Shadow’s Wrath (Demon Generals Book 1)

by Gia Tsiknas

  Machi smiled. His reaction told her more about their comfort level than he had cared to admit. One more push.

  “Fat chance, by warning me you put me on my toes. You wouldn’t be able to catch me unprepared, now.”

  Grandpa was furious. He was about to retort when Anget cut in.

  “She is my guest. I will not allow you to eat her.”

  Grandpa looked even angrier, but he held his tongue. Machi frowned.

  Don’t egg him on. Anget scolded. I may be an adult, but he’s an elder. I won’t be able to help if he does anything.

  Machi shrugged. I can take care of myself.

  Anget looked skeptical. Oh? And how would you stop a grown dragon in a close quartered tunnel when he’s angry?

  I’d dodge him. Machi wouldn’t accept her own foolish words.

  And if he used his flames? I may withstand them, but a frail human like you wouldn’t have a chance.

  Machi pushed on. I would use the rocks to create a shield.

  Then, while you’re blinded, he could knock you out.

  Machi continued, enjoying herself in their sparring. Before he did that, I’d turn invisible, use a clone to distract him and sneak behind him.

  And what then? We have tails, you know, and we’re adept at using them.

  I’d float on his back and bind his mouth shut, then wrestle him to the floor. She finished with flair.

  Anget’s jaw dropped.

  You, a puny human, would wrestle a dragon to the floor, with nothing but her arms?

  Machi shrugged. Her tenacity surprised Anget. Machi felt his confusion and chuckled. She couldn’t help teasing him further. If you think I’m tenacious, then you haven’t seen a chipmunk.

  Anget’s curiosity piqued. What’s a chip-monk?

  Machi laughed. She showed him an image of the tiny rodent scolding something larger than it.

  Anget snorted in laughter. Those things can’t exist.

  It’s not a matter of can or cannot. They exist.

  Then why haven’t I seen any?

  Just because you live in here, doesn’t mean that everything lives here.

  I guess. You came from out there anyway, so it must have some truth to it.

  What do you mean ‘it must have some truth to it’? Haven’t you ever been outside? Machi looked at Anget.

  Anget watched his feet. No, I’m not allowed. No one’s allowed to leave. We would be hunted or worse.

  You’ve dealt with all that for centuries before this, Machi scoffed.

  Anget looked up, fire-eyed. You’re right. But no one will listen. They don’t get it. We can’t stay cooped up here forever. We need to reveal ourselves and rebuild what we’ve lost.

  Machi shook her head. The young dragon’s conviction was inspiring. She couldn’t believe no one would listen.

  Too few are My active followers. Too many are lukewarm in their dedication.

  Then why haven’t you set a fire under their butts to get that water boiling?

  Raboni chuckled. You have a unique way of putting things.

  Before Machi could respond, Anget continued.

  I’m not sure what else we can do.

  Machi frowned and realized that everyone had stopped. They were in front of a stone door too small for a grown dragon to pass. Grandpa nodded his head toward it. “You, stay here until the council.”

  Machi raised her eyebrow, but she stayed silent. Now was the time to wait. She’d get her answers soon enough. With a claw Grandpa hooked the edge of the door and heaved it open. Machi strode inside. She didn’t even wince when the heavy door slammed shut.

  “Don’t even think about using your little magic tricks to get out. They won’t work in this cell.” Grandpa grunted and walked off, followed by Tickle and Scholar. Anget stayed behind.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out. Once the council begins, there’s no way I will be the only one to see your wings. Things will settle.” His smile was tentative. “Right?”

  Machi couldn’t take his weak confidence, so she smiled back with certainty.

  “Right.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ICHAM

  Anget scrambled off after his family looking no older than a youngster, despite his claim of adulthood.

  Machi waited until the sound of claws clicking on stone faded then sighed. She looked around the dismal room. One rough mattress that looked old, one blanket, and a hole in the stone for the privy. Machi could hear water gushing in the hole designed to wash away waste, but on further inspection it was only large enough to stick her arm through.

