“I believe so.”
Landow’s smile remained plastered to his face as his father stormed out, but the light in his eyes died a little.
Later that evening in a room in the castle that overlooked the garden, Landow and Ychthorn met with Zina and one of their friends from the youths’ secret underground movement.
“I think you should move up here, too, Thorn. You are not safe down there in the wagon. Some people are going to be very mad. I would be much happier if you were nearby and had a better guard.”
“I do not fear your father, Landow. He cannot get into the castle without permission. I am as safe as safe can be in the garden.”
Zina shook her head, looking at Thorn in disbelief. “A year ago, Slyvania would have said the same thing. And yet, she was kidnapped from her room and your friend Ator was rescued from the dungeons. It is possible to penetrate these walls. And Jacon has friends none of us know about. Of that I am sure.”
Ychthorn sighed. “I will think about it. The room next door is prepared, should I choose to move, but I am quite happy in the garden and I wish to remain there as long as possible.”
Landow held up his hands in defeat. “I understand. I do. I just worry for you.”
“I know.” The dragon smiled. “Now, let us turn our attention to something more pleasant and finish this game of double blocks.”
Zina laughed. “Landow was just trying to distract you. He doesn’t like to lose.”
***
Water trickled down the walls in the musty room where a man in the gray cloak waited. Jacon held a kerchief over his nose and mouth, a look of disgust clear on his face at being in such accommodations. The man rose as the noble walked in, fighting back a smirk at Jacon’s discomfort.
“Let’s get this over with.”
The man bowed. “You wish to acquire my services, sir. What do you require of me?”
“I want that dragon dead.” Jacon’s anger echoed through the stone room. He took a deep breath and continued. “And I want the council dissolved.”
The man looked at Jacon for several minutes before responding. “That will be expensive.”
“Cost is of no issue. Get the job done and you will be richly rewarded.”
“Very well. Give me a week for the dragon. The council will be a bit more difficult. Simply killing them all will do no good. They must be undermined over time. I suspect you wish to be involved and to succeed them at some point?”
Jacon smiled, his white teeth practically glowing in the dimly lit room. “Of course. What point would there be to removing them if I cannot have a part in their replacement? And I want to know your every move. I want to know when you will strike the dragon, and I want to know how. Make him suffer greatly.”
“As you wish. I will contact you in two days with more information. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Not at the time. Do well with this and you may be receiving other jobs in the future.”
With that, Jacon turned and left, followed by his guard. When their footsteps stopped echoing along the sewer walls, the man in the gray cloak turned. Stepping from a shadowed doorway, a large Gypsy with long black hair grinned.
“You have done well, Gillith. Make the plans, keep him updated. I will make sure we are prepared when you are ready to move. Here is your first payment, as discussed.”
Gillith took the offered canvas bag, jiggling it to test the weight of the coins inside. Satisfied, he stuffed the purse into his cloak and bowed. “Thank you, Malxon. I will keep you informed of my progress.”
As the big man left, he took a seat in the single wooden chair in the room, smiling to himself as he contemplated a comfortable future.
Chapter 24
The moon was quiet, hiding in the darkness on the other side of the world. Its light refused to illuminate the cruel happenings that it knew were about to occur. Taking full advantage of its disappearance, three intruders sneaked through the sewers to the musty room below the castle.
“Is everything in place?”
Gillith leaned against the wall, a smoking pipe in his hand. He raised his gaze from the moldy floor to stare at the man who had just walked through the door. “Yes, Jacon, everything is in place. We leave when my informant arrives.”
Jacon glanced around the room, looking for the single chair that had been there before. It had been removed and he gritted his teeth as he realized he would have to stand. His two guards stood behind him stoically, barely breathing while he shifted uncomfortably. By the time the informant arrived thirty minutes later, his feet, knees, and hips hurt and he was ready to call the whole thing off. When the knock came on the door, he jumped and had to bite back a squeal.
Gillith pushed himself away from the wall and walked to the door. He knocked twice, and three followed from the other side. Opening the door, he ushered the young boy in.
“Ready?”
