War of the Dragons

by K.N. Lee

  He nodded, half-listening, as his focus was on using his energy and power to make the curse stronger. “They won’t if this curse continues to work.”

  Dragons continued to fall from the sky by the dozen. While the Dragon soldiers had been mobilized and sent to quash the invaders, it was futile. No one would be able to touch them. They fell to their deaths, crashing to the rocks of the beach and to the ground in their human forms. The sound of bones breaking and heads being smashed was like a victory cheer to his ears. It brought a small smirk to his lips.

  This war was personal.

  He didn’t sail half-way across the world to fail.

  “Let me finish them off,” Priscilla said, rubbing her hands together.

  She’d barely had to lift a finger on this mission. Warwick had everything prepared and every last detail had been well thought out. He might have not needed her on this mission, but if the prophecies were correct, she’d be useful once they had the half-blood.

  “No. It is not time. Don’t worry. You will have your chance soon enough. I have a special task for you—one where you can truly show your skill.”

  “But, look at them. They are quite useless without their shifting ability. Like rag dolls. Vulnerable,” she said, and lowered her voice. “Like us.”

  She was right. Without their power, the Dragons were little more than humans. “The world is about to change. Dragons will never be the same.”

  “Dragons have always looked down on us, when it was our ancestors who gave them their power,” she said, sitting on the ground beside him and folding her legs under her.

  He lowered his staff and glanced at her. “Let’s see how they enjoy being our equals.”

  It was true that the dragons of the old days had inhabited their world since the beginning of time. It had been a time of great chaos. While they spent their days in their mountain lairs, they’d comb the human lands with destruction and death, killing and eating livestock and the sometimes the farmers themselves.

  When the great wizards hatched a plan that was supposed to both stop the attacks and increase the power of magic-born men and women, they never knew what they were actually creating. All of the world was at risk. It was crumbling and dying because of what they’d done.

  Warwick was determined to reverse their errors.

  This, was just the beginning.

  Chapter 7

  Fear and courage fought for dominance as they took turns flickering in Ophelia’s eyes. The guards forced her to her knees and they scraped the stone pathway in front of her burning estate. She looked for Luca, not prepared to be away from the woman whom she’d come to love as a dear friend.

  The red mist clung to the air, and all of the Dragons who breathed it in were unable to shift.

  While Parean soldiers crowded her estate and the Wickenham grounds, the wizard and a young woman with the mask on her face seemed to be the ones in charge.

  “If you had just drunk the elixir, we wouldn’t have had to use force,” the wizard said. “I will give you one last chance to cooperate.”

  “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “Sir Warwick Ludlow, at your service, madam,” he said with a deep bow, mocking her. “Now, drink the elixir so we can leave without worrying about you shifting on our ship.”

  She frowned. “You’re a human.”

  “Correct,” he said.

  “Then, why are you in Dragon territory? It is illegal for you to even be here.”

  “Not anymore,” he said. “Not since the Withraen’s started raiding our lands.”

  She swallowed. She had no idea about that. She was sure there must be some misunderstanding. Rowen would not let her Dragons do such a thing.

  “But, what do you want with me?”

  “Such things are none of your concern. All you need to know is that you are now prisoner to King Kelton of the central dominance of Trinity. You belong to the Trinity brothers until your sister and her usurper of a husband agree to our demands.”

  “What demands?”

  He shook his head. “So many questions. When the only one you should be thinking about is how badly do you want to live. Do I want to have my head separated from my body? Those are the questions you should be asking yourself.”

  She pursed her lips. She did not want to die today.

  Nodding, Ophelia finally gave in. They’d already bound her wrists and clamped a collar made of enchanted steel around her neck so that she couldn’t shift into a Dragon and escape. The elixir was just another form of suppressant. She knew it would not harm her. She’d heard of it before. It was used on prisoners. Still, it didn’t erase the terror she felt at the thought of not being able to transform into her Dragon form.

  She opened her mouth and the thick liquid was poured down her throat. Swallowing, she grimaced and wished she had something to take the bitter taste from her mouth.

  “Good girl,” Warwick said. He nodded to the guards. “Take her to the carriage. We will use the Gatekeeper route to get her to Trinity as quickly as possible. The king will be waiting. He is not a patient man, so hurry it up.”

  Being marched away from her home for the second time in her life, Ophelia was numb to it. The effects of the elixir had already began to take effect, draining her energy and clouding her mind.

  “You didn’t have to drug me,” she said, slurring as she was taken past the wizard.

  He met her eyes with his, a pale blue. “Can never be too careful when prophecy is involved.”

  Prophecy?

