Master Jesper distributed flasks to everyone, each with a hook that could attach to a sword belt. Once everyone had secured their poison-filled stick bombs and taken a fairy iron weapon from Master Jesper’s burlap sack, I clapped my hands together. “It’s time to go.”
We all stepped out onto the darkened terraces, lit by the fluorescent wings of confused dragon moths. Up ahead, the weathervane took on the shape of a sunbird, its fiery wings spread wide, lighting up the dome of fairy iron encasing the mountain.
Thunder rumbled from beyond the dome.
“I can’t tell where the noise is coming from!” said Stafford.
I turned to Albens and his group of mages. “What usually happens during the drills?”
“Stations of witches will stand within the dome at cardinal directions.” The pale-eyed Griffon brother ran a hand down a thick beard-braid that reached his chest. “They maintain the entrances and exits into the mountain. Beyond them, you’ll find another four teams of witches at the wards on the outskirts of the territory.”
“Right,” I said to the group. “Let’s get our dragons and meet around the Lightning Tree.”
“There’s a whole gang of us up on the surface,” said Fyrian. “Byrrus, Flavo, Regiis, Fulmen, and a few others who didn’t want to go into hiding during the siege.”
I relayed that message as we walked through the terraces. Albens activated a stair-stone, and we all ascended to the next level. We reached the mountaintop and paused. Fyrian had understated how many dragons would wait for us on the surface. I recognized the dragons of my friends, the green dragons who lived on Fyrian’s terrace, and the red dragons who volunteered for our dragon riding lessons. Vermiculus, the rapier red who had lived in the palace with Fyrian, stood at her side next to Rubens, the rapier red who taught me to ride when Fyrian had been behind bars.
Everybody rushed to their dragons, and a hand wrapped around my forearm. “Alba.”
I turned and stared into warm, dark eyes. “Niger?”
He placed both hands on my shoulders and fixed me with a serious gaze. “I respect you as a warrior too much to ask you not to fight, but I want you to be careful.”
“I’m always—”
“Listen.” He gave my shoulders a gentle squeeze. “The Forgotten King is the biggest threat in the Known World and far more powerful than the Snow Queen your aunt defeated.”
My brows drew together. This wasn’t like Niger. He had a lust for battle and was the first to volunteer for dangerous missions. Now he was acting like Rufus with his warnings. “What’s wrong?”
“I do not want to lose you.”
“You won’t.” I placed my hand over his pounding heart. “Whatever happens, I’ll return. And so will you. Would it make you feel better if I put on my Bluford disguise?”
His face tightened. “It would make no difference. I have admired you since your duel with King Magnar. Back then, I wanted to be your friend. Then, when I discovered you were the beautiful Princess Alba from the opening ceremony, I wanted to be more.”
Every nerve ending tingled with a giddy euphoria, making my face break out into a grin. If Father wasn’t on his way, and we weren’t crowded by warriors, I would have thrown my arms around his neck and kissed him. His words were exactly what I needed to bolster my spirits before facing the forces of the Forgotten King. I wouldn’t just be fighting against evil or to protect the dragons. I would be fighting for a future with Niger. Losing wasn’t an option and neither was sacrificing myself. If I returned victorious, I would prove myself strong enough for a life with Niger.
He brushed platinum strands off my face. “These past few weeks have been a dream. But if I fall in battle, I want you to know my feelings.”
I grabbed the lapels of his flying jacket and yanked him down several inches. “You won’t fall. And neither will your brothers or any of our friends. I won’t allow it.”
Niger grinned, his eyes sparkling. “When you speak like that, you make everything possible.”
I dipped my head and gave him a gentle whack on the shoulder. “Come on, we have a battle to fight.”
Many of the dragons flew down to the bottom of the mountain, leaving Flavo, Fyrian, and the group of green dragons who had performed the display of fire at King Magnar’s Savannah Sky Commander contest.
“Are they sure they want to fight the Forgotten King?” I asked Fyrian.
