The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10) (57 page)

CHAPTER 6

“Brenwar,” Bayzog said, “shouldn’t we go after him?”

The dwarf stood like a tree stump, thick fingers clutching at his sides, brows buckled.

“No,” he said under his beard. “We’ve lost enough already. Nath should know better.” He turned back toward them. “I’m afraid we can’t help him any right now. He’s temperamental.”

Bayzog’s hand wrapped around Sasha’s. It was cold, and she was shivering.

He looked up, hand over his eyes, and said, “Let’s get shelter. Perhaps under those trees.”

“What about Shum?” she said.

The elf lay on the ground with a layer of wet dirt and rain muddying his armor.

Brenwar tended to him. Picked him up, moved him, and set him down somewhere more suitable. He crossed Shum’s arms over his chest, took a knee, closed his eyes, and bowed his head. Placing his hand over Shum, he began to sing in Dwarven. A throaty melody. Pleasant and strong.

Bayzog held Sasha tight, but her sobs shook both their bodies.

Brenwar finished.

“That was beautiful,” Sasha said.

Brenwar nodded.

The rain splashed on Shum’s face, bringing life to it a little. Everyone stood and stared, but Sasha was still crying. Bayzog’s stomach twisted and turned.

“I-I feel so guilty,” Sasha said. “He shouldn’t have died over me.”

“He’d have died a hundred times for all of us,” Bayzog said, “That’s what good does. Gives its life so others may live.”

“The Roamers say ‘Act or evil takes the reins.’ He told me that once in our travels,” Brenwar said.

***

The rain slowed, and the clouds began to part. The sun was warm, but Sasha felt cold. Nath was gone, buried in a well of darkness. They’d barely made it out the last time, and now he had to make it out alone. It didn’t seem right. She felt helpless.

“Sasha,” Bayzog said, “Your spell. It saved us, too, you know. And Brenwar. You did well.” He kissed her on the head. “Shum would be proud.”

“Aye,” Brenwar said, stepping over and patting her hands. “I’m grateful to you, Lady Sasha. I’m pretty sure I only had a few more seconds at most in me.”

His kind words did little to lighten her spirits. But she was glad she lived. Just miserable.

“I think I need to sit down,” she said. She sat where she stood, folded her arms over her chest, and watched the tunnel. It was dark. Foreboding. She never wanted to go in there again.

“If I can find some metal,” Brenwar said, “I can get these cuffs off. Maybe you can then cast a spell to warm yerselves.” He sauntered away.

Bayzog sat down and draped his arm over her shoulder.

“Did you see Nath’s eyes?” she said. “When he killed that thing?” She nodded back toward the ettin. “And when he left into the tunnel?”

“Yes, dear.”

“I think I was more scared of him at that moment than I was of the ettin. His eyes were like fire. I almost felt bad for the ettin,” she said. “Is that wrong?”

“I don’t think it’s wrong at all. There’s light in all creatures, Sasha, but many prefer the darkness.”

“Why?” she said, scratching her head. “Why do they do such things?”

“Doing right is never as easy as doing wrong,” he said. “And I fear our friend Nath is doing wrong now.”

She rested her head on Bayzog’s chest and stared down into the tunnel. “Me too,” she whispered.

CHAPTER 7

I didn’t need the light. Fang provided that. A pale blue light adorned the blade. I didn’t need an orb to follow, either. Now that I knew where the dragons were, dark or light, I’d never forget. No twist or turn would fool me.

I didn’t run. I didn’t trot. I dared anything to cross me.

Two gnolls did.

Two gnolls died.

No one would harm any of my friends again. No one from this tunnel, anyway. Not ever again!

I wasn’t far from the large cavern with the urns of light where I’d met Kryzak the first time when another draykis greeted me in the large tunnel.

It held Brenwar’s war hammer in its hands and smiled.

“Put that down,” I said.

“Take it,” it hissed.

I didn’t realize they could talk so well. It surprised me.

We charged. Our weapons clashed.

Krang!

It sounded like the world exploded.

Fang kept humming.

The draykis kept swinging, hammering away at the sword in my grip.

Fang’s humming got louder and louder. The ringing rose.

The draykis dropped to its knees. The war hammer fell from its fingers.

I struck it down with a single blow.

Its head rolled away.

Fang’s humming stopped and the blade’s light went cold.

Laughter echoed in the chamber. I picked up Brenwar’s war hammer, stepped over the draykis, and strode into the light of the cavern.

