The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set

by Leslie E Heath

  “Good. Take a torch. Down you go. This tunnel leads out of the city. You’re free, as long as you don’t turn and attack us.”

  The soldier moved to climb down into the tunnel, but Aibek held up a hand. “Be warned. If anyone among you is injured or bleeding, you’ll attract creatures you can’t outrun. It will mean death to you all.”

  The man met Aibek’s eyes for a long moment before breaking the gaze and descending into the darkness below.

  “It’s safe,” he called. “Come on.”

  Aibek watched until the last man had cleared the steps, then flung the trap door shut behind them and threw the latch. When he’d pushed a heavy chair over the door, he turned and hurried out of the room and down the still-abandoned hall.

  “Weird,” Kai whispered. “I thought we’d have an army in our faces by now.”

  Aibek nodded and continued down the hall, stopping to check for signs of attack at each intersection and opening every door they passed. They reached the front entryway unimpeded and paused to regroup.

  “They’re either moving ahead of us, or they’ve gone to help at the gates,” Marah offered.

  Kai chuckled and stood in front of the broad, intricately wrought iron doors. “I don’t think we should go out the front doors. That’s just asking for an ambush.”

  “He’s right. We should go back to the roof and call the dragons to take us to the gates.”

  Aibek didn’t know the soldier’s name but met his eyes when he answered. “I have a better idea. There’s a courtyard through those doors. If I remember it correctly, it’s large enough for the dragons to land. The walls should keep us from being ambushed while we’re mounting up.”

  “Even better,” the soldier answered and followed Aibek through the narrower doors on the left.

  Intermittent blazes lit the night sky, but Aibek ignored the sights and sounds of battle and set about shoving the fine iron furniture off to the sides, so the dragons could land. Marah blew her whistle several times, tucked it into her pocket, and helped with a heavy planter. Within moments, Gworsad swooped into the courtyard, followed by several more dragons.

  The soldiers climbed silently aboard, while Marah covered the doors with her bow. Twice, enemy soldiers flung themselves into the courtyard. Both times, Marah’s arrows took them down before they could call for help. The band of dragons took flight without a sound and rushed toward the battle raging at the south gate.

  Aibek fought waves of apprehension and disappointment as they flew. His expectations for the battle at the palace had fallen flat, but the night was far from over, and more fighting waited at the wall.

  24

  Traitor

  Ahren struggled to keep her wits in the chaos.

  The dragon swooped low over the melee, but Ahren nudged her back to the sky. She’d already lost sight of Zifa in the rush to get out of the village. Flaming projectiles flew between the dragons.

  “We have to stay clear of their arrows!” She shouted over the rushing winds and the screams of the injured and dying below.

  When they’d reached a safer elevation, she scanned the battlefield and worked to separate the villagers from the enemy soldiers. The enemy’s bright yellow uniforms made them stand out on the field, which helped set them apart.

  In the area nearest the forest, where the fighting was the most intense, a villager wearing the forest’s deep green uniform fought a desperate battle against three enemy soldiers. She notched an arrow and drew the bow taut against her cheek, verified her aim, and loosed the weapon. The arrow sank deep into the side of the soldier's neck and sent blood spraying out to the side. He stumbled once and collapsed. The other soldiers froze and stared toward the sky, but Ahren wasn’t about to give them time to recover. She nocked another arrow and let it fly. It lodged in her target’s chest. Ahren didn’t stop to watch him fall before she drew another arrow, but the villager felled the last soldier without her help.

  She turned, searching for another target, but her dragon dove and twisted. A blinding light flew past Ahren’s face, and Chyndri righted herself.

  “What was that?” Ahren shouted at the dragon. “We’re too low!”

  Before Chyndri could answer, another flaming projectile flew past, missing the leafy fringe on the dragon’s neck by a finger’s breadth. Leathery wings folded and the dragon dove and twisted, avoiding two more flaming arrows.

  The blood rushed from Ahren’s face, and her vision went black. She fought the wave of weakness with everything she had, but it wasn’t enough. Her heart raced even as the darkness took her.

