Smoke and Shadow: An Epic Fantasy Progression Series (The Dragon Thief Book 3)

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Smoke and Shadow: An Epic Fantasy Progression Series (The Dragon Thief Book 3) Page 10

by D. K. Holmberg


  If I survive.

  Ty clenched his jaw, trying to get up.

  He stumbled forward, falling again. He didn’t have the strength to put his hands down to protect himself and landed hard, striking his cheek on the stone. He lay there for a few moments, pain rolling through him.

  Get up.

  That was what he told himself, over and over and over again, repeating it in his mind, a mantra he kept within. Get up and get moving.

  Even if he could get up, he didn’t know where he could even go for help.

  He was too far from the tavern. Too far from Bingham and anybody who might be able to help him. Maybe even too far from his brother, though he had been nearing the location where he had told him to find him. He was too far.

  And the stupid smoke dragon had refused to help.

  So much for the power it offered.

  All of this time, after everything that he’d gone through, he had hoped that the smoke dragon would offer him a chance, nothing more than that, just an opportunity to find his way free and protect him, but it did not.

  There was nothing. No help. Nothing other than the dragon having abandoned him in the time when he needed it the most. He rolled onto his side and forced himself up. He clenched his jaw, grabbing the remaining bit of energy that he had within, and then got to his knees.

  He shook.

  How much strength did he have remaining?

  When he had been working with Maeve, he had seen people who suffered, people who had been targeted and attacked and who had bled out. He had seen the way that they had faded, and how quickly they succumbed to their injuries. Would the same thing happen to him?

  He cried out again.

  This time, he cried out in frustration, and as he felt that frustration rolling through him, he attempted to draw upon some hidden strength, searching for something within him that might provide him with more strength, some way to get to his feet, to keep moving, and to power through this.

  The pain continued to surge within him, and he staggered forward.

  He didn’t know how he got to his feet. He didn’t know what he called upon in order to find that strength. Somehow, he had managed to summon some hidden reserve of power and strength, and he used that in order to take one step. Then another.

  Each step that he took gave him confidence to take another.

  He stumbled and braced himself on a wall, lingering there for a moment until he pushed off it and then stumbled forward again.

  Finally, he found the street where Albion had told Ty to find him. The streets were marked with stone signs on each of the intersections, worked into the buildings, and he paused at one intersection, struggling to make out the words.

  Once he reached it, he traced his hand along the wall, leaving a wet trail behind. It took his frantic mind a moment to realize that he left a trail of blood behind. Maybe the Order of the Flame would somehow use his blood, but he didn’t think they could. He didn’t think they would. What did they need now that they had the dauvern?

  All this time, after everything that he’d gone through, he would lose it now?

  He stumbled and then crashed into a door.

  Ty lost track of how long he sat there. His legs were curled up to his chest and, keeping his knees pulled up, though the pain filled him, he rested his head on the side of the wall, leaving it there for a moment.

  At least, he felt it was only a moment. He lost track of how long he had his head resting on the wall. When he opened his eyes again, some part of him cried out, telling him that he needed to get back up. It told him that he needed to keep moving.

  Only, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do.

  He huddled there, resting against the wall, unable to move at all.

  Finally, he cried out.

  He heard something nearby.

  Pain flared in him again and panic filled him.

  If this was another attacker, he didn’t know if he had the strength or energy to withstand it again. After having gone through what he just had, he didn’t know if he could absorb more. It had taken everything in his power to tolerate the last one, and in this case…

  Something moved near him.

  He rolled onto his side, trying to get to his feet, but he couldn’t see what it was.

  Shadows.

  The Order of the Flame. That was what it had to be. They were coming for him again.

  Hands were on him, grabbing him. He tried to fight them off, smacking at them, though he had no strength in his arms or legs, nothing that he could use to fight back. The only thing he had was his head.

  He leaned forward, banging it against something.

  Another pain flared within him.

  This was a new kind of pain, a new sort of torment, and within it, he felt agony but could do nothing about it.

  “Easy,” a voice said.

  Could it be that it was familiar?

  It didn’t sound as taunting as the Order of the Flame had been, and yet why should there be something familiar in that voice?

  He tried to flail his arms again, but they didn’t react the way they should.

  Ty was lifted, dragged forward, and from there… he knew that he was being taken someplace.

  “Stop,” he said.

  His voice was weak, just like every other part of him. There wasn’t anything that he could even do at this point. He tried to get more power and energy in his voice, but there wasn’t anything that he could do.

  “Easy,” the voice said again.

  This time, Ty knew that there was something familiar in the voice.

  Bingham?

  No, not Bingham. He didn’t have the strength to carry him the way that this person was.

  Could it be Dorian?

  Dorian could use the dragons, and he certainly would have the strength in order to carry him if it came down to it, but he didn’t think that it was Dorian. Why would Dorian be here?

  Of course, Ty had believed that Dorian had been the one who was following him in the first place, so maybe it was him. Maybe he actually had been there all along and just had revealed himself now.

