Dragon Trials (Return of the Darkening Book 1) (18 page)

They stood before oddly-shaped pillars of stones that rose from the cavern floor. One man looked a broad-shouldered warrior, clad in mail, with leather binders and a black, fur cloak. He held a heavy mace in one hand. Around him lay strewn rocks, and his face gleamed with sweat as if he’d been pounding at the stone. He looked as big as my brother, Reynalt, but with his scarred face, I would wager he was far meaner.

The second figure, though, worried me more. Long, dark hair was held back with a strand of silver, such as the kings of old might wear. His dressed in black, with studded gauntlets, and I caught of flash of something from his chest—a jewel of some kind, I guessed. His pale, narrow face twisted with anger. “It’s not here.”

His voice sent shivers down my spine. It was somehow cold, icy as a storm in the depths of winter. For an instant, I felt almost compelled to step forward. Next to me, Seb shifted. I put a hand on him to keep him put.

The older warrior glanced at the man in black. “It has to be. The scroll said the mine of old, and this is the oldest known.”

These men had to be here searching for the dragon stones, but from the sound of it, they hadn’t found them. Next to me, Seb shifted and made as if to rise. I put a hand on him and he stilled again.

“Lord Vincent, I’ve searched everywhere. That cursed scholar lied to us before he died.”

Lord Vincent turned to the warrior. “Wulfric, should I take your head now for your failure?” Wulfric bowed his head, his face pale in the flickering torchlight.

Who was this Lord Vincent that he had so much power that he could terrify an obviously capable warrior?

“I will stay and search for the second stone again,” Wulfric said.

I tugged on Seb’s sleeve. It was time for us to leave. But Seb eyes had glazed. He stared at Lord Vincent—no at the jewel Lord Vincent wore—as if he could not look away.

He slipped from my hold and stood, his boot knocking a chunk of loose rock that clattered away.

With a swirl of his black cloak, Lord Vincent turned and barked, “Who goes there.”

Again, I felt compelled to step forward. But then green flashed from the jewel Lord Vincent wore. I looked away from that gem—if this was the same one the old man in the woods had run into, it could make me mindless. And was it already working on Seb? I needed a distraction, and something to shake Seb from his seeming trance, so I stood and shouted, “In the name of Torvald, you are wanted for crimes against the Innocent, acts of war against the rightful king. In the king’s name, I bid you to come peacefully.”

Lord Vincent stiffened and his lips curved in a faint smile “What is this? Who sends children after me?” He fingered the jewel on his chest.

I stared at his boots and kept my blade in front of me. “I am Agathea of the House Flamma and I bid you yield.”

Lord Vincent laughed. “It would almost be a shame to dirty my blade on you, but what are two more casualties in what will be an all too short war?” He drew his long sword in a smooth flourish.

I tried to bluff, to buy us time until I thought of a plan. “Really...a sword? I thought the black rider who commanded the Darkening would use the Memory Stone at the least.”

He narrowed his eyes and his stare swept up and down over me. He put up a hand to touch the green jewel that hung from a chain around his neck. “So you know of the Memory Stone—how…interesting?”

I wet my lips. “I know more—I know that the three stones bring great power.”

“Power? They do more than that, my little Flamma girl. But what I want is the one stone—the Dragon Stone, for that will give me use of all the stones together. I will be immortal—invincible. I will control the world.” He smiled. “As to the Memory Stone, I have an army of slaves to do my bidding. Spending any more of my concentration on two children is not worth my time.”

So it is difficult to bend another to your will?
I thought of the old man. He’d been able to shake off the spell. Perhaps because he had Flamma blood in him, or perhaps because one of his kin had been a Dragon Rider...or perhaps just because this black rider was overextended. The gypsy stories had said the Dragon Riders could defeat the Darkening. There had to be a way I could use that to my advantage, along with Seb’s dragon affinity.

I tried to reach out to Kalax, to poke her so she would poke at Seb. It seemed to work, for Seb blinked suddenly and seemed to come back to his old self.

But Wulfric leapt forward at Seb, swinging his studded mace. Seb darted to one side and the mace crashed down on a rock pillar, shattering the top.

I turned. Lord Vincent strode toward me, his blade glittering in the torchlight. He lurched, aiming his sword at my heart.

Swinging up my sword, I managing to parry the blow and returned one. Lord Vincent parried my wild swing with ease. I stepped to the side, putting a stone pillar between us. I couldn’t beat such a tall man with my strength and anger. I needed something more.

Beside me, I heard a grunt. I glanced at Seb and saw him block another blow from Wulfric, then ramming forward with the butt of his sword at the warrior’s head. Light flashed and I turned. Lord Vincent’s blade snickered toward me.

