Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga) (11 page)

“My dear Elias, if you are reading this, it
means that I am dead, and the time for secrecy is over. Please
believe that I only kept things from you for your own safety. I
have been working as a spy for King Mitca for nearly forty cycles,
well before you were born. You already know that your mother died
during the war, shortly after she gave birth to you. Your mother
was Ionela. Your father was Chua, a dragon rider. Some believe that
Chua was a traitor—that he betrayed the riders during the war and
turned spy for the emperor. I never believed it. You will
understand that one day.

I lived among the dwarves for many years. If
you ever find yourself with nowhere to go, make your way to Mount
Velik. The dwarves will shelter you. They owe me at least that
much. This book is my legacy to you. Read it. It holds knowledge of
my spells and maps of the land. You have magical abilities—greater
than my own. I tried to teach you as best I could without
compromising your safety. I wish you would have had a true
apprenticeship under an experienced spellcaster, but it was not to
be. Study these spells, for the information will likely save your
life, or the life of someone you love. Be cautious and trust your
instincts above all else. I am proud of you, my grandson.”

Tears rolled down his
cheeks. Elias folded the note and tucked it into his pocket. Then
he changed his mind, and opened it, reading it again.
“This note is too dangerous for me to
keep,”
he thought. Although it pained him
to do so, he tossed his grandmother’s note into the fire, where it
burned with blue light.
“I’ll never be as
reckless as I was before. Telling that loudmouth Frogar about the
dragon stone cost me everything, but I won’t make the same mistake
again.”

He flipped through the
journal. There were dozens of healing spells, some of which he
already knew. There were also a fair number of defensive spells,
illusions, and even a few attack spells.
“One of these must be the spell that Carina used against the
soldiers,”
he thought. He vowed to
memorize them all, starting with the first. He fell asleep
practicing the spells.

***

Chapter 8:
Duskeye and Tallin

Back in Parthos, Duskeye and Tallin made the
final preparations to leave the Death Sands and fly to the
east.

“
Are you sure that you
want to do this?” asked Sela once again, still surprised that
Tallin volunteered for this mission. He was fiercely protective of
his dragon, and rarely took any risks that put Duskeye in
danger.

“We are sure,”
said Duskeye, answering for both of
them.

“Please be careful; we cannot afford to lose
you.” Sela put her hand on Tallin’s shoulder briefly. He flinched,
unaccustomed to human contact. Sela realized how isolated he must
have felt over the years, with only his dragon as his companion. He
had forsaken everything—a normal life, friends, children, even a
mate, in order to guarantee their survival.

“Do not concern yourself. We are prepared.
We will leave the desert boundary at sunset. We will be concealed
by a cloaking spell for our entire journey. The emperor will not
discover us.” Tallin tightened the leather saddle and checked his
bags. He didn’t need much in the way of provisions. Both of them
were accustomed to surviving off the land.

Duskeye nodded, agreeing with his rider,
while scratching his pale belly.

“Ach! These heavy packs
will take some getting used to,”
said
Duskeye. Usually, Tallin rode Duskeye with a simple camel hide. But
for this longer journey, they decided to borrow a proper dragon
saddle from Sela.

The beautiful saddle was old—and of dwarvish
origin. The saddle was made from cowhide and beaten silver. The
reins were braided leather and horsehair. There was a protective
layer of felted wool between the saddle and the dragon, in order to
prevent chafing. This saddle was designed for long distances.

Tallin asked the palace servants to bring a
few more mealcakes, which he placed into his saddle pack. He
stepped into the reins and mounted Duskeye.

“I will send a message to you when we reach
the eastern border. Once we leave the desert, we will travel only
at night. If Chua is alive, we will find him.” Sela nodded. Tallin
was a powerful spellcaster. He could hide in broad daylight, and
scry at vast distances, something he learned when he lived in the
desert. Most of the other dragon riders could scry messages using
water, but Tallin was the only one who could scry using smoke, a
useful skill when finding a source of water was uncertain.

