you want danger and you court disaster.”

I shook my head. “I’m not.’”

Ryan shrugged. “Mother’s been arguing with Father about what’s best for the family as a whole. And she’s swaying him. They look to the future for the name Flamma.”

“Fine—if they are worried, you marry. I’ve no interest. I’m a Dragon Rider!”

Ryan looked away. “What if the prince agrees with them?”

I laughed, but Ryan didn’t. “Please…I’ve known Prince Justin since…well, forever.”

“I know. We’ve shared nurseries and tutors. The prince wants what is not just best for you, but for a royal house as well.” Ryan put a hand on my shoulder again. “It’s all a part of being a noble and being a rider. You must walk in two worlds. So keep yourself safe. Make Mother and Father happy. Wear a dress every now and again and don’t give anyone a reason to petition the king for your removal.”

Waves of rage and terror battled inside me. Ryan patted my shoulder and moved away, but I could only stand there, sucking in huge breaths of air, my skin hot and my fists clenched. We were the king’s riders—we were here to do his bidding, so if he asked any of us to step down, we must. That would leave Seb without a protector—he would have to stop being a rider, too. And Kalax…I would never see Kalax again. I’d never fly the skies, I’d never stand on the landing platforms and turn my face to the wind, and I’d never fight for my country and king.

I headed back into the shed to scrub the dragon harness and fight off my frustrations. They would do me no good. I needed my wits about me to fight this new enemy—my own family.

*

Laughter. Loud talk. Then the smell of ale and unwashed bodies hit me as soon as I opened the door to the Troll’s Head. I’d sent word to Thea to meet me there, but I hadn’t seen her since we’d parted ways on the landing platform. I’d flown Kalax next to her in the enclosure, and by the time I’d walked back, Thea was gone from the equipment shed. I couldn’t find her in the keep, so I’d asked Varla to tell Thea I’d meet her at the Troll’s Head.

I slid into a seat at a table in the back. The noise, the bustle of serving maids and the crowd of workers at the bar stirred memories of my dad. Mostly, I remembered him coming home, stinking of strong ale. If we were lucky, he was too drunk for anything more than stew out of the kettle and falling asleep in front of the hearth. If we were unlucky, he would start shouting about whatever imagined slight he’d suffered that day, working himself into a fit.

That’s not me.

I looked at the tankard of cheap mead that sat before me—it no longer seemed a tasty drink.

Someone banged against the table and I looked up. A large man in a dirty, gray cloak was weaving his way through the crowd. I glimpsed a hint of a beard speckled with gray. Ripples of annoyance followed the man, and voices around the bar turned to grumbling.

The mood in here tonight was bad, and I wondered why.

The Troll’s Head stood at the top of Torvald, near Dragon Mountain itself, and only a short walk from the academy. Over the years, it had acquired bits and pieces from various Dragon Riders—banners, or a tooth from a famous dragon, broken harnesses and worn saddles. I had even found three items from Flamma history—Thea always hated it whenever anyone pointed them.

Oh yeah, that was Grandfather Brutus’ armor, and Great-Great Uncle Marcosia used that saddle.

She shrugged it off that some of the bravest and most well-known Dragon Riders in Torvald history were of her blood. I thought she was worried she wouldn’t live up to their reputations, but why did she worry so much? I shook my head. Who would have thought that the son of a smith from Mongers’ Lane and a noble with the best training money could buy would be matched by a dragon’s choice. Kalax had picked each of us.

I sipped my mead and looked around the tavern.

A few riders were here, both the warrior protectors and their pilot navigators, along with soldiers. Their tunics gave away their trade. So did the rough wool jerkins of the woodcutters and the dusty clothes of the stone masons. From the looks of some of the riders, they’d been doing a lot of hard flying. The faces I could see looked drawn and pale, and the riders were leaning back in their seats as if exhausted. Some still had on dusty tunics, and I pitied them if Commander Hegarty ever saw them—not that he’d ever come to the Troll’s Head that I knew of.

One young rider raised his tankard and muttered, “To the campaign!”

An older rider slapped him on the leg. “Get down with your nonsense and hush.”

I frowned—what campaign was that?

A voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Drinking alone, are we, Sebastian?” Turning, I saw Beris with his navigator, Syl, and Shakasta behind them. That lot never went anywhere without each other. And Beris drew out my name like it was an insult. He still seemed to think no one from Monger’s Lane had any right to be a rider—or maybe he just didn’t like me.