  Cold wind rushed in her face, cooling the sweat on Ahren’s brow. Her eyes fluttered open and she righted herself. Her straps had held her on the dragon’s back, though they pressed deep into the flesh of her thighs. Wincing, she righted herself and eased the pressure off her legs. The dragon beat her wings again, pressing more speed into her flight. Treetops blurred beneath them, though Ahren could only see dim shadows in the near-complete darkness.

  “Where are we going?” Her voice came out a raspy whisper, and she cleared her throat and tried again. “Chyndri! Where are you taking me? We have to go back!” This time, her voice carried up to the dragon’s head.

  Chyndri swung her head around to examine her charge. “You not sick? I take you to Bokinna. She know how fix you.”

  “I’m all right. I just wasn’t ready for that twist.” Embarrassment flushed her cheeks, and Ahren was glad no one had witnessed her fainting spell. “Remember, I didn’t start training with the others. I haven’t had as much time to master those kinds of movements.”

  Chyndri rumbled and sniffed at her. “If you sure, we go back.”

  Great leathery wings banked, and the dragon tilted and turned back the way they’d come. Within moments, Ahren could see the enemy campfires on the horizon.

  * * *

  Faruz directed Gamne along the treeline, watching closely for the emrialk and keeping an eye on the villagers fighting below. Many of the enemy fighters stumbled and staggered under the influence of the fairy wine the groundfolk had slipped into their water.

  Still, frustration built in his chest at the precious little he could do to aid the villagers from his dragon. He’d trained, he’d practiced, and he’d prepared, but he’d given no thought to how darkness would change his battle plan. No, that wasn’t quite right. He’d never considered — even for the barest second — that the enemy would risk attacking them at night, so of course he hadn’t devised a battle plan for the dark.

  A fresh volley of flaming arrows caught his attention, and he pressed Gamne to a higher plane to avoid the weapons. His dragon had just swung around for another pass over the melee when one of the brilliant projectiles punctured a dragon’s wing ahead of him. The dragon wheeled in a tight circle, struggling to maintain control with the wound in her wing.

  Faruz didn’t know what he could do to help, but he hurried Gamne toward the smaller dragon, anyway. They had covered half the distance when the dragon’s rider slid from the straps and plummeted to the ground below. Gamne dove toward the spot where the fighter had landed, and Faruz prayed the rider wasn’t badly hurt. The injured dragon had lost most of her height in her thrashing, so a tiny sliver of hope lodged in Faruz’s gut.

  When he drew close enough to identify the dragon, a fresh wave of horror and fear washed over him. The wounded dragon was none other than Ekys, the young female paired with Zifa. Fear for his wife and child nearly paralyzed him, and he struggled to make his fingers work against his strap knots when Gamne finally landed near her. A new scream rent the night, but nothing existed but her unmoving form huddled on the ground. He cried out and fell to his knees beside her. He cradled her head in his lap, brushing the sweat-soaked hair back from her face. A line of blood trickled from her mouth.

  “No! No, no, no! You can’t die. You can’t. I need you.” His voice trailed to a whisper, and he hunched over her lifeless body until his forehead rested on her chest. He needed to listen for a heartb
eat, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. If he heard nothing — his mind blanked, unwilling or unable to complete the thought.

  Gamne nudged Faruz’s back, but he ignored the gentle touch. “Your seeds help her.”

  That brought Faruz’s attention to the dragon. “How?”

  “As long as heart still beats, the seeds make her stronger, help her heal.”

  Faruz needed no further encouragement. He pressed his ear to her chest, careful not to press too hard and accidentally hurt her. Her heartbeat was rapid and weak, but it was there.

  Elation coursed through him, warring with the mingled grief and horror he’d felt since she’d tumbled from her dragon. He reached under his shirt, grabbed one of the tiny vials, and yanked until the cord holding it snapped.

  With shaking hands, he pulled the little stopper out and tossed it aside.

  “Please let this work.” He didn’t know who he was begging, but it didn’t matter. He wiped the blood from her lips with a clean corner of his shirt and used his thumb to pull her bottom lip down. The oily liquid dripped into her mouth, and he held the bottle there for a long moment, making sure she received every drop.