  With a frown Machi tried to ignite a small ball of light, but the magic wouldn’t come. So the emerald dragon wasn’t lying. On a last ditch effort Machi examined the door. There were no locks. She shrugged and tried to push it open. With a groan the door shifted. Machi laughed out loud.

  “So much for common sense. Just because I use magic doesn’t mean I’m weak.” With a redoubled effort she pushed harder. The door moved half a hand-span.

  After fifteen minutes of pushing and a couple breaks, Machi forced open the door, so it was large enough to slip through but still unnoticeable in the shadows. Machi paused, something didn’t seem right.

  “Why would they have no locks? The stone was difficult but not that heavy.”

  Ah, but I have touched you with their abilities, daughter.

  So I’m stronger than an average human now?

  Were you ever anything less?

  Machi harrumphed, and closed her eyes, rearranging her image to that of a young dragon, as black as night. Precautions never hurt in an unknown place. Once done, she started off at a brisk trot, her soft leather shoes padded on the stone.

  After a moment’s silence, she asked. Who is Anget to me?

  You don’t know?

  He seems familiar. But I can’t understand why. I don’t think I’ve been this comfortable with someone since… Machi’s thoughts turned to Brizna, his fate and his struggle. Why am I here? I need to be out there searching.

  Patience. All will be revealed in time.

  Machi continued her light trot for the better part of an hour before she noticed a soft glow in the distance. Curiosity got the better of her, and she head toward it.

  Around the corner she saw a cozy room filled with books. In the center, curled before a roaring fire, slept a large milky-white dragon. Machi gasped. The dragon’s ears perked up and swiveled toward her. She froze. The dragon’s head lifted and turned in her direction. Machi gasped again as she saw his mutilated eyes.

  “Come here, child, I do not mind that you woke me.” He said.

  She started walking closer. After a few steps the dragon gasped. Machi froze again.

  “You are human!”

  Machi racked her brain for the tip-off and cursed. The sound.

  Calling a small shield of moisture and earth to her, she crouched.

  The dragon laughed, the noise echoing through the hallway and up Machi’s spine.

  “I have not heard a human’s steps in many years. Do not be afraid, I hold no grudge against you.”

  Machi was wary but curiosity overcame her.

  “Who are you?”

  “Ah, a young female.” The milky dragon grinned.

  Machi frowned.

  “I am Icham. Do not be startled, I am moving to allow you some warmth of the fire.” With a slow deliberateness, Icham shuffled off to one side, allowing the hearth to spill over Machi’s form. She shivered, her body shocked by the sudden heat. “Come warm yourself.”

  Machi felt no threat from the giant lizard. Unlike the older dragon from the door, Icham had a soothing presence, not unlike Anget.

  She padded to the fire and sat on the warm stone next to the dragon. He was large, larger even than the emerald dragon, his front claws bigger than her head. She admired his silvery scales glowing and sparkling with a myriad of colors, and her guard fell further.

  “Why aren’t you surprised that I’m here?”

  Ic
ham chuckled. “Two reasons. One, My Lord had given me a vision that change would begin in this very room. The second, is the dream of a youngster named Anget.”

  Machi frowned again. “I know Anget. He’s the reason I’m here. Something about a council.”

  “I am not surprised that you have met Anget, as you may be connected.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t say yet.” Icham shook his head.

  Machi turned to the fire. They stayed in silence for a while before Machi gained the courage to ask. “What was your vision?”

  “Not one for pleasantries.” Icham showed a toothy grin.

  Machi shrugged, then blushed, remembering Icham’s lack of sight and said, “No.”

  “I had a dream. Two humans came to this hall. The forerunner was shrouded in gray and white. The shrouds billowed behind him like torn chains. He called for change.

  “The latter came, shrouded in chains of black. He spoke of power and authority but could not be heard because the chains swallowed his words.”

  Machi was silent. Ayaka’s prophecy echoed in her ears.

  “Ah,” Icham continued. “There was also a voice that called out. It said-”

  “Choose well.” Machi finished.