“Good blessings, Tallin. You too, Duskeye,”
she said, patting the dragon’s leg.

“Thank you, my
lady,”
responded Duskeye.
“We shall be careful.”

Duskeye stretched, and then spread his
sapphire wings and took flight. Tallin did not look back or wave.
He looked straight ahead, staring impassively across the desert
sands.

They flew in silence for over an hour.
Tallin took this time to meditate and rest his mind for the
cloaking spell. Tallin was adept at conserving magical energy, and
he knew that maintaining the cloaking spell for days would be
exhausting.

“Are you ready, old
friend?”
asked Duskeye.

“Yes. I am ready. We are almost at the
desert’s border. Let us stop at that plateau. I see an overhang
that will conceal us. Dusk will fall within the hour, and then we
will cross.” Duskeye landed on the plateau and Tallin dismounted.
He drank water and relieved himself. Then dragon and rider both sat
down in silence and waited for the sun to set. A slight breeze
stirred the air, kicking up tiny swirls of red dust.

Dragon and rider watched
the magnificent sunset, the sky streaked with purple and yellow
light. The desert sky was beautiful.
“I
will miss the beauty of this place,”
thought Tallin. This would be their first trip outside the
desert in decades.

“We will be back soon, old
friend,”
said Duskeye.

“I know,” said Tallin. “Hopefully, we will
return to Parthos with another rider. If Chua is alive, we must
find him.

Part Two: The Escape from
Darkmouth Forest

***

Chapter 9:
The Gates of Jutland

Elias awoke with a start. He looked around
frantically. He had forgotten where he was. The fireplace had
puttered out, and there was only ash. He shivered. It was going to
be a cold morning.

Thorin was already awake and dressed,
crouched by the window.

“Brrr… it’s cold in here. Thorin, did it
snow again last night?”

“Shhh! Quiet, Elias!” he said, putting a
finger to his lips. “I’m listening to the conversation
outside.”

Elias got up and walked to the window. Two
food merchants were chattering right outside the door. He could
hear bits and pieces of their conversation. Dwarves had exceptional
hearing, so Thorin was able to clearly hear everything they
said.

“Yup, they came to the gate this morning,
asking about a boy,” said the first man. “Said the boy was mageborn
and Vosper’s lookin’ for him. The reward’s 100 silver coins to
anyone who finds him.” The man was short and fat, pulling a cart
filled with lemons.

“That’s a nice sum. Did they post a notice?
What does he look like?”

“That’s the problem. Brown hair, brown eyes,
but otherwise nobody knows for sure. He looks like half the bloody
boys in town! If here’s here, they’ll find ‘im. They brought a
necromancer along.” The man shivered as he said it.

“Ugh, did you get a good look at ‘im? Are
their eyes really all black?”

“This one was a female—if you could even
call it that. I saw her early this mornin’, near Isley’s Pub. Her
hair was black, her eyes were black, and her teeth were red—and
sharpened into points. She laughed at something, and it sounded
like a dying buzzard. She near scared me to death!”

“The female necromancers are
frightening—more frightening than the males!”

“If you see her, don’t look straight at her.
She might freeze you to death, or lay a curse on you. I tell you,
those necromancers make my blood run cold.”

The men continued to talk as they made their
way to the city square.

Thorin looked up. “This is bad news, Elias.
There’s no way you can fight a necromancer and win. She would
overpower you in an instant. We cannot stay in Jutland.”

“The emperor sent a necromancer looking for
me? But why?” said Elias. “I don’t understand this.”

“I don’t, either. But it doesn’t matter. We
have to leave the city. It’s better if we go immediately.
Necromancers are more powerful at night. If we try to leave after
sunset, she will find you for sure. We will leave within the hour.
I must tell Floki.” Thorin walked to the bedroom and knocked on the
door. Elias heard murmured voices, and then a loud gasp. Halda
started weeping again, this time more loudly.