“They haven’t forgotten all you’ve done for us,” she replied. “It would be a crime if we all hid in the basement while you fought our battles.”
I nodded. “Can you open up our connection so they can hear?”
“Certainly.”
A moment later, all the green dragons turned their gazes to me. The sunbird flew on the other side of the mountain, lighting up the dragons’ backs, but their eyes glowed in the gloom like different shades of fire. Among Fyrian’s crimson gaze burned eyes of candle-yellow, amber, gold, salamander, and scarlet. The sight of so many dragons willing to fight on my side made my chest tighten.
“Thank you all for volunteering.” I blinked hard. If I had to say the next words out loud, my voice would probably break. “You’re all extremely brave, and I’m touched by your willingness to help at our hour of need. Your strength will make a huge difference in the upcoming battle. We’ll be relying on your venom and combined power to destroy fairy artifacts and to cripple the forces of the Forgotten King. Together, green dragons are invincible!”
The green dragons let out roars of approval.
“What’s wrong with them?” asked Stafford.
“I thanked them for volunteering.” Jerking my head toward the silver dragon who had accompanied us to the locust infested capital, I said, “Come on, let’s get to the bottom. Where’s Evolene?”
His brows drew together. “I offered her a lift with Fulmens, but she told me she’d be fighting the battle with Phoenix.”
“Are you all right about that?” I asked. Last week, Stafford had gotten himself worked up about Evolene’s bonding with the master dragon cadet. I didn’t want any hard feelings to get in the way of the battle.
A flush crept across his skin. “What does it mean when a girl grabs you and gives you a huge kiss on the lips?”
I clapped him on the back and grinned. “Only good things.”
Fyrian and I flew over the terraces to the bottom of the mountain. The sunbird illuminated our way, and I cast it a wary glance. Did it remember the battle we’d had with the weathervane, or was it a completely different enchantment now?
A muffled clap of thunder filled the air.
“I’d worry about whoever’s rattling on the wards if I were you,” muttered Fyrian.
I gulped and tore my gaze away. “You’re right.”
Fyrian landed in a meadow at the base of the mountain, dotted with wildflowers that glowed a fluorescent purple. About three-dozen dragons, most without riders, milled about, waiting for orders. Behind them stood the burned-out giant sequoia whose insides writhed with molten fire. I stood on Fyrian’s back, placed my hands on my hips and addressed the group. “We’re going to split into teams of four. Albens, you’re leading your team in the west.”
He and his purple dragon, Regiis, took to the sky, followed by the rest of the mages.
Albens had probably only volunteered to keep an eye on us. With his purple dragon, he could appear anywhere in the blink of an eye, so I didn’t feel bad about not splitting up his group of qualified mages to bolster the other teams.
I turned to the rider cadets, who all sat atop red dragons. “Muti, you’ll lead the team in the north. Your team will be the fastest. Surround your enemies and poison them before they strike. We might be carrying out attacks, but we’re going to use stealth and return to the others safe and well, all right?”
Muti shook his head, clinking his green-beard braids. “I wanted to use my new dagger.”
“We don’t know how many people will be out there or what species.” My shoulders tightened. “Our enemy use
s artifacts to force people to work and fight on their behalf. If we hurt any innocent people under their spells, they’ll become victims twice-fold.”
He gave me a sharp nod. “I understand.”
My shoulders relaxed. He and the riders were the most hot-headed group. “Let’s fight to protect the innocent and not for personal glory.”
“You can count on us!” He made a jaunty salute, and then he and his cadets flew around the mountain.
I gave them a nod of satisfaction before turning to the drogott team. “Niger, you’re—”
“No.” He rose up and stood on Flavo’s back. “I will fight at your side.”
Everyone exchanged confused glances.
A breath of frustration heaved out from between my lips. “You’re a natural leader. The team in the south needs your guidance.”
His shoulders slumped. “But—”
“Do not worry about the fairy’s safety.” Gladius stepped out from the crowd, making himself visible. “She has the oldest and most powerful dragon in existence fighting at her side.”
With a loud, reluctant sigh, Niger bowed his head and nodded.
