Realm Of Blood And Fire (Book 3) (25 page)

She handed the reins to Agmunsten and walked the last sixty feet to the house she remembered from years ago. The blue paint on the small picket fence was as immaculate as she remembered, the path to the house swept and lined on either side by white and mauve flowers—her mother’s favorite.
Does this mean they’re still here
? Her palms sweated anew.

The well-oiled gate made no sound when she opened it. As she walked to the front steps, she had visions of her youth—her brothers chasing each other around the front garden, throwing buckets of water on each other, and in the wet season, when they would all stand in the deluge every afternoon until the rain slowed. Their hair plastered to their faces, they would enjoy the odor of the steamy moisture as it returned to the sky.

When she reached a hand to the door, it was as if someone else was knocking. She held her breath. Footsteps sounded inside, then a hand unlatching a lock and turning the handle. The door opened, and Astra was looking into another pair of violet eyes.

“Hello,
Mother. It’s me, Astra.”

The woman placed a wrinkled hand over her mouth. She blinked as tears blurred her v
ision. “Is it really you? You hardly look a day older from when I last saw you.” Her hand shook as she reached out to touch Astra’s cheek.

Astra was saddened at how much her mother had aged—her once black hair had turned gray, and the skin over her eyes sagged a touch, but her posture was straight, her eyes full of life. “It’s me. I’m
back for only a short while.” She wanted to reach out and embrace her mother, but fear of being pushed away stopped her.

Her mother shook her head, tears now coursing down her face. She opened her arms and Astra fell into them, wrapping her own arms around her mother. They both shook from the force of their sobs.

“Mother, who was it?” Her brother appeared in the hall, his darker-than-tanned skin and dark wavy hair exactly as she remembered, although he did look older. “Astra?” His mouth dropped open.

She was finally home.

***

With the crimson glow of the sun burning the line of mountains to the west as it touched their rocky backs, Astra and Agmunsten caught up to the soldiers riding at the rear of the two-thousand-strong column. Agmunsten was surprised they’d managed to make such good time, but this army was the most organized he’d ever seen.

They kicked their horses into a trot
, and within minutes, they gained the front of the column. Arie rode next to Calinsar, and they were both laughing. Agmunsten turned to Astra. “What in the Third Realm?”

“Don’t ask me.”

The high chancellor spotted them. “There you are. How did it go?”

“Um, good
, thank you. Well, my family was happy to see me, but I learnt that my father died two summers ago. My mother suggested I track my brother down—he’s stationed in Zemphos.”

“Who is your brother?”
Calinsar asked.

“
Gregor Antartou.”

“I happen to know your brother. He leads the special combat forces. He’s an xv2.”

Arie scratched his head. “An xv2, huh?”

“Arie, an xv2 is a
Xaverdem Victorus who is two levels down from the top commander—who would be me. There are three xv1s, six xv2s, and twelve xv3s. We have several lower ranks after that.”

“So he’s pretty good, then.”

“Yep, Arie, he’s pretty good.” Calinsar smiled.

Astra and Agmunsten looked at each other and shrugged. Astra sent,
I don’t know what they did with the real high chancellor, but I’m not complaining.

Me neither. Well, looks like we should at least make it to the harbor, but who knows if we’ll get to Vellonia on time.

Crazier things have happened,
Astra said and looked at Calinsar
.

Yes they have. I’m still worried, though. And there’s that long walk to the mountains. We’ll be meat on a serving tray out there. There’s a small desert that’s going to take two days to cross—with nowhere to hide. If they get any idea that we’re going that way, we’re finished.

Astra took a deep breath.
Let’s not worry about that now. We’ll deal with it when we get there. I have enough in my head at the moment.

They set up camp near a rivulet, watering their horses before tethering them where they could eat the rich grass. Astra scooped a handful of grain out of her pack and sneezed at the dust. She held it out for her mount and laughed at the tickle of the
horse’s muzzle on her palm. “Looks like we’ll be together for a while. I think I should give you a name. How about Surefoot? Yes, I know it sounds a bit boring, but I like it.” She took the saddle off and combed his back. By the time she returned for dinner, she was exhausted.

Camp food wasn’t as bad as Astra expected. It was seasoned with a generous helping of happiness from seeing her mother and brother—the middle brother had moved to another village with his wife and children many years before. She regretted not seeing him, but there was no use lamenting it now. When she finally drifted off to sleep, she had no warning of the nightmare that was to come.

Chapter 23

Ready Bronwyn?
Arcon spoke into her mind, as she was on the other side of the river, near the entry to the main mountainous living quarters of Vellonia. During the last three weeks, their fireball-throwing practice was taking them farther and farther from the target each day, and so far only Bronwyn, Blayke, Aimee and Crotus had the strength for drawing power and accurately throwing their missiles across the valley. Arcon had been extremely impressed, but he didn’t let the younger realmists know—he had no intention of being saddled with self-important, arrogant students.