Twang! Zip!

An arrow buried itself in my scaled shoulder.

“Welcome back, Nath Dragon,” Kryzak said. He was holding Akron and nocking another arrow. “I sure like these moorite arrows. They’ll put a hole through anything. Extra light and fast, too.”

“Shoot all the arrows you want,” I said, yanking the bolt from my arm and tossing it. “They won’t prevent your imminent death. I’ll avenge my friend.”

“Friend?” Kryzak said, cocking his head. “Are you certain about that, Nath Dragon? Perhaps I did you a favor.”

The words struck me funny. Cooled my inferno. My stance softened. What was he talking about?

Kryzak lowered the arrow tip toward my chest. He was alone. I sensed no more draykis, gnolls, or goblins. But certainly the feline fury was near, ready to pounce from anywhere. I scanned the nooks and crannies. But it was only the two of us and the flames. Where was everyone else? What game was he playing?

Shoulder aching, I switched Fang to my good arm and stepped forward.

“I think it’s time to close that mouth of yours, permanently.”

“Ah, yes, you never were one to let others do the talking, now were you?”

Again, what was he talking about? How did he know me?

“No,” I said, “I always found the conversation of others quite boring, just like the one we’re having now.” I continued forward.

Kryzak closed one eye and took a half breath.

Twang!

Cling!

The arrow ricocheted off Fang’s blade. I bolted toward Kryzak and swung.

Swish!

Like a phantom, he faded and was gone.

“Ah-ah-ah-ah,” he laughed, his voice echoing. “Awfully hard to hit what you can’t touch.” He was distant now, on the other side of the cavern, standing by one of the urns. He lowered Akron to the ground and held up a finger. “A moment, Nath Dragon. Then you may have at me with all your fury.”

My blood raced. His tone and demeanor irked me. He slid his deep-purple robes from his big frame, revealing a thick leather chest plate. His long arms bulged with hard muscle and tattoos. He wiped the sweat from his tattooed head, rubbed it into his hands, and slid one mailed gauntlet on over the other. He reached down and wrapped his meaty hand around his crude-looking war mace and nodded, closing his eyes and murmuring.

I didn’t attack until he was ready. This was a challenge fight. All of me against all of him. So be it, then. No one ever stood against me one on one. I didn’t care what weapon he had. I had two dragon arms.

He opened his eyes. “I’m ready now.” He banged his mace on the floor. It started to glow. “Prepare to feel my power.”

“No, prepare to feel mine!”

I raced across the cavern floor, Fang high over my head in one dragon hand and Brenwar’s war hammer in the other. I leapt.

He swung. His mace exploded into my chest like a crack of thunder. It hurled me backward and slammed me across the floor.

That was fast. That was powerful. Like a giant.

“I’ve been dying to do that,” he said.

I could barely breathe.
Not again!
I gasped and coughed and rose to my feet. “Why is that?” I said, walking back over.

He didn’t say. He swung instead.

Krang!

Bang!

Clang!

I blocked and shuffled.

Kryzak hammered at me, each strike getting faster than the last. Every blow juttered my arms at the elbows and buckled my knees.

Magic!

He was using magic, and a great deal of it at that. Speed. Strength. You name it, he had it. No mortal was that strong or that fast. His head glowed with bright colors and his eyes like fire.

“What’s the matter, Nath Dragon?” he said, “Nothing smart to say?”

I drove my fist into his mouth. It felt like hitting a rock.

He drove a mailed fist into my belly.

“Woomph!”

Steel clashed against steel.

I struck.

He parried.

He struck.

I countered.

We banged back and forth for another minute.

“Tell me how you know me,” I said, shoving him back. I backed up and rubbed my aching shoulder. My chest burned and heaved.

“Ah,” he said, “so now it matters what I think, does it? Well, after I’ve beaten you into submission, perhaps I’ll tell. Assuming you survive.”

“Oh, I’ll live, all right,” I said, “I just wanted to give you a chance to talk before you die. You see, Kryzak, I’m not holding back anymore.”

“Is that so?” he said.

“Absolutely.”

I sheathed Fang and pulled Dragon Claw out. Its blade shimmered and shone.

Kryzak narrowed his eyes. “Have at it then, Nath Dragon.”

I puffed smoke and let the dragon out.

Kryzak was a skilled soldier, but his technique was flawed. It was all strength and no finesse.