We swapped blows, our swords ringing. Breathing hard already, sweat dripping into my eyes, I had to yield ground. Lord Vincent’s mouth curved, and I had the sense he was playing with me. He had the longer reach and the greater strength. I had…I had my connection with Kalax, and Seb.

I couldn’t do this on my own—I needed them. I needed a moment’s distraction and help, and so I reached out to Kalax, hoping she would hear.

Need help. A roar…something.

From across the cavern, Seb gave a roar—and I heard the distant echo from above from Kalax. They’d heard me.

For an instant, Lord Vincent hesitated—he’d heard Kalax, but he wasn’t sure what to make of the roar.

I reacted at once, spinning into a turn and extending my arm and sword. The blade skittered across my opponent’s chest, scoring his armor and severing the silver chain that held the green, egg-shaped stone.

Vincent stumbled backwards. I seized the Memory Stone from the ground. It burned in my hand, seared my fingers, and for an instant the world blurred around me.

It seems as if I saw everything—armies gathering, the world through the eyes of black dragons. Like in my dreams, darkness swallowed me, held me fast. I was lost in it.

Beside me, Seb butted Wulfric with his body, pushing him so Wulfric’s unprotected head thudded into a rocky outcrop. He fell to the floor.

I watched, held fast by the stone for an instant as Lord Vincent stood—right behind Seb, that narrow, pale face pulled into a snarl.

The darkness held me—just like my nightmares of old. I was losing myself in it. But within the darkness, a light gleamed. Kalax’s thoughts flew to me—her worry for us, her need to help.

Need to help
, I thought. And I needed to be the Dragon Rider I’ve always wanted to be, no matter what it cost me.

With a cry, I pushed back against the tug of the Memory Stone. I was a Flamma—a Dragon Rider. I had the blood of centuries of Dragon Riders within me. I pushed Seb away. Lifting my sword, I turned, but not quick enough. The cold storm that was Lord Vincent’s long blade slid through my armor into my heart. Pain swept into me, along with darkness—darkness, vast and final as my dreams had always foretold.

I knew the instant Thea cut the stone from around Lord Vincent’s neck. A wave of emotions exploded into me, making me stagger. It was as if all the controlled thoughts and feelings of the people and the dragons held by the stone’s magic were freed. A physical gale buffeted me and for an instant the world was nothing but the thoughts of others.

Fear. Relief. Confusion.
All the dragons—wild blacks and our dragons, too—gave a cry, as if suddenly aware of the change in the Memory Stone. The black dragons were no longer connected to Lord Vincent. For an instant, I could see the world through their eyes as they hissed at each other and realized they were free again. They rose up to flee in all directions, snapping and darting away. They had no desire to fight—they wanted to head back to their homes in the wild.

The people, too, I couldn’t feel them individually, but I could see through the eyes of the dragons the people that had been enslaved by the Memory Stone were waking. They stumbled and dropped their weapons and some sat down again, holding their heads. The spell was broken.

Blinking, I used the emotions washing over me and slammed into Wulfric, thumping him hard against the stone. He slumped. I spun, needing my own thoughts, not those of a thousand dragons, but the dragons’ fury held me.

Thea slammed into me, knocking me aside. She turned, and a sudden look of shock spread over her face. Lord Vincent stepped back, pulling his blade from her—the blow had been meant for me. His sword had gone right through her armor with a killing blow.

With a cry, I let the dragon fury take over. I swung blindly, lashing out, spinning, turning, kicking, fighting with everything as a dragon might. The black form before me gave way, falling back as I slashed and hacked at him, cutting, crying out, letting the emotions inside me pour into action.

He lurched back, his sword clanking to the floor, clutching at his arm that I’d slashed. With a snarl, he fled.

Spent, the emotions drained out of me, I let my sword fall as well. I knew he must have felt the change as I did—that his plans were ended.

Heart pounding, head aching, I staggered back to Thea. Blood pooled around her. In her hand, she still clutched the Memory Stone. She had taken the blow meant for me.

I tried to remember what to do about wounds. I tore my tunic sleeves off to stop the blood, but it soaked all too fast. Breaths rattled from Thea’s mouth, pained, small ones, tinged by pink that slipped from her lips. I cradled her in my arms, my hands slick with blood as tears ran down my cheeks. She was dying. I knew it. I could feel her life leaking away. I felt desolate…destroyed.

Somewhere outside, I could feel Kalax howling, echoing my boundless grief.

I couldn’t leave Thea in the darkness. Picking her up, I left our swords. She still held the Memory Stone clutched in one hand and I left it with her. I staggered out of one cavern, into the next, and then into the mine. I lost track of time, but I followed Kalax’s thoughts—she guided me back to clean air and to a world where the sun was just coming up.