  “That’s right. Did you have the same vision?”

  Machi hesitated, but she trusted the dragon. “A wandering girl once told me similar words. Mount up on wings and free the chained one.”

  “Perhaps you have been fated to come here and help fulfill this vision.”

  Machi grumbled her arguments, not wanting to offend the kind dragon.

  “You are the first human to come here in many years. Maybe it’s my guilt that plagues me with these visions.” Icham chuckled.

  “Is it about the legend?” Machi recalled the tales of her childhood. “That dragons abandoned the chosen King and were cursed?”

  “No,” Icham said wistfully, “I have a much more personal guilt.” He paused before continuing. “And what do you mean legend? This happened not one generation past.”

  “To the humans in Aguden, Drakia and its dragons are a myth, taken over by a nightmare.”

  “Humans forget so easily.” Icham growled.

  Machi was silent, thinking. After a while she spoke, deciding to test the waters with a white lie. “In fact, they say that no one escaped the slaughter in the legend. They say the Drakian race is extinct.”

  Icham’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came from his maw. His head rocked and slumped to the floor. Machi felt a twinge of regret about lying to the kind dragon, but she needed to know their stance with humans. She needed to know how isolated they had become.

  “And so my grief is complete.” Icham croaked. “Not even my bonded, my heart, survived that wretched coup.”

  “Bonded? What do you mean?”

  “Every dragon and Drakian is paired by Raboni’s will. At the turn of adulthood, the bonded meet, and are completed in spirit. We dragons have committed a grievous mistake in forsaking our bonded, and now, we will remain only half of ourselves forever.”

  Machi’s guilt swamped her. This being had given her information, shared a fire, and called in peace. She couldn’t leave him to think his bonded, as he had called it, was dead when she had no proof.

  “I lied.”

  “Lied?” Icham shifted. The hurt in his voice wrenched at Machi’s heart. “Why would you do this?”

  Machi sighed, things were so much easier with Hanaq. Why should she care about a lie to gain information? Who was this dragon to her compared to Brizna?

  “I needed information. The Drakians aren’t all gone. Some survived.”

  The room was silent as though the large lizard was holding his breath. Fear ate at her, screaming at her to avoid her next words. To hide in her lies and be safe hidden in the shadows. Was this fear hers, or her mother’s? A fear passed to an unknowing child, to shelter them in secrecy from their hated past?

  “My mother was a Drakian.”

  The fire crackled, a cascade of sparks jumping to the air as the wood resettled. Icham lifted his enormous head and turned to Machi. He drew air deep into his lungs, breathing Machi’s scent. His fragile hope as tangible as the light they saw by.

  “Please, what is your name, little human?”

  “Machi.” Her guilt spurred her to answer.

  Machi watched him, gathering her strength to launch airborne. She didn’t think the dragon would lash out, but grief clouds even the calmest of minds. Her wings drew out, ready for action. She hoped she was faster than the dragon.

  A shiver rippled the room, and Machi swayed, struggling to keep her balance as chips fell from the ceiling. Icham forced himself to relax, and the shaking ceased. Even with the strength of his emotions in check his voice broke.

  “And your mother?”

  Machi tightened her lips. Should she answer? Should she flee? What if it wasn’t who he was expecting, and he attacked or brought another quake that caved the room in?

  “Please, child, I will not hurt you.”

  Machi took a deep breath and whispered.

  “My mom was Yue.”

  Icham shook so much Machi thought the earth was shuddering again. She glanced around but the only movement was the dragon, large hissing tears streaming from his damaged eyes.

  “Please, tell me, is she nearby? Is she well?”

  Machi frowned and looked down. Their broken bodies flashed before her eyes. The insane laugh of their killer filled her ears. In a strained whisper she answered him.

  “She’s dead.”

  Icham broke into a terrible cry of anguish that roared through the tunnels, shattering the silence. Machi fell to her knees, the sound echoing through her until it shook her very bones. She screamed but Icham’s anguish drowned her voice.

