They?
What did his brother think to do with the egg?
“How did you become the Dragon Thief?” Ty asked.
Albion watched him a moment. “It was my way of finding them—at first. Then it became something more when I learned more. I had to. Now you need to—”
A rustling came from behind him and Ty spun to see Roson stumbling through the trees, storming toward them with a pair of soldiers behind him. He had his hands out and something glowed within them, something Ty couldn’t quite see, though he could feel it, strangely enough.
For a moment, Ty feared Roson had brought a dragon, but he hadn’t.
“There you are,” Roson said. He ignored Ty, looking at Albion. “I felt it. The moment it left the temple, I was aware of it. I’ve been waiting for this moment. Following you. Did you really think you could bring it here?”
“You can’t have it. We need it to complete the Asharlath Ceremony; otherwise, Zarinth will fall,” Albion said, turning and facing Roson. He kept his hands at his sides and Ty noticed he had them clenched, though there seemed to be a glowing from within them too.
Could his brother have learned to use dragon magic?
He had been surprised to see the priests had the dragon pearls, but they had some sort of intrinsic magic, so he wasn’t shocked they could cause a glow. The priests themselves shouldn’t be able to do any magic.
“I doubt the priesthood has trained you to fully understand how to use that,” Roson said to Albion. “And I do not care if Zarinth falls. What is one more city of those who cause trouble to the king? One more city where the followers of the Flame challenge his authority?”
Ty wasn’t even sure how to feel. He wanted to save Eastley. That was what had brought him here, but now he felt a different conflict. This was his brother. How could he leave Albion?
More than that, if the ceremony really would save Zarinth, shouldn’t he be a part of it?
“Leave him alone,” Ty said.
Roson glanced over at Ty briefly before turning his attention back to Albion. “Interesting. Are the two of you somehow connected? I thought the priests took a vow of celibacy, committing themselves to the Flame.”
“You won’t touch him,” Ty said. He positioned himself in front of Roson, blocking him from reaching Albion. “You wanted to find the Dragon Thief. Well, you found me.”
Roson looked at him and a lazy smile curled his lips. “We have already discussed how you are not the Dragon Thief.”
“But I am,” Ty said. “You just don’t know it yet.”
Roson chuckled. “Unfortunately, I have seen exactly what you are—or perhaps fortunately, for you. At this point, you might as well return to the city. You will find it safer. But not for much longer.”
“I’m not letting you have him,” Ty said.
“And Roson is not getting the egg,” Albion said.
Roson glanced past both of them and clucked, shaking his head. “You make a mistake challenging me.” The glowing in his fists intensified.
Ty hazarded a look back and held on to the dragon-bone dagger. He had no choice. This was his brother, and he needed Ty’s help. He stormed toward Roson, dagger in hand, and suddenly felt wrapped in bands of flame.
It was the same sensation he had felt when he had been captured. He could do nothing. He was held in place, tormented by Roson’s band of power. Ty tried twisting his hands behind him, then stumbled and slammed into the two soldiers.
The suddenness of the blow tossed one of them off his feet and he staggered away, but before the other soldier could react, the first one fell into the lava lake. He cried out and Ty turned away.
Roson looked back. “Hold him,” he snapped to the remaining soldier.
The soldier grabbed Ty and held tightly to him, but he didn’t need to do anything. The bands of power wrapping around Ty made it so he couldn’t really move even if he wanted to. He tried to struggle, but the power was too much, and it confined him.
Roson approached Albion. “I will have that egg. It will be returned to the king. And then you and I will have a conversation about the other items you have taken throughout the kingdom,” he sneered.
Albion held out his hands, which continued glowing.
The Dragon Touched stormed toward him, power flowing from him. Ty could feel it, but couldn’t do anything about it. He had felt that same power before, the way it had wrapped around him, leaving him with a strange burning sensation and rendering him helpless.
As that energy slammed into Albion, he didn’t move.
Instead, he spread his hands and whistled, of all things.
It was an odd, familiar sound, almost a cry. His mother’s whistle.
Albion had remembered.
He could feel heat radiating from his brother, though he didn’t know what he did to make that happen. There was an energy coming off him, and Ty recognized that Albion deflected anything Roson did to him, preventing him from attacking.
There came a shout from behind, and the grip around Ty loosened. Ty turned to see the soldier grabbing at his back as a velum clawed at him. Another came, then another. They jumped out of the trees, descending upon the soldier.
Ty wasn’t sure he could prevent them from attacking, especially as Roson tried to hold on to him with his strange magic, but maybe he could mimic the whistle his brother had used.
Ty had heard that whistle so many times when he was younger. He had tried to use it, to mimic the sound, but had failed. He didn’t have the same technique or skill as his brother. He barely remembered the sound.
But now hearing it from Albion, it struck a chord, reminding him of the way his mother had whistled, the strange trill at the end, the curl of it on his tongue. It was the sound Albion had always managed to copy.
Ty wondered if he might be able to recreate it now. He started whistling.