  She frowned and her eyes rolled back into her head. She was lifted from the ground and carried, and no longer cared. The drug was oddly euphoric, if not scary. She had no control over her arms or legs, and could barely keep her head up.

  Mother had always said she was a remarkable Dragon. Red dragons were rare. They were revered even higher than golden dragons, and she’d been blessed with a scarlet shade that filled her eyes and covered her scales whenever she made the change.

  Still, neither knew where it came from. Her mother was a white Dragon, her father had been brown, and Rowen had never been able to transform.

  She may never know what made her so different.

  Chapter 8

  Rickard held Rowen tight and breathed her in one last time. He smoothed her hair, watching how the sun reflected off the golden highlights. They would have to part for the time being, and he hated not knowing how long it would be before he saw her again.

  “Are you certain this is a good idea? Withrae needs you right now,” she said in a soft voice that tugged on his heart strings.

  He pulled back and held her at arm’s length. He looked deep into her gray eyes and wiped a tear from her cheek.

  “You do remember who you’ve married? If there is anyone who knows the outcome of every possible scenario, its me, my love.”

  She smiled and nodded. “You’re right. You’re a clever bugger,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll give you that.”

  He hugged her again. “That’s right. I’ll fix this issue with the humans and return before you know it.”

  “Promise?”

  He tightened his jaw. He couldn’t make a promise he couldn’t keep. It was bad luck. But, he’d do anything for her.

  “I’ll do my best,” he said. “Trust me on this. You keep Withrae from falling apart for me, will you?”

  She nodded. “Of course. Considering they’ll let me wear the crown without you around. I fear they’ll kill me in my sleep without you here to protect me.”

  “Rowen,” he said, his brows furrowing. “Withraens have honor. They would never harm their rightful queen. Stop saying such nonsense.”

  “Coming from someone as manipulative as you, you don’t think one of the lords could have it out for me? Haven’t you heard whispers about the House Umbridge, or even House Rabaht and how they say they have a better claim at the throne than you?”

  He rolled his eyes. “They’ve been whining about their rightful claims to the throne since for
centuries. No one pays them any mind.”

  The great houses of Withrae were always talking about their claim to the throne. But, talk meant nothing. Until they made a move for his rightful title, he would keep them where they were. Close in the center of the city in their grand houses. Right where he wanted them. Right where he and his spies could keep an eye on them.

  “Your majesty,” General Roth called from behind. “We should start out before dark. The road leading from Withrae to the canals will flood before nightfall.”

  Rickard looked over his shoulder at the small group of one thousand Dragons. They were ready to march to the border, they just waited for him to say his goodbyes.

  Rowen had flown there. It was a miracle. While all of the other Dragons of Withrae were forced to remain in their human forms, she was still able to fly in hers. It made her special. It also made her a target for scrutiny.

  The common folk didn’t understand why she wasn’t affected by the mysterious red mist. No matter what they did, Rowen was still an outsider, as she would always be.

  “Just a moment,” he said to the general and turned back to Rowen.

  She looked up at him with worry in her eyes, and for a moment, he felt what she did. Neither knew what was awaiting him on his journey, but he was the king and he had to do something to protect his people. She would be safe in the palace until his return.

  He held her by her hips and pulled her in for a kiss that neither of them wanted to break away from. Savoring the taste and feel of her lips, Rickard wished his father and brother hadn’t screwed things up so much.

  Now, as always, he had to clean up their mess.

  “I love you,” she said, and turned away without another word.

  He watched her fly away and knew she left so abruptly because she didn’t want him to see her cry. It pained him to think of the amount of grief and fear she suffered. Her sister had been kidnapped and was now thousands of miles away in the human Parean islands.

  A plan to rescue her was in order. But, first, he needed to find a way to fight against the magic of the human’s wizards.

  Walking back to his horse, he climbed up, and nodded for the procession to begin. A thousand Withraen’s on horseback was a strange sight, but a formidable one. In blue and silver armor, and armed with the strongest Draconian steel, they were prepared for whatever they’d encounter on their journey, on this most important mission.

  They began down through the countryside and toward the Lysimian canals as the sky darkened as rain brewed behind the gray clouds.

  Magic wasn’t something the Dragons knew much about, but Rickard had an idea, one that the humans would never see coming.

  Chapter 9

  Soon, they would reach their destination and Warwick would execute the plan he’d devised nearly five years ago. Seated around a crackling fire, he and Priscilla enjoyed the quiet of the night. There were no clouds in the sky, and for the first time in weeks he could count the stars again. Just a few days more and Draconia would fall at his feet.