“Yes, sir. The dragon is asleep in the wagon. He is inside with the roof closed.”
Gillith clapped the boy on the shoulder and grinned. “Excellent. Well done.” He turned to Jacon. “Let’s go.”
He left the room, heading the opposite direction from which Jacon arrived. The young boy followed, leaving Jacon no choice but to do the same. His guards brought up the rear. They had knives concealed in their boots, he knew, though he hoped they would not need them.
As they walked through the dark, following the torch Gillith had picked up from the wall, Jacon fiddled with the matchbox he kept in his pocket. The wagon was solid wood, and it had not rained in days, so it should be dry enough to go up quickly. From what he had been told, the boy was tasked with locking the roof of the wagon down so that the dragon could not escape. Jacon hoped he had done so. He did not want to face an angry, scorched dragon.
They reached the end of the tunnel and turned left. Within fifteen minutes, they reached a grate that was embedded in the ceiling. Several metal rods had been cemented into the wall and Jacon groaned as he watched Gillith begin to climb. The portly man waited until the grate was open and the boy was through before following.
When he emerged, he discovered he was in a part of the garden he had never seen before. It was a far corner away from all doors, along the wall that shut off the sea. He could see lights on in several windows high up in the castle, but no shadowy silhouettes threatened to discover their secrets.
“Come. This way.”
Jacon followed the man in the gray cloak through the trees and around the rose bushes. They paused as they reached the clearing in the middle of the garden. There, beside a single great oak, stood the pitch-black Gypsy wagon that was large enough to house one of the most famous dragons in Layr. The sight caused a smile to tug at the corners of Jacon’s lips as he imagined it consumed by flame and the roars of the creature trapped inside.
“He should have died with his mother,” mumbled Jacon, stepping from the shadows.
Jacon’s guards flanked him as he crept toward Ychthorn’s home. He pulled the tinderbox from his pocket, along with several handfuls of straw. Shoving the straw into a gap between the wheels and the main box, he pulled out a match and struck it. A small fire burned brightly at the tip of the thin wooden dowel. The light danced in his eyes as his hand moved toward the straw, fear and excitement quickening the beats of his heart.
As the first sparks took hold on the dry weeds, Jacon heard a clattering behind him. He turned and met an unexpected sight. His guards stood with their hands up, knives on the ground beside them. Gillith had a sword drawn, the blade tight against the throat of one of the guards. Malxon was with him, his own sword pressed to the chest of the second guard.
Jacon stuttered and stepped back, distancing himself from the pair. “What is this? What is going on?”
A rumbling growl to his left drew the man’s attention. “Why don’t you tell us, Jacon? What exactly is going on?”
The dark red dragon emerged from the doorway of the castle, Jacon’s youngest son on one side of him and
the servant boy on the other.
“Landow, you betrayed me? After everything I have done for you?” Fury crept into Jacon’s voice as he spoke and anger tinged the corners of his vision a bright red.
“No, father,” Landow said, stepping closer. “You betrayed yourself, your land, your people. Killing Ychthorn would do nothing to further Layr; it would only cause more pain and suffering.”
The boy stepped forward again, reaching a hand out to touch his father. Jacon, angered beyond the point of reason, wanted nothing to do with the child.
“Don’t you touch me, you vile thing. You are your mother’s creature, not mine. Get out of my sight.”
“Father, don’t—” One more step forward, a lunging leap to grab Jacon.
He spat at the boy and backed up again. Only then did he feel the warmth behind him. He turned, seeing the wagon engulfed in flames. The heat continued at his back, even though the wagon burned before him. He tried to turn, catching a glimpse of fire in his vision. Pain exploded and burned, clawing at his skin through the thick fabrics that he wore. He reached behind him, tearing at the clothing. It would not come off. His skin ached terribly and he screamed with pain.
A terrible fear tore through him, accompanied by a pained howl. He dropped to the ground and Landow dropped beside him. The boy had a jacket in his hands and was smothering his father with it. Jacon tried to fight him off. He would not be murdered by his own son. But the pain was too much and he could not hold off Landow any longer. As he began to feel faint, he realized the boy was not trying to kill him. He was trying to help him. Jacon let the black take him, regretting all the vile things he had done in life.