  Why wouldn’t he have revealed himself before now?

  Could he have wanted the dauvern for himself?

  It would allow him to call dragons. Ty knew that, even if he didn’t fully understand how it worked. All he knew about the dauvern was that it was something powerful, some device that would grant magic to those who didn’t have it, and a way to summon dragons. It was the reason that Roson James wanted the dauvern, so that he could draw upon a power that he wasn’t supposed to have.

  Ty tried to swing his arm again, but once again there wasn’t anything in him that gave him the strength necessary.

  “Ty, you don’t have to fight.”

  The voice knew him.

  Who was it?

  He looked up, trying to blink, trying to clear his vision, but darkness still surrounded him.

  It had to be Dorian, then.

  That was why he had grabbed him, but where was he bringing him?

  He had called him Ty, though, and when he had been with Dorian, he had used Ty’s full name, primarily as a taunt, but this one…

  “Albion?”

  He barely got the name out.

  “It’s me,” Albion murmured.

  Ty fell into his arms, barely able to move. If it was Albion, there was no reason to fight. He was who he had been trying to get to anyway. Now that he was here, now that he was with his brother, if nothing else, he would ensure that he was safe.

  If only he had tried to do so when they were younger.

  Maybe Ty wouldn’t have needed to chase the life that he had, and maybe he wouldn’t have ended up this way.

  “What happened?” Albion asked.

  “Order…”

  He couldn’t even finish that much. There was no more strength within him, nothing other than the pain that filled him. He had to be bleeding all over Albion, and at this point Ty didn’t even care. All he cared about was t
rying to stay awake.

  If he started to drift off, he knew what would happen.

  He had to stay awake.

  “Why would the Order attack you?”

  He was setting him down, lowering Ty now, but he couldn’t tell much else.

  “Dauvern,” he whispered.

  He opened his eyes and the darkness was gone. Now he saw a lantern nearby, its pale light reflecting off his brother.

  “Dauvern. You do have it.”

  “Did.”

  Albion sighed. “That’s unfortunate.”

  He left him lying there, and Ty tried to sit up, propping himself on his elbows, but the pain made it difficult to do much of anything. He noticed that there were dragon relics all around him.

  If this was the home of the Dragon Thief, of course there would be dragon relics. How many things had his brother stolen over the years?

  Enough to fill a palace.

  The Dragon Thief had been busy, stealing and filling his pockets with various relics and artifacts, and yet Ty couldn’t even blame him for what he’d been doing. How could he, when he had been doing the same thing?

  He dropped back down to the table as his brother returned. He pressed something against his side. “I don’t know if this is going to do much good. I’m going to need to get you help.”

  “Healer,” Ty said.

  “I know you need a healer, but I’m afraid if I leave you now you aren’t going to be able to survive, and I certainly don’t think you are strong enough to go through the streets.” Albion pressed his side, pushing on it, and it hurt so badly that he wasn’t strong enough not to cry out and fight against it. “Would you stop?” he said to Ty.

  “Hurt,” Ty said.

  “I know that it hurts, but you have to deal with this, Ty. You’re stronger than this.”

  He looked up, locking eyes with his brother’s dark eyes. “How do you know?”

  Albion held his gaze for a moment before tearing it away, and he sighed. He reached for something on a tray nearby before placing it against Ty’s side. Pain flared again, only this was different. Whereas the pain that he’d been feeling was a hot, throbbing sort of pain, this was cold, almost icy, and unpleasant.

  There came a strange stirring within him, as if the item that he placed on his side somehow pulled more of the crossbow bolt buried in him free. It wiggled, moving toward the surface, and the longer that he left it there, the more that pain continued. He could feel it throbbing within him.

  “Hurts,” he said again.

  “I know it hurts. And unfortunately, there’s no other way around it. We have to leave this here until I can get help.”

  “What is it?”

  Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had before, and he recognized that whatever he was doing must be helping.

  “It’s an old dragon relic I have.”

  “Have or stole?”

  “I’m surprised you would even care. I’m even more surprised you would be the one to question me,” he said.

  “I’m not questioning.”

  Strength came back to him, which surprised him. Given everything that he’d gone through, and as much as he must’ve bled, he would’ve expected to be weaker. At this point, all he could do was try to find the strength in him to withstand the pain, but that proved difficult. He looked over at his brother and found him wrapping bandages around his side, pressing the dragon relic against him.

  “We are going to leave this here until I get back. You need to rest.”

  “Are you coming back?”

  “Do you really think I’m going to leave you here?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He looked away, rolling off to the side, looking at the other dragon relics in the room, and wondered if perhaps he would even come back. At this point, he didn’t know enough about his brother to know whether or not he would return with the help that he promised, but he had to think that he would.

  Albion took his hand, squeezing. “I’m not leaving you, Ty.”

  Ty wanted to argue, but everything hurt within him, and he didn’t even know if there was any point in arguing with him anymore. He was here now, though for how much longer? At what point would Albion leave?