A pang of guilt struck my heart, but I had to ignore it. If we were to have a chance at defeating the Forgotten King, we needed the strongest and most tactical-minded people leading each team. Although Niger deferred to me during our adventures, I’d seen him with the drogott team. Besides, it would be difficult to focus on the battle if I was worried for his safety.
Niger and the drogott team flew away, taking Rufus and Gobi with them. Gobi cast me a wistful look, and I gave him a wave. There would be plenty of time to catch up after the battle with Father’s little brother.
The rest of us—Gladius, Stafford, Evolene, King Magnar and his sisters, and Eyepatch and his nephew—flew down to the east, where Dr. Duclair hovered with a crowd of witches around a spot on the iron dome. It didn’t have the intense effect as the Isle of Iron, and I hoped it would be strong enough to keep out any evil fairies.
We landed around the witches. “Hello, Dr. Duclair. Where’s Madam Maritimus?”
“Securing the outer-east wards. That’s the source of the attack.”
“Is anyone going to help her?” asked Stafford.
The yellow-haired witch’s shoulders sagged. “We can’t leave our stations. It’s a common tactic to focus an attack on one side of the siege and then send the bulk of the troops through a poorly guarded entrance.”
I nodded. “We’ve sent out teams to each cardinal point. Could you let us out, please?”
She opened the wards, letting dim light from the exterior of the mountain stream in. “I hope you all know what you’re doing.”
There was no reply to a comment like that. None of us had even fought in a war, let alone under siege conditions. I only hoped the other teams wouldn’t face an enemy as ferocious as the one in the east. Fyrian flew through, followed by Fulmens, Byrrus, and Vermiculus, who carried Eyepatch and his nephew.
More thunder rattled the sky.
“Hurry.” The doctor flicked the wand, shrinking the portal. “We need to close this gate immediately!”
We flew ahead. She’d only closed the wards because Gladius and Phoenix didn’t need them open to get through to the other side. The gray clouds thickened to the color of charcoal, blocking out all but the barest trace light. I turned around and marveled at the iron sphere. The architects of Mount Fornax must have anticipated the high fairies would attack the sanctuary one day, but had they factored in protections against the dark magic of the Forgotten King?
Gladius appeared at our side, his scales looking a dull white in the dim light. “I can smell the foul magic even from this distance.”
“Still coming from the east?” I asked.
“Yes. They are concentrating their attack at that spot. Does it have a reputation for being weak?”
“There was a tunnel there that led outside the wards,” said Fyrian. “I’ll bet the librarian told King Calder in one of their reports.”
“Probably.” I clenched my fists. Madam Maritimus had closed it off during the rampage of Asproceros. And with Master Solum and the black dragons fixing all the illegal tunnels leading in and out of Mount Fornax, the King’s intelligence would be obsolete.
Thunder rumbled across the wards, and a bright flash of silvery lightning filtered through the clouds of fairy iron. Whoever was out there had to be powerful.
Fyrian glided over a field of glowing sunflowers. “The spriggans did say they’d spent centuries working out how to control the dragons. If they have been watching Mount Fornax since its construction, I’ll bet they have an idea or two on how to make the wards fall.”
“That means we didn’t kill them all at the palace,” I said.
“They could have shared that information with others,” added Gladius. “We don’t know how long they have been converting children into abominations.”
Fyrian released a plume of smoke from her nostrils. “None of that matters. You have the spriggan poison.”
“True.”
We glided past King Magnar’s dung-hut, and down to where Madam Maritimus stood with a crowd of witches, each holding their staffs to the wards. Glowing, white light seeped from their crystal tips into a blanket of dark clouds that stretched up into the sky. Something, perhaps the thunder, made the clouds darken and billow and ripple like they’d fallen prey to a magically induced storm.
The white-haired witch broke off from her group and approached us with her hands folded across her chest. “Why aren’t you back in the mountain behind the dome of fairy iron?”
“We’ve come to fight,” I replied. “Could you open a space in the wards, please?”
