Test of the Dragon

by Jessica Drake

  My heart sank a little. Could it be nothing more than a horn? "Even so," Tavarian said, "we would like to inspect it. I may be able to translate the runes, which might have specific instructions regarding the use of the horn. Perhaps it needs to be held at a certain angle or blown in a specific manner."

  "Wait a minute." The woman sitting to the chieftain's right rose, placing a hand on her husband's bicep. She was a voluptuous woman with black-as-night hair, and she glared at us with icy blue eyes. "If we give these people the horn, there is no reason for them not to run off with it. Why should we part with an object of such value without receiving anything in return? And they still haven't satisfied the blood debt!"

  "We do not acknowledge a blood debt," Halldor said hotly. "It was you who attacked us, not the other way around. What we do acknowledge is a goat debt, which we promise to make good on once our ship is repaired and we can go get supplies to offer you in payment."

  The woman and Halldor glared at each other for a long time, a stalemate neither was willing to give up.

  "We do not wish to fight with you," I said in the tension-filled silence. "But we cannot leave without that horn."

  The chieftain sighed, finally sitting down in his chair. "Then let us negotiate."

  He snapped his fingers, and the servants brought us pillows to sit on while we talked with the chieftain. The negotiation went quite a bit better than expected, but the fact remained that the chieftain refused to give up the horn without receiving something in exchange.

  "I cannot just call off the blood debt, either," he said. "If I do, the other clans will think we are weak, and they might join forces against us. The only way that we could consider the blood debt settled without killing two of yours in return would be to receive a gift of extraordinary value. And before you think to offer me gems or gold, don't bother. We have no use for any of that on this island."

  "Then give us a week," Tavarian said. "Let us call a temporary truce while we collect the payment owed. If we do not return with it in a week, then you are free to resume your attacks. Though," he added darkly, "we cannot say what will happen when we are forced to defend ourselves."

  We left the chieftain's house feeling if not triumphant, at least relieved.

  "How are we going to get what they need within a week?" I asked as we flew back to base. "The airship isn't going to be repaired in time."

  Tavarian smiled. "Maybe so, but we don't need an airship for this." He waved his arm around us. "We have dragons."

  7

  "Are you ready for this?" I asked Tavarian as we strapped on our armor. The sun hung low in the sky, bleeding red through our tower room window, the color oddly appropriate considering what lay ahead of us. I hoped it wasn't an omen. We couldn't afford to lose any more riders, not when Zallabar was already doing such a good job of killing us off.

  "I'm actually quite looking forward to it," Tavarian said, tugging a gauntlet into place.

  "Are you?" I studied him for a moment, admiring the way the silvery scales on his armor flashed red in the dying sun. An image of him riding Muza flashed into my head, and I wondered if Tavarian was thinking of his dragon now. The two of them would look formidable charging into battle together, but Muza had essentially taken a pacifist vow, refusing to fight in Elantian wars any longer. Since they were both bound by law to serve in the dragon rider force, that meant Tavarian had been forced to fake Muza's death and send him off to some faraway place, where he would never encounter other dragon riders.

  "Yes." He gave me a bemused smile. "Though I did sincerely abhor the war that Muza and I were forced to fight in, this is different. Elantia may have committed wrongs against Zallabar in the past, but Zallabar is hardly innocent, and it does not justify them trying to conquer our country. If we don't take action, they will only use our wealth and resources to take over more countries until they've conquered the entire continent. Besides," he added with a shrug, "we are not actually going into battle this time. This is a stealth mission."

  "Now made more complicated because we need to bring back sacks of grain and supplies as well as treasure," I said with a sigh. "Are you sure we're not trying to take on too much? The longer this takes, the more likely we're going to get caught."

  "We don't really have a choice," Tavarian said. "Either we get the supplies to appease the Porcillas family and trade for the horn, or we return empty-handed and they attack us again. The other riders and dragons will only take so much abuse, and the last thing I need is for us to end up setting the entire island on fire and unwittingly destroying that weapon."