I ducked under the war mace ripping over my head and drove Dragon Claw into his shoulder.

“Argh!”

I busted his iron chin with Dragon Claw’s hilt.

Kryzak’s knees wobbled. He was fast, but not the fastest thing I’d ever seen. Dragons were faster. He wasn’t a dragon. I was.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I busted his wrist with one blow after the other.

“What are you doing?” he said, wrapping two hands around his weapon.

“Picking you apart,” I said, laughing.

Stab!

Dragon Claw dug into his leg.

Kryzak busted me in the arm and Dragon Claw slipped from my grasp. He punched me in the face and rocked my head back. I punched him back. We locked up.

“Drop yours and I’ll drop mine,” he said, staring into my eyes.

“Gladly,” I said.

I broke the clinch and tossed Brenwar’s war hammer and Fang to the ground.

He dropped his mace.

Kryzak was bleeding badly and limping. He didn’t stand a chance. He wiped the blood from his mouth and spat. My shoulder burned, but I could still take him. One dragon arm was better than two man arms, magic or not. I would make him pay for what he’d done to Shum. But I wanted answers to my questions. Why was he doing this? Who was behind it all? I was going to pin him down and squeeze his neck until I found out. I balled up my fists and took a step forward.

He raised his mailed fists, said, “Next time, Nath Dragon,” and bumped them together.

Boom.

The cavern shook and started to cave in. I jumped out from under a falling boulder. When I looked up, Kryzak was gone. His war mace as well.

“Guzan!” I swore. But I wasn’t alone. Goblins and gnolls spilled into the room, weapons raised and mouths crying for my blood. I snatched up Fang and the war hammer and faced the horde that came at me. A furnace erupted inside me.

I yelled out my new battle cry.

“Dragon! Dragon!”

CHAPTER 8

The rain had stopped. A foggy mist remained over the grasses, but Ben kept Garrison in his sights. He stayed back far enough, looking like little more than a squirrel in the distance, and trudged after him.

“What is he up to?” Ben asked himself, wiping the rain from his face. “Ah, I’ve had enough of this already.”

Garrison had been wandering off plenty over the past few days. He’d had a zeal for snaring and trapping lately, and he’d wanted to hone his skill. He’d sell the pelts for extra coin, but his business wasn’t very good. Rabbit pelts didn’t go for much unless you caught a bunch of them. Garrison hadn’t.

Ben stopped and squatted in the grasses. Garrison’s head was over his shoulder, and he spun around. Ben’s heart pounded in his chest.
Oh great, he must have seen me.
He kept down and waited. When he peered up again, Garrison was gone.

“By Guzan! How’d he do that?”

Following the path in the tall grasses, Ben trotted after him, heading in a direction he’d never been before.

Trees were ahead, tall pines, oaks, and birch that stretched over a mile in each direction. It would’ve been as good a place to set snares as any, but plenty of dangers lurked in the woods. It was safer in the open plains. Easier to spot people or things. Easier to spot anything. At worst, a herd of deer or gazelle might pass, or you might spook a flock of birds.

He stopped a dozen feet from the woodland’s edge and fingered the pommel of his sword.

“What are you up to now, Garrison?” he whispered. His heart pounded behind his ears.

Maybe I should go back? No, maybe he’s in danger.

He looked over his shoulder. The rolling hills offered safety. The forest offered another element: danger. Chill bumps rose on his arms.

“Better be no ettins in there,” Ben said, moving on.

He pressed through the branches. The ground was covered in needles and leaves. He kneeled down and picked Garrison’s trail back up. Garrison hadn’t bothered to cover his tracks, and Ben had a keen eye for them. Dragon had taught him that.

Taking his time, he picked his way through the forest and stopped. Garrison’s voice caught his ears. Ben crept toward the sound and pressed his body against a tree, then peered around.

Garrison kneeled in a clearing, rocking back and forth, rubbing something in his hands. He wasn’t alone. Ben froze, and his chill bumps got more bumps.

Who is he talking to?

Garrison was talking to someone or something. A shadow or a shade.

And it was talking back.

“Well done, Garrison,” it said. Its voice was deep and creepy. “Keep me informed.”

“As you wish,” Garrison said, bowing. “All hail Barnabus.”

What did he say?

“All hail indeed,” said the shade. The image shimmered and faded away.

Ben remained hooked to the tree.
What was that? Who was that? Barnabus?

Here was the itch that Ben had needed scratched. Ben could feel it in his gut now.