The target was but a small dot across the valley. Arcon had cleared everyone out of the way, as groups of soldiers had taken to doing drills on the valley floor and
partway up the mountain, simulating the fighting conditions they would face when the gormons arrived.

Bronwyn syphoned power from the Second Realm, a skull-sized sphere of fire forming above her palm. She aimed, pulled her arm back and threw. It streaked across the valley almost faster than the eye could follow. The clang as it hit the gong rang out across Vellonia. “Yes!”
She pumped her fist in the air. “Beat that, Blayke.”

He looked at his sister and grinned. “Not a problem.” He formed two orbs of flame—one in each hand. “Don’t look away, or you’ll miss my awesomeness.”

Bronwyn laughed as Blayke quickly threw the fire from his right hand, flipped the other ball across into the same hand and threw again. Within seconds, the two projectiles had hit two different targets. The other realmists cheered, and Crotus, who stood next to him, patted him on the back. “That’s impressive.”

“Thanks. I’m thinking I could do that
nonstop for a few minutes, although it is tiring.”

“Okay, brother of mine, watch this.” Bronwyn created three burning spheres and hovered them above and to the right of her right shoulder. She eyed her targets, her tongue poking out in concentration. She grabbed the first one and threw. As soon as it left her ha
nd, she reached up for the next, then the next.
Clang, clang, clang
chimed throughout the valley.

“Not bad, sis.”

She blew the tips of her fingers. “Thanks.”

Sinjenasta, who had been sitting behind her watching with Fang on his shoulder, spoke into her mind.
You’re getting quite good at that. Are you going to miss it when we leave?

Bronwyn stopped smiling and turned to look at her creatura.
What do you mean?

When the portals are closed, no one will be able to draw power from the Second Realm.

The realmist blinked and thought for a moment.
Oh my gods, you’re right. I forgot. Oh.
She frowned. Everything on Talia was going to change—everything. And now that she had found her parents, did she want to leave? Goose pimples tickled her arms.

“What’s wrong?” Blayke had noticed her loss of elation.

“Ah, nothing.”
I’ll talk to you later, Blayke.

“Okay.”

“It’s my turn, now,” said Aimee, four balls balanced in the air above her shoulder. Everyone watched as she hit all but one target.

“Great job!” Blayke clapped.

“We’re going to blast those stupid gormons out of existence.” Bronwyn grinned.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Crotus folded his arms. “They’re bigger than a dragon, and some of them know how to take power from the Second Realm, too. They’ll be ready for us.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Blayke narrowed his eyes.

Crotus shrugged. “Just reminding you—that’s all. I’d hate for you to be shocked at the wrong time. Ah, look, here comes Arcon. I guess practice is over for another day. See you later.”

They watched him leave. Aimee poked her tongue out at his back.

“What was he like at the academy?” Blayke asked.

“I didn’t have much to do with him. The students were generally scared of him, although he has never done anything to them
. . . not that I know of. He was just always cranky and kept to himself. I heard he wanted Agmunsten to elevate him to The Circle, but rumors started that he was going to promote two teenagers. He was super angry when he found out.”

Bronwyn and Blayke looked at each other.
Better watch out for that one
, Blayke warned his sister.

I already am. Do you think it’s a coincidence he’s one of the ones who came to Vellonia from the
academy?

Hmm. I think we need to talk to Arcon.
Blayke bent down and scooped up Fang. “How’s it going, little buddy?”

Good. Just observing. I’m a bit scared of that crow. This morning, when he thought there was no one around, he swooped for me, but
Sinjenasta came out of nowhere and swiped his nice big paw at it. He almost got him too.

But that’s illegal! You can’t harm another realmist
’s creatura unless it’s self-defense.

The rat shrugged and climbed into Blayke’s shirt pocket.
I feel safer in here. I think I’ll have a nap.

Blayke stroked Fang’s head as they walked to the dining hall.

When everyone else entered, Arcon held his two charges and their creaturas back. “Come with me.” He led them to a nearby room, where Avruellen waited, and shut the door. Using power from the Talian reserves, he warded their conversation. “I didn’t want to worry the others, but the gormons are on the move. We’ve had dragon patrols out, and they’ve confirmed the ones on the coast and the ones from Veresia are coming. They will probably be here in three days.”

Bronwyn’s heart skipped a beat before pounding, the sound reaching her ears. Blayke grabbed her hand. “It’s okay, Bron. We’re safer here than we were when
we were attacked last time. We knew this day was coming.”

“I know, but it seemed so far away before.”

Avruellen smiled at her niece. “You’ve come a long way, dear, and I have complete faith that you’ll do fine. You’ve had the best teacher, after all.”

Bronwyn laughed. “So I have.”

Arcon cleared his throat. “In three nights, it just happens to be a full moon. And as the prophecy has told us, you’ll have to activate the amulet during the gormon attack.”

“As if activating it wasn’t hard enough in the first place, we have to do it while avoiding death from above?” Blayke rolled his eyes.

Will Bronwyn need anything from me when this happens?