  "Yeah." I winced at the image that conjured—this place was so dry I could easily see that happening if the dragons got too riled up. "All right, let's get everybody together."

  We went down to the field, where the teams we'd organized were already forming. We'd added a fourth member to each of the three teams, including ours, to help collect supplies for trading, bringing our total number up to forty-four.

  I approached Rhia and Jallis, who were on our team. "You guys ready?" We were taking the most dangerous mission—infiltrating Zuar City—which was why I'd opted to have Rhia and Jallis by my side instead of heading up other teams.

  "Yeah." But Rhia's face was tight. "I don't know what we're going to find, though. I can only hope that my mother already got out with our dragon egg, but..."

  "Your mother is a smart woman." I placed a hand on Rhia's shoulder. "I'm sure she's fine." But secretly, I worried, too. It wasn't just rescuing Rhia's dragon egg we had to worry about; our primary mission was to retrieve the piece of heart Tavarian had hidden. And that was hardly the half of it. We needed to haul as much gold away as possible, check on Rhia's mother and my friends, and possibly rescue Jallis's cousin Dyron. Dyron and his parents were not dragon riders, so they'd been living in a middle-class neighborhood in Zuar City. Hopefully, they'd escaped the notice of the Zallabarians, but there was always a chance they would take the boy in the hope that he would hatch a dragon for himself.

  Even so, I was secretly relieved to be leaving the island, even if it was just for a few days. Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about how the men would fare. It had been three days since the officers among Ragorin's troops, especially the sergeants, had taken the organization of the base in hand. They were a lot better at it than the dragon riders. Cooking and cleaning were well organized, as was the fishing and numerous other operational considerations that I hadn't even begun to confront. Even the locals were starting to cautiously barter with us. The men we'd spoken to earlier must have said something to convince the others it was worth trying to establish some kind of relationship.

  "Commandant." I turned at the sound of Captain Ragorin's voice. He was approaching us with thirty soldiers in tow. "These are the men and women who will be accompanying you on the journey."

  "Great." I surveyed the group, all dressed in civilian clothes. Ragorin himself had suggested the idea of bringing them along. The idea was that they would be re-inserted into the country as civilians, with different identities, to help build up a resistance against Zallabar and eventually throw out the invaders. They stood straight-backed and stern as Ragorin introduced them, and though they looked grim, I could sense the determination in their hearts.

  I took a minute to get to know each of the men and women, wanting to learn a bit about them before I sent them off into a mission that many of them might not come back from. One of them, Lieutenant Kinley, told me he used to be a merchant sailor, and I quizzed him about the island where the Forge of Derynnis was located.

  "I don't know anything about a forge," the soldier said, "but there's only one volcanic island in that part of the ocean, and no sailor would dare go there. There's no fresh water, and it's way too far from any shipping lanes to be useful."

  Wonderful. "How far is it from the closest port?" I asked anyway. It didn't matter how hospitable the place was—we weren't going there for a vacation.

  "Twelve days minimum by ship, if the wind blows fai
r, but up to forty if you're unlucky. If that happens, you'll probably run out of food or water. I highly advise against going there, Commandant. The likelihood is you won't survive."

  "Noted." I supposed that situation suited Derynnis. He was the god of death, after all.

  As I continued to question him, pulling out as many details about the place as possible, Lessie and I quickly realized it would be impossible to fly to the island. It was too far for any dragon to make the flight in one go, and dragons couldn't float on the open ocean. We would all drown.

  "Great," Lessie grumbled. "That means we're going to have to travel by ship again."

  "Nobody said this was going to be easy." But I sympathized with Lessie on this one. I didn’t have a problem traveling by ship so much as I hated having to rely on one. Ever since Lessie and I first started to fly together, the power of flight had given me a sense of freedom I'd never experienced before. The two of us could go anywhere the wind could take us...except, apparently, to an ornery death god's secret forge. The realization was more than a little humbling, or in Lessie's case, infuriating.

  But we'd have to worry about that later. Right now, we had more immediate concerns to attend to.