“I’m waiting for Thea,” I said and instantly cursing myself for even responding to him.

Beris waved at my mug. “Looks like you’ve been left to your cups. What’s wrong—everyone tired of your company?”

Behind him, Shakasta snickered. The surrounding noise level had gone up, so no one noticed—except me.

I stared at the three of them. I was a Dragon Rider now. I didn’t care what they thought.

Beris smiled and leaned a hand on the rough wood of my table. “Don’t you know why the commander has you out on patrol? Why you are just flying around and around and aren’t out with a real squadron?”

I gritted my teeth. It was true. We’d had constant road-patrol duties of late—that and more training. We hadn’t been assigned a squadron yet. And we hadn’t been asked to protect our borders. I didn’t mind, but Thea did. And I was sure the commander was worried for us.

What effect did nearly dying have on anyone? And was Thea really fully healed? At times, I was sure she was, but at other times, I thought she looked pale and she tired more easily. Sometimes it just seemed her mind was somewhere else a long way off.

Of course, the events that had led to Lord Vincent’s defeat were known to only a very few. Commander Hegarty himself had sworn us to secrecy. I couldn’t talk about them now.

Staring up at Beris, I shrugged. “Protecting the king’s roads is as important as his borders. We stopped some bandits today. That’s probably more action than any of you’ve seen.”

Beris’ face reddened. He straightened. “Been fighting bandits? A dragon against what—a few old men with sticks and bare fists?”

Now Syl laughed, too. I gritted my teeth. Anger uncoiled in my gut.

Enemy? Fight?
In my mind I could see Kalax stirring in her cave.

No. It’s okay.

It hadn’t occurred to me that I could be sharing my feelings with Kalax—not at this distance. Something new to worry about. I sighed and bit back on everything I was feeling.

Grinning, Beris said, “Well, when you’re done with the petty criminals, Seb, you can think about us. We’re the ones dealing with wild dragons up in the Leviathan Mountains!” Beris and his friends moved away, and I stared at my drink.

What if Beris was right? The commander had once thought well of Thea and Kalax and me, but we’d also done a lot of things that were against orders. Those wild dragons Beris had mentioned might be the same ones that had fled after we had routed the Darkening. Was that the campaign that young rider had mentioned? Were those dragons still causing trouble?

Jensen and Wil slid into the seats opposite me. Jensen was one of the best protectors. He was another noble, but he never reminded anyone of that. “Beris is a fool.”

My face warmed. So they’d heard everything that had been said. I shrugged and asked, “Is it true? Are squadrons chasing wild dragons?”

Jensen’s gaze slid away. “Between you and me, it’s wasted effort. They’re just chasing cattle and the odd flock of sheep. They’re not much use—or much of a danger.”

I frowned—I remembered wild dragons, black ones, that were a danger. A very big danger.

Merik and Varla headed over to our table. Tall and thin, Merik stood out with his dark skin and even blacker hair. He wore special optics to see, and right now he pushed them up on his nose. Varla also stood out with her pale skin and the long, red hair she wore pulled back into a braid. They were flying partners, along with Jensen and Wil. I was the only rider here alone. But I didn’t want to think about that, so I asked Jensen what he’d been doing.

Jensen shifted in his seat. He’d been letting his brown hair grow long and it was getting shaggy. He pushed a hand through it now. “Our captain’s just has us chasing after wild beasts that threaten farmers. Anyway—you never heard that from me.” He stood, and he and Wil, who seemed like Jensen’s shadow these days, walked away to find their own table.

Merik and Varla sat, Varla ordering broth and Merik stew. Merik didn’t like strong drink, and neither did Varla. Like Thea, Varla was a protector. Her dragon, Feradima had accepted Merik as navigator, and as a second choice. That hardly ever happened, but the three made a good team. Varla also shared a room with Thea, so I asked, “Seen Thea?”

“She was hanging around the practice yard,” Varla said and dug into her bowl of broth. “Her brothers are here.”

“She’s been pretty annoyed these days,” Merik said.

I nodded. In some ways I wondered if the Healing Stone had changed her. I didn’t really trust magic—you never really knew what it was going to cost. My old man had always said you never get something for nothing, and now I knew what he’d meant.

“So—she’s visiting her brothers?” I was still annoyed with Beris, and I knew it came out in my voice.

Merik opened his mouth as if he was about to say something. He gave a muffled grunt, and Varla shifted, as if she’d just kicked him under the table. She said, “They’re bringing old Erufon to the enclosure.” She glanced around and leaned closer. “But I think something else is up.”