At first, it didn’t work, but gradually he started to shift it, joining in with the sound his brother had made.
One of the velum approached, but as soon as Ty started whistling, it turned away and stalked toward Roson, who seemed not to pay any mind to the fact that the velum were approaching. He focused only on Albion, as if Albion were a greater challenge and threat than any of the velum.
Ty continued to whistle.
More and more velum approached, jumping out of the trees, and they crawled toward Albion and Roson.
Albion continued his whistling too, and the rising pitch of it carried out into the jungle, toward the lava lake, and over to Roson James.
Albion’s whistle suddenly shifted, turning into a high-pitched crescendo. When it ended, there came a sudden shriek. Five of the velum darted forward. All of them had dragon-bone knives clutched in hand, and all of them tore at Roson.
Roson turned to them, waving his hand in a tight spiral outward, and it must’ve created some sort of barrier, for as the velum tried to strike him, they now bounced off some invisible shielding. He pressed outward and the velum shrieked again, stabbing at the barrier with their knives.
The knives didn’t make any difference to Roson, as he used his Dragon Touched power to deflect the velum. He was glowing softly, and Ty realized he had something made of bone wrapped around his wrist, like a bracelet. But what sort of bone was that?
Ty had seen bone like that before. Teeth. The dragon teeth he had seen in the drawer. And Roson James had formed them into a bracelet?
Roson shook the velum off.
“Get out of here,” Albion told Ty. “You don’t need to be here. Let me finish this. We can finish the ceremony, Ishantil can calm down, and everything can return to normal.”
Normal. Ty had no idea what normal even was anymore. The only thing he knew was that his brother was here, his brother was the Dragon Thief, and his brother…
“No,” Ty said. “Did you ever stop looking for them?”
Albion glanced over to him. “I told you I didn’t.”
Albion turned, holding his hands up, flames arcing from one han
d to the next.
Was Albion a Dragon Touched?
“How can I help?” Ty asked.
“Call the velum,” Albion said.
Ty continued to whistle, letting the sound drift into the air, yet he wasn’t sure he was doing enough. The velum were coming, but Roson was too powerful. He was able to deflect them far more easily than Ty would’ve expected.
“It’s not working,” Ty said.
Albion glanced behind him. “Then you need to complete the ceremony. The egg. It’s the only thing that will calm Ishantil. It’s what will give all of us a chance.”
“What needs to happen? I don’t have the dragon pearls,” he said, acknowledging that he had taken them from the temple. “I’m not sure what’s required.”
“The dragon pearls were a means of hiding the egg, nothing more,” Albion said. “And they aren’t needed. The Flame.”
“Albion—”
“I know you don’t have faith, Tydornen,” he said and stepped forward, power strangely blooming around them and pushing back against Roson. Albion continued whistling, his cry building, lifting into the air, carrying outward, and the velum responded, streaking forward and attacking Roson.
How had Ty ever thought his brother had abandoned their parents?
This wasn’t the kind of man who would do that. He still remembered and used all the lessons their parents had taught him. He remembered his mother’s whistle and he followed his father’s faith in the Flame.
Albion had been the more faithful son out of the two of them.
Ty might’ve been paying people to try to get answers, but Albion had been out there doing this.
And now…
“Mother always wanted you to find your faith. She always wanted you to know the truth. Now you must find it. Finish this,” Albion continued.
The ground rumbled again, almost as if Ishantil answered for Ty, crying out to him and his brother.
Ty staggered forward and grabbed the egg resting on the ground.
He felt heat surge behind him that built steadily, rising with intensity.
There were dragon relics scattered around the egg—small ones, little more than the size of his hand, the kind their mother had always chased after.
Ty held the egg, noticing its warmth, and as he turned to his brother, watching as he spread his hands, heat and fire radiating between them, he found Albion locked in place, as if unable to move.
“The Flame,” his brother said. “You must have faith.”
Ty turned.
He could feel the heat rising still, then he started to feel something looping around him, the same heat that Roson had used on him before. Ty whistled to the velum, letting that sound carry. There was another wrestling in the trees, and the power that had looped around him managed to release. Ty took a step toward the lava lake, toward the rumbling of Ishantil that was threatening to toss him into the lava.
Then Ty held the egg out. He looked over his shoulder at Albion, and found him clenching his jaw and staring. Ty released the egg.
It dropped into the lava, drifting out.
The ground trembled, and a massive fountain of flame shot up around the egg, spurting into the air. Ty backed up.
Was I too late? Would Ishantil erupt anyway?
Then the flames and lava were somehow drawn toward the egg, which dropped down into the lava. Ty stood transfixed.
“The relics,” Albion said. “Add the relics.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know, but they must be a part of the ceremony.”
Ty grabbed for the relics. He was going to toss this incredible wealth into the lava lake? He scooped them up, the obsidian making them heavy, and noticed how perfectly smooth they were, how carefully sculpted.
“The expedition found them nearby. They were sacrifices,” Albion said, his voice strained. The velum continued to attack Roson, and Albion was doing whatever he could to keep them attacking, but it wasn’t going to be enough.