  Finally the dragon fell silent and, as she feared, the quick movement of scale on stone echoed through the halls.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  SHADOW

  Wails and cries echoed the throne room. Noise only Zafirah could hear. They drowned out her reason, her fears and her sanity. She sat on her throne as ambassadors from Aguden stood on the black expanse of marble, stringing together persuasive words meant to woo her to their side.

  Her eyes were glazed over and staring, she couldn’t remember why they spoke, or why they had come.

  Three stood before her. The center man was old and ornately dressed revealing his high rank on the Aguden government. He spoke the words to woo her, desperate, somehow knowing in his instinct that he was failing.

  Off his right shoulder stood a silent soldier whose charisma would draw anyone’s eye. He was bald and wore ornate black and gold dress-armor. Spikes off his shoulder marked him as Captain of the Crusaders, the elite guard of the Black Guild.

  Off the ambassadors left shoulder stood a woman, dressed in furs and slacks. Her eyes had a feral light. She glanced about the chamber, sizing up the interior of the castle and its armed forces. Her pale eyes flicked to Zafirah then the captain.

  The ambassador fell silent and stared, waiting for a reply. Zafirah was still unsure how to proceed. What had he been suggesting, again?

  Ambassador Gen, Crone whispered into her mind. Relief flooded Zafirah. She couldn’t remember how Crone became a sorceress. She should be suspicious, shouldn’t she? But there was only relief. She could listen to Crone. Crone will help. Zafirah repeated Crone’s words down to the tone and inflection. She didn’t need to worry; didn’t need to think. Crone would fix this.

  “Ambassador Gen, I appreciate your proposal; however, I am hesitant to accept those terms. We shall talk at great length, after I have consulted with my counselors.”

  Ambassador Gen balked and Crone cut in with her own voice.

  "Ambassador, Her Majesty will call on you later today. We ask that you and your convoy await Her Majesties decision in your quarters. We shall provide refreshments and entertainment."

  Ambassador Gen stopped and eyed two female escor
ts as they led him out of the throne room. The pale-eyed woman stalked out of the room after the ambassador. The Captain of the Black Crusaders looked at Crone with dawning appraisal before turning to leave.

  ***

  We do not fool him. Crone bit the inside of her lip, watching the captain go. Once the throne room was empty Crone patted Zafirah’s hand. Zafirah looked down in a puzzled expression as Crone spoke.

  “Come with me, dear.”

  Zafirah allowed Crone to tug her into the throne’s private room. Crone continued to smile, but inside she lamented.

  Too soon, too soon.

  The woman before her was an empty shell. Much sooner than expected. With a nod to Kara, the chambermaid, Crone settled Zafirah into her plush chair by the hearth. Crone walked to the serving girl and whispered orders. Kara nodded and left.

  Once alone with the Queen, Crone turned to her flickering shadow. “It is too soon!”

  A deep velvet voice surrounded her and replied, Crone’s shadow rippling like a disturbed lake. “Do not worry, Skye, I have planned for this.”

  Skye bowed to the shadow but still pressed on. “She won’t last long in this condition. The strain is too great.”

  “There are three now.” The voice was purring in pleasure.

  “Three?” Skye frowned. “Who is the third? We aren’t close to another breakthrough.”

  A knock rapped on the door and Skye looked up. Zafirah stayed motionless, lost in visions and memories not her own. Skye gripped the bond she had thread into Zafirah’s mind and squeezed. The visions dimmed in Zafirah’s mind enough to speak. “Enter.”

  Regret mingled in Skye’s mind as she released the poor lifeless doll she had created years ago. The stone on Zafirah’s neck was the only tether keeping Zafirah’s body and mind corporeal. The magic, her magic, was fading. And with it the creation she had raised.

  The door opened. Victor, the Captain of the Crusaders glanced at the doll and turned his attention to Skye. His piercing gray eyes darkened to purple then black. A trickle of power reached towards Skye’s mind.

  Skye's shadow blocked Victor’s attempts. Victor allowed a puzzled frown to allay on his features.