***
“He will live, though he may not enjoy it so much as before. The fire did a lot of damage. He may never walk again.”
Ychthorn stood with Landow in the infirmary where Jacon lay unconscious, under the watchful eye of a double guard. When the doctor left, Landow turned to his mentor and friend.
“I am sorry for my father’s actions. And I am sorry that we did not stop the fire in time. We should have been able to. I didn’t think he would actually get the chance to burn it.”
Thorn shook his head. “No, do not be sorry for what you have not done. We retrieved everything useful from the wagon, just in case. And in a way, it is freeing to have the thing gone. It was my home for so long, but this is my home now and I must accept it. Without the wagon to turn back to, I will be forced to move forward and embrace what is to come. I can no longer hide in the past.”
Landow nodded. “That is very wise of you. Who would think you are barely four years old?”
Ychthorn smiled. “Sometimes I forget that myself.”
***
A strong wind blew cold from the north as Ychthorn stood in his tower bedroom, looking out over the lands around Rona. He had long ago stopped hoping for Lana’s return, but he never stopped watching. Just as he was about to turn from the window, he noticed several figures appear on the horizon. The longer he watched, the larger the figures grew. Dragons. Lots of them.
Ychthorn raced down the stairs and out into the courtyard. Ignoring the cries from questioning servants, he took to the air, beelining for the approaching beings. As he drew near, he noticed the coloring of the dragons. Most of them were white, though there was a splotch of color here and there among them.
He recognized the bright green of Ator and headed for him. Landing beside his friend, he tackled him in a hug. When the pair rose, Ychthorn looked around. His gaze passed over the light green dragon twice before noticing the woman on his back. She was haggard and drawn and her hair had grown long.
“Lana.” His voice was a bare whisper.
She slipped from the dragon’s back and approached him slowly. “Thorn.”
Lana reached out a hand and stroked his muzzle, sending a warmth coursing through his veins. He nuzzled her fingers, then licked them once.
As a group, they returned to the castle, a new beginning awaiting them all.
***
“This is a rose. Can you say rose?” Lana asked the hatchling sitting in her lap. Upon her return, she did not wish to be part of the council. At her request, she turned the former hatchery into a maternity ward and day-care center for the children of working dragons. It had been a welcome addition and she thrived in the peaceful, loving environment.
Ychthorn embraced his status as the son of Sigurd and accepted the title of King of the Dragons. A palace was built for him along the Black River, complete with a monument of his mother and father. He is living up to his father’s legacy.
Dixon found a job with the militia. He and Lana were married several months after their return to Rona. Veni found a place in the palace as Bellithana’s assistant and she is expected to marry Landow any day now.
Special Thanks
I would like to thank Katie, the wonderful artist who designed the cover, and my editor, Anne, who keeps me from embarrassing myself too badly.
Other Books By This Author
Blood of the Dragon
Vampire Assassin (Jane #1)
New Blood (Jane #2)
Blood & Tears (Jane #3)
Redemption (Jane #4)
Til Death (Jane #5)
Vampire Assassin (A series of novellas) - The first three books in the Jane series. Available on Amazon in paperback.
About the Author
Samantha Warren is a fantasy and science fiction author who spends her days immersed in dragons, space ships, and vampires. With her pet dragon, Anethesis, she ventured to the ends of the universe, but the cost of space travel cut into her sock fetish fund, so she sold her ship and returned home. When she isn’t writing, she’s milking cows or trying to feed them Pop-Tarts. She spends a lot of time in her weed patch (aka: garden), watching any show featuring Gordon Ramsay, or posting random things on her blog.
Interested in contacting Samantha?
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: @_SamanthaWarren
Blog: http://www.samantha-warren.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorSamanthaWarren
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Special Thanks
Other Books By This Author
About the Author
Winds from the North: An NA Epic Fantasy (Blood of the Dragon Book 3) Page 14