“No, Sinjenasta. Just being there so she can feel your presence should be enough. Although, seeing as how we haven’t done this before, who knows? And one other thing: when the fighting starts, try to stay close to the mountain—being out in the open gives the gormons more of an advantage. Vellonia has
its own protections.”

“Like that confusion
-fear thing downstairs?” Bronwyn asked.

Arcon nodded. “Yes, just like that. Any other questions?”

Fang stuck his head out of Blayke’s pocket.
What happens if Zim and the people from Zamahl aren’t here by then?

Worry lines patterned Avruellen’s forehead. “We will lose. Without Zim, we won’t be a full Circle, and we won’t be able to activate the amulet. Speaking of which, we have to choose the last member.” She turned to Arcon. “I know you’re still sad about Elphus, but we have to make a decision.”

“It’s not just that.” Arcon scratched his temple. “I don’t trust any of the realmists that are here, except for Fendill, but he’s loyal to Edmund, so I expect he will want to serve him, ultimately. I want Astra. As much as she may not get here in time, she’s with Zim, so all would be lost anyway.”

Avruellen added, “She’ll have to go through initiation, Arcon.”

“I’ll contact Zim and tell him. It would be nice to know where they were.”

“What if you give their position away to the gormons?” Bronwyn chewed her bottom lip.

“You let us worry about that.” Avruellen smiled and raised her eyebrow at Bronwyn. “Now, I'm sure I just heard someone’s stomach grumbling. Let’s go and have lunch, and not a word about anything to anyone.”

Arcon dropped the ward as they left the room. That nauseous feeling was back, and this time he feared it was here to stay. The most important day of his two-hundred years on Talia was three days away.

The nervous buzz in Vellonia had risen to a palpable tension. Alaine and Fernis’s troops had arrived—with their leader. He’d had a close call with a gormon and was missing his hand, but Arcon had managed to heal him when he had arrived, getting rid of the infection that had spread—his stump had closed over with new skin, and the king was as eager as anyone to get the war over with.

The soldiers had closed off some of Vellonia’s corridors and were practice
-fighting in close quarters; others were learning how to ride the dragons. Sinjenasta had helped Arcon develop a special strap that could hold the rider on, even if the dragon flew a loop or rolled in the air.

Vellonia had changed from a tranquil valley into a constant clutter of noise: swords clanging in the hallways, fireballs ringing the gongs outside,
and soldiers and dragons shouting to be heard. But would it be enough?

As Arcon sat down to his meal at the royal table, Valdorryn stared at him, his eyes wide. The dragon
rose quickly, his bench seat clattering on the floor. “We need to meet. Now. I’ve just had some
news
.”

The realmists, kings and Alaine set down knives and forks and hurriedly followed the dragon king to his meeting room. Once everyone was seated around the shiny stone table, Valdorryn, still standing, spoke. “I’ve just heard from one of our scouting parties. Not only are the gormons going to be here in three days
but apparently the night skies are black with the demon children of Drakon. My dragons are estimating forty to sixty thousand.”

Gasps and swearing came from every direction. Valdorryn held up his hands. “I know. I almost coughed up my lunch when the message came through. At least we can plan properly. I’m hoping the spires will knock many of them out of the battle before it even starts, but if they penetrate from underground, we’ll have to rely on our soldiers.”

“Some of them know realmistry,” Edmund said. “A few of them had shields at Bayerlon, and nothing could touch them. Oh, gods, we were only attacked by one hundred of the filthy monsters. I can’t imagine what sixty thousand look like.” Edmund’s skin drained of color.

As silence settled on the group, it was as if they had already accepted defeat. How to get up and keep going when your death was almost certainly assured was something none of them had dealt with before.

Avruellen looked around at her companions staring blankly at the table, the floor or the wall. She clapped her hands loudly three times. “Enough! I haven’t spent my whole life working toward this and depriving you of your children, Edmund, to give up now. We’re going to sit here until we have our strategy worked out, and then we’re going to inspire the troops. And anyone who isn’t positive is going to get bent over my knee and have their behind switched with Second-Realm power. Do I make myself clear?”

Alaine managed a smile and winked at Arcon. “I haven’t been bent over anyone’s knee for such a long time.”

Arcon blushed. “Ahem, that’s not what she meant.”

Laughter replaced the anxiety, and Avruellen relaxed her shoulders but jumped when someone pounded on the locked door.

Valdorryn spoke to a guard. “See who it is.”

The guard returned with Queen Jazmonilly. The king looked at her in surprise. “Why didn’t you message me?”

She wrung her hands together and stepped from foot to foot, her silver scales flashing red. “The nursery’s been compromised. The eggs . . . the eggs are gone!”

Valdorryn didn’t waste a moment. “Guards,
organize a search immediately!” The king turned to his guests. “We’ll meet here after dinner. Get your troops organized and start praying.” He grabbed his wife’s hand, and they rushed to join the search.

Avruellen shared a despondent look with Arcon: eggs were like gold to the dragons—rare and precious. Someone in Vellonia had sabotaged them. No one was safe now. The realmist shook her head and wondered how things could possibly get any worse.