  After checking in with each team and making sure they understood the orders, our team took flight. Tavarian rode with me, while Jallis ferried our extra passenger, Lieutenant Diran. She was a petite woman, small enough that I doubt Kadryn noticed the extra weight on her back, but the gleam I'd caught in her eyes when she'd introduced herself told me that what she lacked in size, she made up in attitude and willpower. She was just the person we needed on the ground in Zuar City, stoking the fires of rebellion.

  The flight was long, nearly four hours, but with Tavarian's cloaking spell to shield all four of us, it felt almost like a leisurely outing rather than a stealth mission. With Tavarian's warm body at my back, the glimmering ocean beneath us, and the twinkling stars watching from above, I allowed myself to relax for a little while and enjoy what felt like a stolen moment.

  "Are you missing Muza right now?" I asked Tavarian as I leaned back against him.

  His answer was muffled, his nose buried in my thick mass of hair as he leaned his chin against the top of my head. "I actually had contact with him recently."

  "Really?" I sat up a little straighter. "Were we close to his hidden lair?"

  "Not at all," Tavarian said. "Muza and I have a way of communicating despite the distance between us. It is a kind of lucid dreaming, but it only works if both of us are trying to reach out at the same time. Sometimes we can sense fluctuations in emotion that tell us when we need to make contact, but oftentimes we miss such cues, and when that happens it can take weeks for us to catch up. In this case, Muza sensed my recent worries, and he reached out."

  "What did he tell him?" Lessie asked eagerly. "Is Muza coming out to help us?" Lessie was very fond of the older dragon and had missed him terribly once they were forced to part ways.

  I repeated the question and felt Tavarian shake his head. "He offered, but I told him not to come. As much as I miss him, one more dragon is not going to change the outcome of the war. However," he added, "I did ask him to meet us on our way to the forge, since his lair is in the far south anyway.”

  "What do you know," Lessie said. " I have something to look forward to about this trip after all. Muza's company will make things more tolerable, even if we have to sit aboard that stupid ship."

  "You'll still be able to stretch your wings and fly," I pointed out dryly. "You'll just have to come back to the ship before you tire out."

  "Is Muza's lair near the forge, then?" I asked Tavarian.

  "Oh no, it is at least a thousand-mile journey, if not more." Tavarian chuckled wryly. "I thought that Muza's location was remote, but it is somewhat accessible if you know what you're looking for. But Derynnis has us beat, that is for certain."

  "You think he's a crotchety old man, hunkered down in the middle of his volcano as he works on...well, what does he work on?" I asked. "If it's a forge, does that mean he makes weapons?" There were a few legends about ancient weapons forged by the death god, but they were few and far between, and I'd never heard of anybody actually finding one. "You'd think if he did make them, there'd be a few more around."

  "Perhaps he does not wish to share his creations with the world," Tavarian said, sounding amused. "Though one does wonder at a death god creating anything, even if his creations are not living things."

  Jallis and Rhia were having their own conversation as we flew, but as we finally crossed into Elantia, we all went quiet. With only the stars to light our way, we could hardly see anything at all, but from this high up the landscape seemed unchanged. My heart swelled at the sight of familiar forests and rivers, fields and valleys, rippling below us, and for a moment I could almost pretend we were on a training flight and we'd be back at Dragon Rider Academy any minute now.

  Despite Tavarian's cloaking spell, we made sure to avoid larger towns and cities as we headed for the capital. The moonless night meant we had to fly slower than usual, looking out for any patrolling airships. Thankfully, there did not seem to be very many, which bolstered my confidence that the floating islands might yet be intact.

  "We'll stop here for the night," I said to everyone, indicating a thickly wooded forest just ahead. We were about two hours' walk from the capital still, but I could feel Lessie's flagging strength through the bond. "The dragons can rest here, and we'll head in tomorrow morning."