  And when he did, would he ever return?

  It angered him that he would have those questions, but it angered him even more that he didn’t know the answers.

  Albion released his hand, and Ty heard the door open and then close.

  He rested his head back on the pillow, keeping his eyes closed but trying to focus on his breathing. The pain was less than it had been before, though worse than anything else that he had ever experienced. Ty had been injured in his job before, though never quite like this. Never with any sort of fear that he might not actually survive.

  “Why didn’t you help?”

  He doubted that the smoke dragon would even respond, especially after having been absent for the entirety of the fight.

  Only, now that he was lying here, feeling the cold of the dragon relic pressed up against his skin, there came another stirring deep within him, almost as if the smoke dragon decided that now would be the time to present itself and try to show whether or not there was anything it could do.

  He laughed bitterly. “No you don’t,” he said.

  The dragon continued fluttering in his belly. There was a surge of heat, followed by a little bit of smoke, and then there was nothing. It was faint, just enough that he couldn’t tell anything more about it other than that it drifted out and around him.

  Ty tried focusing on the smoke. If it was going to respond to him now, then why shouldn’t he let it?

  He remembered what Dorian had told him about the power, the energy he could connect to, but it was more than just connecting to it, according to Dorian. It was a matter of controlling that power, and Ty didn’t know if controlling it was something that he was capable of doing, but more than that, he didn’t even know if it was something he wanted to do.

  He wanted to understand the dragon.

  The dragon had helped him, and had made a point of helping him when it came to battling with Roson, so why shouldn’t he want to work with it now?

  Maybe because the dragon was the reason he didn’t feel like he had any control now. He was here in the city, presumably to learn about the dragon, presumably to feel a measure of control over it, but unfortunately, there was nothing more that he could do.

  The smoke continued to swirl, though as it swirled, there didn’t seem to be a generality to it. There was only a focus, as if the dragon was continuing to circle around his injury.

  Then it began to flow.

  It worked from his head to his toes, the warmth that filled him staying there, reminding him of the pain that he had felt when he had first realized that he had a connection to the dragons, only this time that heat and pain was like a searing sort of sensation, something that struck him as reminiscent of when he’d been shot by the crossbow bolt in the first place.

  His mind numbed to the pain.

  It throbbed within him for a little while before finally easing off.

  And then he settled his head back. He drifted and came around to the sound of voices.

  Hands pressed on his side, and for a moment Ty feared that it was the Order of the Flame, but then he saw Albion’s face again, along with another woman. Raven black wavy hair hung past her shoulders. A dark complexion. A pretty face and bright blue eyes. Her green cloak covered her shoulders, with the hood pooling around them.

  “Ty,” Albion whispered.

  “I’m here,” he said.

  “Thank the Flame,” Albion breathed out.

  Ty wanted to shake his head. Even injured as he was, his brother was going to play at the image that he was a faithful servant of the Flame?

  Maybe he was.

  He realized he didn’t even know. When it came to Albion, and when it came to his level of service, he had no real idea whether or not he truly served the Flame or if it was all an
act in order to gain the access that he wanted.

  Maybe it was both.

  The woman removed the dressing around his side, pressing her hands upon it. “You could have bandaged this more neatly,” she said.

  “I’m not always the neatest,” Albion said.

  “I know,” she said, chuckling softly.

  Ty’s side didn’t hurt nearly as badly as it had before.

  “Let’s see what we have here…” she paused. “You told me this was injured, Al.”

  “It was injured,” he said, moving around the table. “He was bleeding heavily. You saw the blood outside. The trail.”

  He wondered just how much of a trail he had left. Given how badly he’d been injured, and how much he must have been leaking blood, he could imagine that he’d left a significant trail outside, which would only give the Order of the Flame an easier way of finding him.

  “I saw it, but look at this.” The woman held up the dragon relic that Albion had placed on him. “I didn’t think this had that much power.”

  “You’re the one who told me about it,” Albion said.

  “I know I told you about it, and you needed to have it with all of the things you’ve been doing…” The woman shook her head and began to press on Ty’s side. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I suppose I should say thank you.”

  “You don’t need to thank me.”

  “I should thank you, especially since I had to wake you in the middle of the night to come out here.”

  “I don’t mind the waking in the middle of the night.” She grinned at Albion. “I do mind getting dragged out of bed for injured people.”

  “It’s not the first time,” he said.

  “No, I suppose it’s not. I do hope we don’t need to keep doing this.”

  “Me too,” Albion said.

  The woman backed away. “I suspect the two of you need to talk. And I need to get back to sleep. Unlike some people, I do have a long day planned starting at sunrise.”

  “Do you want me to escort you back?”

  “You know that’s not necessary.”

  Albion smiled and walked her to the door, whispering something more to her before she stepped out into the night, closing the door behind her.

  Albion lingered for a moment, and Ty had a feeling that he watched for the woman to depart before turning back.

 

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