“I don’t think it’s just chasing after wild dragons.” Merik lowered his voice. “I think they’re looking for something…for the Armor Stone.”

Someone bumped into the table, and I looked up to see the same old man in the tattered, gray cloak that I’d seen earlier. He spilled a little of his beer on the table, waved an apology and headed back into the crowds.

Perhaps it was just my suspicious mind, but I wondered if we should be worried about spies, I glanced at Merik. “Let’s not talk about that here.”

“Talk about what?” Thea said, sitting down next to me. She ordered food, discarded her cloak and smiled.

I didn’t trust that smile—I’d seen it too many times and knew what it meant. I didn’t want to ask about it.

But she leaned her elbows on the table and said, “I saw my brother Ryan today. Something’s up with the Darkening. I’m sure of it. I think they’re having a council of war at the academy.” Her cheeks warmed as she talked, as if she was only too happy at the prospect of a blood-curdling battle.

Varla told her about the wild dragons being chased, and Thea nodded. “We might be going to war again. Soon.”

I sipped my mead and told her, “That’s not a good thing.”

“If we defeated Lord Vincent once, we can do it again,” Thea said.

Someone started to play a guitar. Others started to sing. I was glad of it. We could more easily talk without being heard. Turning to Thea, I told her, “He still has the Memory Stone. If the rumors are true, he’s still turning villages into his army.”

She rolled her eyes. Her stew came. She poked at it with a spoon. “I know all of that—I know it only too well. The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

I glanced at Merik and Varla. They swapped a glance, and then Varla leaned in. “We were looking around the old library…just for any old tales about…well, you know. Some stories refer to the three stones separately. That this great king had the Armor Stone, and so defeated the Wildmen of J’hul, or that the Healing Stone was used to save some princess or another. The trouble is that none of these legends match up. It’s like they were written by someone who had only heard the tales. But…the stones are always large and egg-shaped…sometimes they glow, sometimes they crack open—other times they even make a noise.”

I frowned. “Like what?”

Varla made a face. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that the oldest story has two clues…armor was used at a battle high up on Leviathan Mountain but a monk took the Armor Stone afterwards to Wychwood.” She went back to eating her broth.

I stared at her. “Do you know how big Leviathan Mountain is? And Wychwood? That’s nowhere near there and even bigger.”

Merik nodded. “My old gran used to tell me stories that the last time the Darkening rose, the Armor Stone made the king’s gold dragon invincible as he fought the final battle above Leviathan Mountain.”

Thea thumped the table. “So we go there.”

Merik glanced around and shook his head. “That’s not the story Varla dug up. In that, the stone went to a princess to keep her safe as she led her own forces to Wychwood. And then a monk took it after the king died and fled to some far off monastery to keep it safe.”

Thea growled. I stared at my mead. “On a mountainside or in a forest…it’s obvious no one wanted it found.”

“It’s got to be. There are three stones—we know that for a fact. The commander has one - hidden. Lord Vincent had one, and we can’t let him get something like perfect armor. We need to get the third stone,” Thea said, shooting me an annoyed glance. “The next free day we have, Seb and I we’ll search Leviathan Mountain. Varla, you and Merik, take Wychwood.”

“You’re forgetting other Dragon Riders are out there on patrol. We’ll end up on report,” I told her.

“We have to do something,” Thea said.

I started to tell her we could wait—that waiting wasn’t always a bad thing. But an uneasy sense of being watched came over me. I shivered and looked up. The old man in the gray cloak was watching our table. He ducked his head and turned as if I’d caught him in the act.

Frowning, I stood. The old man made for the door. At the door, he threw a glance back over his shoulder and straight at our table. For a brief moment our eyes locked, and I could see sharp eyes peering out from the hood. These were not the signs of drunkenness I knew so well, having seen them in my father —and that man was not drunk.

Jumping up from the table, I started after him.

“Hey!” Varla said.

“What is it?” Thea asked.

I pushed through the crowd—why was that man watching us, who was he? I wanted answers. The tavern door swung closed behind the cloaked figure. Bursting out into the cold night after him, I looked up and down the cobbled road. He seemed to have vanished. I couldn’t hear footsteps or see his gray cloak.

Heading around the back of the tavern, I glanced into the stables, my heart hammering. Nothing. Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned to see Thea dragging on her cloak. “What is it?”