They might be able to finish the ceremony and find a way to stop the eruption, but would that really work?
Ty tossed the first of the relics into the lava.
It floated, and it didn’t burn.
That was strange.
He dropped another. And another. There were five in total, and when the last one dropped, they floated into the lake, drifting, and he realized they were drawn toward where the egg disappeared, surrounding it.
The sculptures floated in the lava, then began to sink.
Ty stared.
The ground trembled again, then fell still. The lava lake bubbled for a moment, then also fell still, leaving no relics remaining.
Behind him, Ty could feel the fight waging, the energy from Roson lashing out at his brother, at the velum, then the velum, too, fell silent and still.
Ty turned to see his brother wrapped, arms trapped at his sides, jaw still clenched.
Roson flicked his gaze to Ty. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “The Dragon Thief was the prize. The egg was nothing more than bait. In this, you have served your king well.”
Ty said nothing. He hadn’t served the king. He had done nothing other than try to help his brother. Roson started pushing Albion away.
Albion looked back at him. “Follow the Flame, Tydornen. Always. The Flame will guide you.”
Ty looked through the trees, toward the platforms the priests had jumped onto for their ceremony, and he realized something. They had been a distraction.
They had wanted to draw out anyone who might think to stop their ceremony, when the real ceremony was dropping the egg into the lava, as Albion had intended to do and Ty ultimately completed.
The ground continued to tremble, though a bit less than before. It seemed as if Ishantil truly had begun to ease, relaxing, no longer as violent or angry as she had been.
Albion locked eyes with Ty for just a moment, but then he and Roson slipped into the trees, following the foot-worn path.
They still had to descend the mountain. He wasn’t going to allow Roson to take Albion from him, not when Ty felt like he might actually have a chance of getting his brother back.
But he felt another surge of heat behind him. He turned, staring at the lava lake.
The fire seemed to swirl, and he was surprised to see a dragon-like face appear, then it faded.
It was brief, and he assumed it was only his imagination again, but he couldn’t help himself from wondering how much of it might have been real.
Had the egg hatched?
That’s not possible.
But the egg had calmed Ishantil.
What else might have been real?
Follow the Flame.
He had no idea what that would mean for him, but it was time to find out.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ty raced down the path after Roson and Albion, who had moved farther ahead of him than he had expected. By the time he caught up with the others, the priests were still chanting, and he earned an annoyed look from Gayal, who glanced over at him.
He had tried whistling to the velum, thinking he might be able to draw them in and limit what Roson did to Albion, but they didn’t respond, almost as if the Dragon Touched had some way of deterring them.
“Roson has my brother,” Ty said to Gayal.
“But the ceremony succeeded,” she responded.
He frowned at her. “That’s all you care about?”
“What is the Dragon Thief before the safety of the city?”
“You used him.”
“No,” she said. “He was here. Part of a greater plan, one that Roson James thankfully did not understand.”
“You knew it was my brother?”
She said nothing.
“You have to help him. I don’t know what Roson will do to him—”
“He will bring him to the king, as he must, in order to prove himself a faithful servant to the throne.” She looked over to him. The treetops rustled, and Ty glanced up briefly, wondering if there might b
e velum coming toward them, but there was no sign of them. “I will see your friend released. That will be my gift for your service.”
She started away, and Ty didn’t even know what to say in response.
He turned to the High Priest, the man he had thought was the Dragon Thief.
“Doesn’t it even bother you?” Ty asked.
“Does what bother me?” the High Priest asked, looking in his direction.
“That Roson James has taken Albion.”
“The Flame will provide,” the High Priest said.
Ty glared at him, but the High Priest ignored him, continuing his way down the path, still chanting. Every so often, Ty would look up at the trees and see the velum had come, though they didn’t try to get too close. He had to run after Roson. He could still catch up to them. He might even manage to get the velum to attack and help him free Albion. He wasn’t about to leave his brother behind.
But what was going to happen next?
He caught up to Gayal. She was marching along the Path of the Flame, moving steadily, easily, practically floating on the stairs, unmindful of how steep they were. The priests were behind them, and in the distance, he could hear the sound of movement, that of people parting through the dense jungle. It had to be Roson and Albion.
“If Roson goes back to the capital with Albion, what will the king do to my brother?” Ty asked.
She turned to him, frowning. “I can’t say.”
“Will he be sentenced to die?”
She said nothing.
“Roson would see him given the king’s justice. But Albion was just trying to save Zarinth. That’s what you wanted too,” Ty said.
She remained silent.
“He doesn’t even care about the egg. It was all about the Dragon Thief,” he continued.
“I’m sorry you got caught up in this. Now that Ishantil is calm, you can return to your home. Your friend will be released, as I said.”
Could that be it? Could that be all he would do now?
He didn’t feel like that was the case. He felt like something had changed for him.
He had been prepared to leave Zarinth.
Path of the Flame (The Dragon Thief Book 1) Page 25