Garrison’s a spy! A traitor.

He stepped out from behind the tree and drew his sword.

Garrison jumped.

“A … Ben, what are you doing here?” Garrison said.

“No, Garrison, what are
you
doing here?” He took a step closer. “Traitor!”

Garrison stepped back and lifted his hands, palms up.

“I’m just checking the snares, Ben. You know that.” He eyed the lump on Ben’s head. “Say, you aren’t feeling so well, are you? And that bump’s looking worse. Let’s get you back to the camp.”

“Checking snares my behind, Garrison,” Ben said. “You work for Barnabus. You know about Sasha, don’t you! Where is she?”

Garrison’s smile was like a fox’s. Ben had never seen that look before. All these months his friend had been quiet and agreeable, even dull, but now he was different.

“Ben, really, whatever it is you think you saw, I can explain,” Garrison said. “Listen, let’s get out of this rain. There’s a spot nearby where we can talk.”

“Here is just fine,” Ben said. “I’m all ears.”

“You’re trembling, Ben. Are you afraid of something?”

Ben swallowed. He’d never been in this sort of confrontation before. He was alone. No backup. His eyes slid through the trees.
Maybe he’s not alone.

“Out with it, Garrison!” Ben said. “I want to know everything.”

Garrison shrugged his broad shoulders. He had about thirty pounds over Ben and was strong as a black bear. He took a step forward.

“You going to kill me, Ben? With your little sword?” Garrison rubbed his chin. “I don’t think you have it in you. Killing a man. Your friend. A fellow soldier? How are you going to explain that, Ben? Murdering a Legionnaire. Over what? They’ll hang you for certain.”

“I’m sure they’ll figure it out,” Ben said. “I’m an honest man.”

“You aren’t going to stab a man whose sword is snug in the scabbard, are you, Ben? Tsk, tsk. No, I don’t think so.” He kept his hands up and offered a smile. “Listen, Ben, no one else has to get hurt. Not me, and not you. And do you really think I’d be doing this if I didn’t have to? I don’t have a choice, Ben. The Clerics of Barnabus … they have my family.”

“Say again.”

Garrison’s eyes drifted left.

“They have my family.”

“Liar,” Ben said. “I know it, and you know it. Now, you’re coming with me. Keep those hands up.”

“What?”

“Clasp your fingers together on your head,” Ben said. “You know that drill. Don’t play stupid with me, Garrison.”

“Oh, with you, never, Ben.” Garrison rolled his eyes. “Never at all.” He locked his fingers over his head. “All right, then, is this better?”

Ben stepped around behind him and poked his sword into the other man’s back.

“Go!”

“Do you want to march me back, or can I walk normal? Ow!”

“Waddle like a duck for all I care, Garrison. Just get moving.”

Garrison waddled forward and started making quacking sounds.

“Stop it!”

Garrison kept at it.

All these months I never suspected a thing!

Garrison had been quiet, but not too quiet. He’d worked hard, trained hard, and fought hard. He’d always had a steely quality about him, but Ben had put that down to his being a soldier. Now Garrison was a different person. Sly and confident. Speaking with another level of intelligence.

Ben wiped his sweaty palm on his trousers and swallowed.

“So Ben,” Garrison spoke up as they cleared the forest. “What are you going to tell the Legionnaires? There’s only a few of them. And the sergeant in charge isn’t so bright. The villagers won’t know who to believe. Are you going to tell them I’m a spy? Where’s your proof?”

“I’ll figure it out when we get there,” Ben said. “Just keep quiet.”

“Certainly, Ben. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your thoughts. After all, you’ve much thinking to do. Very much indeed.” Garrison shrugged and barked a laugh. “Let me know if you need any help with that.”

Ben didn’t know what do to. He knew that Garrison had information that would help him find Sasha. But his gut told him something else. Garrison was dangerous. Evil.

Maybe now is the best time to stop him.

He poked Garrison in the back again.

“Ow!” Garrison whirled. “There’s no need for that, Ben!”

Ben clipped his thigh, drawing blood.

“Ben! Cut that out!”

“You want me to stop, Garrison? Draw your sword!”

“You can’t be serious. Ow! Stop doing that!”

Ben was seething. “Stop me.”

Garrison backed up and withdrew his sword. “I’m much better than you.” Garrison smiled. “You know that.”

Rain splattered off steel.

Ben said, “Prove it.”