There, outside the mines, I slumped to the ground, without an ounce more energy to give. I couldn’t tell if Thea still breathed, but when I touched her neck, I thought…I hoped I felt a faint fluttering.

Footsteps sounded behind me, hard rapping boots on the ground. I didn’t know if it was Lord Vincent returning to kill me. I didn’t care, except if it was him I would kill him with my hands. I could feel the rumble of Kalax nearby.

Dragons come.

I looked up to see the sky fill with Dragon Riders. They set up a guard, and two dragons landed near Kalax. I heard the fall of boots and then Commander Hegarty’s deep voice sounded as he shouted my name. I looked up at the grim face of the commander, unable to smile or speak. I could only look back down at Thea.

“I know, lad, I know.” He pulled at my shoulders to get me to stand and away from Thea.

“Can’t leave her,” I muttered, my voice croaking.

“You have to, Seb. You have to. Come on, lad. We’ve little enough time left. I only hope we found you before it’s too late.”

He dragged me up and away. My hand fisted, and then he reached into a leather satchel sung over his shoulders and pulled out a deep, red stone shaped like an egg.

“A dragon stone?” I whispered.

Commander Hegarty nodded. “Aye, the Healing Stone. It may be able to bring Agathea back, if we act quick.” He pulled aside the blood-soaked cloth from Thea’s wound and held the stone over the bloody gash. A white radiance seemed to spill from the stone, falling into Thea like sunlight. I could feel a warm tingle from the stone, as if it was touching me…as if it was connected to every living thing and was using life to save a life.

The ugly gash on Thea’s chest knitted itself together. She gave a sudden gasp and a cough. Her chest convulsed and she rolled onto her side, coughing and wheezing. I grabbed for her shoulders and held her.

“Water,” she whispered. The commander slipped the stone back into his satchel and offered up a water skin. I touched a shaking hand to Thea’s chest—all signs of her wound were gone, except for the blood caked on her clothes and the gash left on her armor. Commander Hegarty put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll feel terrible for some time, yet. The Healing Stone got to you just in time. Any longer and you would have been gone. Now, we have to get you both out of here.”

“How…?” Thea coughed. “How did you find us?”

I shook my head. That didn’t matter. I waved at the commander’s leather satchel. “How is it you have one of the stone of power?”

He smoothed his mustache. “I’ve been the keeper of this stone for a long time now. Every Dragon Rider trusted with the secret must swear an oath, for the stones, they can do good, but they can also cause terrible destruction. Hardly anyone knows the stones exist, except in legend. I, for one, would like it to stay that way.” Hegarty looked down to where the green Memory Stone sat on Thea’s lap.

Gingerly, the commander pulled out a glove and slipped the Memory Stone into it. He tucked glove and stone into the neck of his leather jerkin, leaving it hidden by his armor. “As you two must know by now, these stones are too powerful for any one person. It is one of the tasks of the Dragon Riders to keep them safe, but we haven’t always succeeded.”

Thea sat up. I put a hand on her shoulder to keep her seated, and I looked up at the commander. “But the Dragon Stone…the one that controls all of them. Where is it?” I told him the story of what had happened inside the cavern—of Lord Vincent and the man named Wulfric, and how they’d been looking for the stones.

Commander Hegarty sighed and shook his head. “No. There is no one, great Dragon Stone. But there is an Armor Stone. There are three stones—we keep them in different places, sometimes within the Academy, sometimes within dragon caves, and sometimes in simple huts. I’ve no idea how this Lord Vincent got the Memory Stone. We’ll have to look in to that. But one great stone…that would be far too much power for anyone to hold.”

Thea wiggled out from my hold and staggered to her feet. “Is that all the Darkening was the whole time—one man causing misery to others?

The commander shook his head. “I don’t think we’ll get any answers here. So let’s get you two back to the Academy. There’s a little matter to discuss of you not obeying orders.”

*

The next few hours seemed a blur to me. Kalax greeted us both with a nudge of her head and an unhappy puff of smoke. I got the sense from her that if I ever left her behind like that again she was going to be more than unhappy with us. Thea actually hugged Kalax—or as much of Kalax’s nose as she could. I asked Thea about that, but she only smiled and said, “We girls need a few secrets.” We mounted and rode back to the Dragon Rider’s camp. But we didn’t stay.

The camp was already breaking up. Some Dragon Riders were headed north on patrol, some were staying to help the town and its people recover, some were chasing black dragons back into the wild—it seemed a few of the blacks were interested in our trained dragons. We were due back at the Academy, but the commander gave us a day there to recover.