“You should have thought of that earlier,” she snapped. “Any openings in our defenses will let in a whole host of attackers who will distract the witches from powering the wards.”
Gladius transformed into a man and folded his arms across his chest.
Madam Maritimus flinched. “Y-you’re the first dragon.”
“Yes,” he said with a growl in his voice.
She raised her chin and gripped her staff. “It doesn’t matter what you say. I won’t open the wards and let fellow witches get killed.”
“No need.” He strode to the back of the dragons.
“W-what are you doing?”
Byrrus, Vermiculus, and Fulmens moved their tails toward Fyrian’s, and Gladius wrapped his arms around the bundle.
“Wait!” shouted Madam Maritimus. “You can’t let cadets—”
A heartbeat later, we all stood outside the wards. About a hundred armored knights on horses the size of fanged cows banged on drums so loud, the ground beneath us trembled. I groaned. At a time like this, we could have used Niger, his Smoker, and his poison-breathing dragon.
“Everybody, cover your mouths and noses,” snarled Gladius. “I’m about to put these humans to sleep.”
Evolene pulled out her staff and created a thin, yellow bubble that encased all the dragons. She turned to King Magnar’s witches, who sat atop Byrrus. “I need more power!”
Astri and Botilda raised their staffs and streamed their magic into Evolene’s bubble, turning it opaque. The drummers stopped their piece and waited, presumably to see if the noise they had created would topple the wards. I turned around. The thick, fairy-iron clouds swirled back into place.
Gladius vanished and reappeared as a dragon in front of the drummers. The horses reared, but before they escaped, he blew out a stream of yellow smoke. Each of the armored knights fell except for one who loomed at the back. Armor, the color of dried blood, covered his broad, seven-foot-tall body, and a horned helmet covered his face and head.
I gulped hard. “Is this him?”
“That’s not the Forgotten King,” said Fyrian.
“A spriggan, then?” I asked.
“No,” replied Gladius, “But he is wrapped in their magic.”
The man lifted the visor of his helmet, revealing shining, turqu
oise eyes.
King Magnar snarled. “Father.”
The monster’s lips parted into a grotesque smile. “I see you have returned two of what belongs to me. Bring the other four, and I will give you a painless death.”
Chapter 18
My nostrils flared, and my hand tightened over the handle of my Parched Sword as I glowered at the oversized monster in the blood-red armor. King Calder had to be the worst father in history. After getting magic and youth from the spriggans, he still wanted more and was prepared to sacrifice his daughters’ lives to achieve it.
I glanced at the two witches sitting atop Byrrus. Botilda twisted her body away from the sight, hiding her head in her sister’s shoulder, while Astri glared ahead, vengeance burning in her cold, blue eyes. King Magnar sat straight in his saddle, sword drawn, blade pointed toward his father. The muscles of his arm trembled with the desire to cut him down, and every tightened muscle in his face spoke of his determination to protect his sisters. His gaze didn’t waver from King Calder, his turquoise eyes burned with fury.
“You know what to do,” Fyrian. “Smash his helmet to pieces and watch him explode.”
“I’ll deal with him as soon as it’s safe to step out.”
Gladius let out a roar that made the horses bolt toward the horizon, taking with them the unconscious drummers. King Calder didn’t even look in their direction or seem phased that they’d all abandoned him on the battlefield. My shoulders relaxed. At least now we could fight King Calder without worrying about humans who might have been enchanted.
King Calder strode toward us, teeth bared and looking like the brute in the portrait his son had sent Aunt Cendrilla with a proposal and a declaration of war if she refused. “Hiding behind the magic of witches, boy? I thought I taught you better.”
“Your instruction on how to be a decent human being was woefully lacking.” King Magnar stuck his nose in the air. “However, I will teach you never to harm another living being.”
The enchanted monarch threw back his head and laughed. “Fool! You can’t even usurp your father. Now, the spriggans have given me everything I desire: youth, magic, and a position of honor upon the rise of their master.”
Dragon Mage Academy Box Set Page 142