  A weak cough and grimace gave him hope, though she didn’t move or open her eyes.

  It takes a few minutes to work, he reminded himself. It never worked as fast as he’d like.

  “Faruz,” Gamne called, an urgent note in his voice.

  Faruz tore his eyes from his injured wife and leapt to his feet. An enemy soldier charged toward him, sword held aloft as he ran. The man screamed, rage and pain evident in the sound.

  Light flashed above, one of the dragons letting out a breath of fire that illuminated the entire field, if only for a moment. It was enough for Faruz to identify the man charging toward him.

  “Kaskin! What are you doing?”

  His words slowed the man’s charge but didn’t stop it.

  Kaskin screamed a curse and swung his blade toward Faruz’s chest, though there wasn’t much power in the blow.

  “Where is he?” Kaskin screamed, madness and rage filling his eyes.

  “Who?” Faruz blocked another half-hearted attack and stepped away from Zifa’s still-unmoving form. He couldn’t risk stepping on her or worse — deflecting Kaskin’s blade into her flesh.

  “Where is he? Where’s Aibek? I’ve looked everywhere. He’s on one of those beasts, isn’t he?” Kaskin pointed to the sky.

  Another blaze lit the night, and this time, Faruz got a better look at Kaskin. Blisters and open wounds marred his face, his clothes were ripped and scorched, and the arm he wasn’t using to hold his blade hung limp at his side, the shoulder protruding at an odd angle. The memory of Kaskin standing by the campfire when Gamne flew overhead flashed through Faruz’s mind. Another dragon had torched the camp behind them. Somehow, the man had survived that, likely driven by his need for revenge.

  Faruz scowled and backed further away from Zifa. “He’s not here. You did all of this for a chance at him, didn’t you? You gave away our position. You told the enemy about our dragons, and you helped them come up with a strategy to fight against them — all so you could kill Aibek, didn’t you? Well, guess what, he’s not here. He’s still in Xona, freeing the city from your new master.”

  Fury filled Kaskin’s face again, and he raised his blade in a fresh assault. He rained down swings and jabs so fast, it took all of Faruz’s considerable skill to avoid them all.

  “I have no master,” Kaskin ground out between attacks. “I am the one in charge. I’m always in charge — or at least I was before that no good, meddling foreigner,” he spat the word like a curse, “took everything away from me.”

  Faruz stepped forward, ready to end the fight once and for all, but Kaskin spun on his heel and raced away. He took several long steps before Faruz realized his goal.

  “Ekys!” Faruz shouted, but the dragon didn’t look up. She kept her head on the ground, watching Zifa as if she were the only thing that mattered.

  Before Faruz could get the dragon’s attention, Kaskin reached her. He grabbed at the leafy collar around the young dragon’s neck and tugged, struggling to pull himself up onto her back. The yanking got Ekys’s attention, and she spread her wings and hopped a short way, trying to shake Kaskin off her frill. When that didn’t work, she tossed her head and leapt into the air, her injured wing beating weakly and limping into the sky.

  An emrialk screamed, silencing the field for a heartbeat. This one sounded close. Faruz had read that emrialk would scavenge if fresh meat was available, and bodies of fallen soldiers on both sides littered the ground near the trees. They must smell the blood. A fresh wave of horror struck him when he realized just how close Zifa was to the forest. He had to get her away, somewhere safe. Safe? Where would she be safe? Enemy soldiers had begun attacking the village even before the dragons had landed. They’d be in the forest, in the clearings. The only safe place he could think of was the Bokinna’s clearing, but that was too far from the battle.

  While he searched for a solution, Kaskin screamed again, though this time the sound was filled with pain and terror. Ekys gave another shake midair, and Kaskin finally lost his grip on her tender fringe. He toppled through the air, his good arm and legs flailing. An emrialk jumped over the strip of ground between the dragon and the forest and snatched Kaskin from the air. His scream cut off with a sickening gurgle, and a terrified silence fell over the battlefield.