  As it turned out, finding a spot for all three dragons to land was a bit of a challenge, considering we needed to keep them hidden. We found a section of the forest tucked beneath a huge rocky overhanging cliff, and the dragons used their brute strength to clear away some of the trees to make the space wider. It was large enough for all of us, and we could climb up the cliff if we needed a better vantage point of the city.

  As we laid out our bedrolls, a male voice asked, "Getting ready to settle down, are we?"

  I whirled around. Caor stood just beyond the tree line, his form enveloped by a soft glow.

  "Tsk, tsk," he said, glancing at the huge stack of felled trees. "Such a waste of timber. Are you sure you need those dragons?"

  Lessie, Ykos, and Kadryn turned their heads simultaneously toward Caor, low warning growls rumbling deep in their bellies. But the messenger god only laughed, tossing his long, honey-brown hair as if he didn't have a care in the world.

  "Try me," he taunted. "Your claws will only grasp air."

  "Can we all pretend that we're on the same side for a minute?" I snapped as the dragons gnashed their teeth. Rhia and Jallis were of no help. The two of them gawked at Caor like idiots. "Why don't you get to the point and tell me why you came here?"

  "To warn you, of course." Caor's expression turned deadly serious. "Salcombe is on his way to Zuar City as well. He wears a new face, and with his acolytes still in the city to assist him, he may yet beat you to your goal. You must hurry."

  "Great." I groaned at the thought of having to square off with Salcombe yet again. "Can't you tell us what disgui—"

  But Caor was already gone, leaving me in the dark both literally and figuratively.

  8

  The next morning, the five of us set off for the city, each headed in a different direction. We'd risen before the sun so the dragons could drop us into better positions before going back into the nearby woods to hide themselves. Rhia, Jallis, and the lieutenant we were planting were headed in through the southern gate, while Tavarian and I took the north.

  "This thing is heavier than I thought it would be," I huffed as Tavarian and I pulled a cart laden with hay. We'd filched it from an abandoned farm, which I’d hated doing but hoped the owner wouldn't mind too much. It was for a good cause, right?

  "Thankfully, we won't have to worry about lugging it out again," Tavarian said. "We can leave it at the market, or perhaps with one of your orphan friends to sell."

  "That's a good idea." I'm sure life was harder on everyone s
ince the Zallabarian occupation had begun, and someone would appreciate the free hay. "I wonder how the Treasure Trove is doing. I can only guess that sales are suffering since the Zallabarians have chased all the nobles out of the city."

  A massive line, at least a quarter-mile long, already waited outside the gates—both pedestrians here to visit friends or family, and merchants who commuted to the city daily on carts to sell their wares. Tavarian and I joined the end of the queue, and I had to stifle a sigh of impatience as we inched along. As we got closer to the gates, I saw the hold-up. The guard around the gate had been doubled, and every single person was being stopped, questioned, and if they were bringing a cart or other vehicle, searched.

  As we got closer to the front of the line, sweat beaded on my forehead. What if they decided to search me? I'd left my dragon blade behind out of necessity, knowing it was far too conspicuous as a dragon rider weapon, but I had plenty of knives strapped on. Had the Zallabarians enacted a weapons ban? I wished we had a better idea of what to expect.

  We were only five people away when an elegant carriage rumbled past us, kicking up dust along the way. I scowled as it stopped right in front of the gates, cutting ahead of everyone else who had been patiently waiting.

  "What gives?" I complained to Tavarian as one of the guards approached the carriage. The passenger opened the window, and my frown deepened as a young dandy with sky blue eyes and riotous blond curls leaned out to talk to the guard. There was a brief but pleasant conversation, and the guard scribbled something on a small sheet of paper, then pulled it off his clipboard and handed it to the man.

  "Perhaps he's a government official?" Tavarian asked. "Though he does seem rather young."

  The line moved quickly after the carriage passed through the gates, and in no time, we were at the front. To my relief, the guards did not try to pat down either Tavarian or me when it was finally our turn for inspection. After giving them our cover story—we told them we were going to visit my sister after selling the hay—the guard handed us a two-day pass, then waved us through without a backward glance.