Floki and Thorin walked back out into the
living room. “Both of you must go,” Floki said grimly. “The best
chance you have is to conceal yourselves. They will be looking for
a boy, so you cannot leave the city on mounted horseback. We will
load up a cart with hides, and Elias will hide inside the cart.
Then you can take the horses and leave the cart outside the city. I
will come back after nightfall and tell the guards that I was
robbed by bandits.”

“We have to put as much distance as possible
between ourselves and the city,” said Thorin.

“What can I do to help?” asked Elias.

“Didn’t your grandmother teach you any
concealment spells?” asked Thorin.

“No—No, not really. But I saw one in her
journal. I don’t know how effective it will be.”

“Well, practice it,” said Thorin. “Your
simple spell won’t stop the necromancer, but it may be enough to
fool the guards at the gate.”

“I will start practicing the spell now,”
said Elias. His grandmother’s little book of spells was coming in
handy already. Elias walked out to the stable, hitting the earthy
smell of manure and horses. It was welcoming, and it reminded him
of home. Thorin had two beautiful stallions and three mares. Elias
sat down in a dark corner, opened the precious journal, and started
practicing the spell quietly.

***

Thorin and Floki worked fast. Thorin hummed
a song quietly under his breath, packing the cart and the
horses.

“Thorin, use only the light pack,” said
Floki. “We want the guards to believe that this is just a daytrip
to Gardarsholm.”

Halda came outside with some corncakes and
dried beef strips. The simple food would sustain them for a few
days if they rationed it properly. Her eyes were red from
crying.

“Floki, should I start packing our things?”
she asked, her voice trembling.

“Yes. We must leave with the children
immediately. Do not tell anyone where we are going. You must be
ready to leave when I return. Pack rations and our coin purses. It
is too dangerous for us to linger in Jutland any longer.”

“B-but the baby, Floki…” Halda’s lower lip
trembled.

“It cannot be helped,” he responded,
grasping both her shoulders. “The emperor hates dwarves almost as
much as he hates dragons, and his necromancer will not hesitate to
kill all of us. If we stay here, it is only a matter of time before
we are questioned and killed. They will not spare our children,
Halda. You know this.”

Halda nodded, lowering her head. Her eyes
streamed with tears. She knew that her husband told the truth. The
only safe place for them now was Mount Velik. They had to try and
make it there. She didn’t blame Thorin and Elias, but it hurt just
the same. They had built a life together in Jutland, and now, to be
uprooted with so little warning was painful.

Thorin cleared his throat and coughed
politely, “Floki, sorry to interrupt, but the horses are ready to
go.”

“Alright. Parvel!” said Floki, calling again
for his young son.

“Yes, Papa?” answered Parvel, who came
running from inside the house.

“Go find Elias and tell him it’s time get
going. He’s somewhere in the stables. Don’t be too loud,
though.”

Parvel bolted to the stables, calling Elias’
name.

“This is my chance to test
the spell,”
Elias thought to himself. He
read the runes out loud, carefully, “Hud-leyna!” He saw a shimmer
in the air, and then it stabilized. He couched in the corner, in
plain sight. The sensation was peculiar—he felt as though he was
sitting inside an egg.

Parvel entered the stable and walked back
and forth, calling his name. He walked past Elias twice, just
inches away from him. He scratched his head quizzically.

“Elias? Are you in here? I can hear you
breathing, but I can’t see you.”

Elias released the spell,
frowning.
“Blast! Parvel could still sense
I was here,”
he thought.

“Oh, there you are! Were you spellcasting?”
asked Parvel, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“Yes, I was. It didn’t work. You could still
hear me,” Elias said, disappointed.

“No, it worked! I couldn’t see you.
Remember, I’m part dwarf. My hearing is better than yours. I don’t
think that a normal human would have heard you.”

“That’s true, isn’t it?” said Elias. “Maybe
we’ll get lucky at the gate after all.” Parvel and Elias walked out
to meet Thorin and Floki.

“Papa! Elias cast a hiding spell. I couldn’t
see him, but he was right in front of me!” said Parvel.

“Aye! That’s great news, boy,” said Thorin,
smiling broadly. “You’ve got the hang of it, then?”