Everyone seemed to want to ask us questions. We were led to tents, given water and basins to wash, fed and told to sleep.

I had no trouble obeying that order, but Thea left to go find her brothers. I fell asleep. I woke that evening and stepped outside, only to find Prince Justin’s banner was flying in front of the tent. I’d slept like a prince! The prince’s healers came to ask how I was doing and bring me more food and water.

Of the prince, however, I saw no sign. The healers told me Thea was with her brother, Reynalt, and the rest of the army had been ordered back to Torvald. It seemed the war had been called off. I wondered how much everyone knew, or had been told, of what had happened down in the mines. I also wondered where the Memory Stone had gone—did the commander still have it? I wanted to go find Thea, but I was still getting those headaches—not as bad as before, but bad enough to leave me happy to lie down and close my eyes.

I began to think the headaches had something to do with how the Memory Stone worked on someone like me who had the dragon affinity. The struggle and weight of all of those dragon’s minds had almost left me thinking more like a dragon than a person, and I could see how someone might go mad with all those thoughts and feelings. I wondered if that was what happened to Lord Vincent—had he once been a Dragon Rider, maybe even the one charged with looking after the Memory Stone? Had he use the stone and had it driven him mad? I shuddered, closed my eyes and worked on better control of my thoughts. I finally got it so I could focus on just Kalax—she was relaxed and cavorting in the river a little way off, eating fish and washing her scales.

Black dragons smell bad,
she thought at me. I almost laughed. I could feel her annoyance at how the black dragons had eaten most of the cattle and sheep around here, leaving no meat for anyone. Somehow the black dragons smelling different, and that was something I needed to think about. But that could wait until after we got back to Mount Hammal. I was tired enough that not even thoughts of being punished for disobeying the commander could keep me from sleep.

The next day I was given clean clothing—a tunic and breeches that almost fit, my old boots polished up, and a new leather jerkin. I just finished dressing when Thea walked into the tent with her brothers, Reynalt and Ryan.

“The hero awakens.” Ryan’s face split into a wide grin. He held up a basket. “We brought breakfast.”

I pulled a face. “Ugh. I’m no hero, but you should have seen Thea in action.” I dug into the basket, pulled out an apple that I threw to Thea. She caught it, winced a little and held her ribs. “Does it still hurt?” I asked.

“No. It’s just…” Thea smiled. “Odd, like pins and needles or something. The commander says it’s because it’s new skin and flesh. It hasn’t got used to the rest of me yet, I guess.” Thea sat down, and I wanted to hear what she’d been doing. It seemed she’d been talking to everyone who mattered about what had happened—about Lord Vincent, and the Memory Stone, and how he’d been looking for the Dragon Stone.

As we talked, I saw Reynalt and Ryan exchange a dark look as if they didn’t like all this talk of magic stones.

I glanced at Reynalt, who was technically the highest ranking officer in the room. “When can we leave?”

He shared a glance with Ryan that I couldn’t read and said, “We’ve gotten all the details about the mines that we can get. By the way, no one was there when we sent a squad inside. We’re setting up a permanent guard here, however, just in case the Darkening tries anything like this again.”

I wondered if they, too, were searching for whatever it was that this Lord Vincent had been after.
I wasn’t sure I believed that the Dragon Stone didn’t exist—and a lightning-quick look flashed between the two brothers, telling me they weren’t telling us everything. Thea either didn’t notice the look or was too excited about the prospect of getting out of here. She turned to me and asked, “Are you fit to fly?”

“Uh, I guess so. Kalax is certainly itching to get away from this river valley.”

“Good!” Thea smiled. “Eat up, and let’s get out of here. I can’t tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to getting the wind in my hair.”

I could only agree, but I had to ask, “What do you think the commander will do to us for not staying at the Academy?”

Thea shrugged. “Whatever it is, he’ll have to make sure we keep flying. Kalax has been pretty insistent about that.”

I stared at Thea. “You’ve been talking to Kalax?”

She grinned. “Well, not like you, but we communicate. How else do you think I keep an eye on how you’re doing?” She slapped my shoulder. “Now, come on, eat up. We’re heading home.”

*

The Dragon Horn blew again, for the third and final time. This time I did not flinch or react with dread. This was not the signal for another test or another challenge, or even another grueling work day. Today was graduation and the deafening echoes of the Dragon Horns signaled the victory lap of honor.

I’d been waiting for the commander to look over and tell Thea and me we were out. Or that Instructor Mordecai would come over and grab us both and toss us out. Instead, nothing had been said. Finally, I couldn’t stand it, and I leaned over and whispered to Thea, “When are we getting punished?”