  A fresh fervor filled the voices of villagers and enemies alike as each worked to finish the battle and retreat to safety. A few less-disciplined soldiers from both sides scrambled away, running into the blackness of the grassland.

  Faruz turned his attention back to his wife. To his relief, she had sat up and had a hand pressed to her chest. She looked pale and dazed and bloody, but she was alive. He fought the urge to crush her against him, instead kneeling and taking her hand.

  “We can’t stay here. Do you think you can walk? Or should I carry you?”

  An emrialk screeched, punctuating his words.

  “I’m all right. I can walk. Where’s Ekys?” As if called, the dragon landed beside Zifa and lowered her head to Zifa’s level.

  Zifa pressed her hands to the ground, easing herself up out of the mud. Faruz jumped to his feet and grabbed her elbow to steady her as she stood.

  “Can you fly? I go slow. I hurt, too.” The dragon held her wing out at an angle, so Zifa could see her wound.

  “Hold on.” Faruz ran to the dragon’s injured wing and pulled a second vial of the tincture from under his shirt. This time, he dumped the contents in his palm, rubbed his hands together, and massaged the oil into the dragon’s injured wing.

  “Ooh, that much better,” she said, laying her head down and lowering the wing so he could reach it better.

  He massaged the wound until another piercing shriek told him he’d run out of time. He grabbed Zifa’s hand and helped her onto the dragon. He watched while she tightened the straps down completely, anxiety tightening his chest and making it hard to breathe. In moments, the two lifted into the night sky and disappeared into the darkness.

  His wife safe, Faruz sprinted back to Gamne and scrambled onto his dragon’s back. He yanked the straps tight and urged the dragon into the sky before he’d finished tying it off.

  * * *

  Gworsad led the other dragons beyond the wall, where they dropped their extra warriors off with the waiting army. As soon as the fighters were clear, the dragons leapt into the air and raced to join the fight at the gate.

  A dozen dragons circled the gates, occasionally raining fire down on the towers when archers gathered there. Gworsad held back while Aibek searched for Vayna in the melee. A blast of white fire blinded Aibek for an instant, but before darkness fell again, he spotted his friend circling the tower to his right. He pointed him out to Gworsad, who nodded and sped off in that direction.

  Vayna spotted them and waved, and Aibek gestured him to the side. The dragons found a spot away from the figh
ting where the friends could hear each other.

  “I didn’t expect you so soon! Have we captured the palace?”

  Aibek shook his head. “Yes and no. We defeated the few soldiers that had been left to guard it, but no one important was even there. I’m hoping they’re here. If not, we may have to search them out in the city.”

  Vayna nodded. “We’ve almost got the gates opened. The army’s in position to flood the city as soon as we do. They can’t fight the dragons. They’ve tried aiming the trebuchet at us, but Ogarren made short work of them.” He patted his dragon’s flank. “He’s got the longest range of any of the dragons.”

  “Well done.” Aibek fought a grin at his friend’s obvious pride. “Where do you need us?”

  “Can you help back up the men at the gate? They need some help since we don’t have a battering ram.”

  “Got it.” Aibek nudged Gworsad, and the two flew high into the air over the wall.

  “Any ideas?” He asked.

  The great dragon swung his head around to peer at Aibek with one gleaming orange eye. “You have Bokinna’s strength, yes?”

  Aibek nodded.

  “I pull beside and you shove gate? I swing tail and hit as we fly away. We go again until metal breaks?”

  “It’s worth a try. Let’s go!”

  Gworsad flew close to the top latch on the gate, but Aibek couldn’t reach the metal over the dragon’s wide flank. Gworsad slammed the end of his tail into the lock as they flew away, denting the bars and creating a deafening racket.

  “Can you get me any closer?” Aibek shouted over the rush of wind and clang of metal.

  The dragon didn’t answer; instead, he circled around for another pass.

  This time, the metal creaked and groaned under the pressure from Gworsad’s flank pressing against it. It gave a final high-pitched scream as the lock and hinges broke away. Below, a cheer rose up from the soldiers waiting to enter the city.