  Priscilla curled her hands around her dagger and sliced it through the air. “It’s been so long since my blade has tasted blood.”

  He chewed a piece of dried meat and settled back against a tree stump. Crickets and cicada’s chirped and stirred as the flames licked and danced in the darkness of the forest.

  “Put that away,” he said. “You won’t be needing it.”

  The look of disappointment on her face was like a child who had their doll taken away.

  “But, you said—”

  “I said put it away. I didn’t bring you along to tussle and brawl with the half-blood. Your role is much too delicate, and there will be no blood shed. Do you understand me?”

  Lowering her head, she let out an exasperated sigh and sheathed the dagger. She turned away and settled onto her wool blanket, her back to him.

  Warwick rolled his eyes, but let her sulk. She was only twenty, but he wouldn’t tolerate her childlike behavior.

  They’d left the soldiers behind. The rest of their mission would be executed alone.

  “If you’re going to sulk, you may as well practice. It won’t hurt to be prepared. This will be the most difficult mission you’ve ever had.”

  She sat up, her long hair cascading down her back as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t talk to me about difficult. What you do is little more than alchemy and magic tricks. I have the real power. Don’t you forget it.”

  He leaned forward, but didn’t speak. He would never admit that she was right. He was a wizard and a scientist with decades of training. But, Priscilla was something more—something unnatural.

  For a moment, they locked stares, each unrelenting, before he shook his head and pulled another piece of meat apart and stuffed it into his mouth. “That’s right,” he said. “Now, do as I say and practice. I don’t want any mistakes.”

  Pleased that he had agreed with her, she hid a small smile that slightly turned up the corners of her full mouth. Then, her hair began to glow and change colors. From black to red it went, then to white, and she closed her eyes as the light raced up and down her body.

  Mystified, he stood and watched her for a moment. He had to give her credit. She was a marvel. While she practiced, he turned and entered the forest, snatching his staff from its place beside him.

  He might as well follow his own advice, and practice himself.

  With a jolt of power, his staff awakened, and he summoned a darkness that resided in his soul.

  Dark magic was tricky. Risky. But, sometimes that’s what you needed.

  Chapter 10

  Rowen pulled her cloak over her head and lowered her eyes. From the top of the municipal tower, she peered at Rock Bottom, the seedy part of the city where danger was known to lurk in every corner. With a deep sigh, she stepped off the edge, and soared down to the ground. She landed on her feet without a sound, and the cackling of a couple of drunkards down the street to her right reached her ears as she straightened her clothing and gathered her bearings.

  Walking through the kingdom’s lower cities was indeed dangerous, but, she needed help. She needed a few of her questions answered. There was one person she could count on to give her what she needed. One person she trusted even more than her husband.

  The sky was darkening as she walked deeper and deeper into Withrae’s underbelly. The paved streets went straight downhill, toward the sea. Shops and homes lined either end, and drunkards and homeless vagabonds slept in the alleys. There were things she wanted to change in the kingdom, but hated how long everything took. How many things each decision had to go through. If it were up to Rowen, she’d come down here and clean up the streets herself.

  She tensed when a little boy in raggedy clothing ran out in front of her. His face was covered in dirt and soot, and his hair was long and stringy, soaked with water and what looked to be oil or tar. It was too cold outside to wear such scant clothing. She could tell by the way he shivered that he’d been out there for far too long.

  He reached out to her with open hands. “Please, miss. My ma and pa haven’t been back in days. Got any food?”

  Without hesitation, she reached her hand into her cloak and opened her coin purse. “How about a few gold coins to get you through the winter?”

  The smile that took over his face warmed her heart. How could anyone leave such an adorable little boy alone like that? He couldn’t have been older than eight years old.

  The moment she pulled the golden coins from the bag, his eyes widened and instead of taking them from her, he turned and ran the other way.

  Confused, Rowen lowered her hand and began to call for him. “Hey!”

  Before she could utter another word, she was lifted from the ground by large hands and carried into the alley. She yelped, but a sweaty hand clamped over her mouth.

  Frantic with shock, she tried to free her hands and get a grip on her assailant’s exposed flesh. One touch was all it would take to bend him to her will. Just one.


  But, she couldn’t get her hands free far enough to grab his forearm. She tried to scream.

  Instead of assaulting her, as she was certain he’d intended, he snatched her coin purse and pushed her into the wall. Then, he ran, barely showing his face.

  Stunned, Rowen stood there for a moment, trying to catch her breath. She balled her hand into a fist and slammed it into the wall at her back. She should have known better. She should have been more careful and paid attention to her surroundings. She was a powerful wizard, and still got robbed.

  Rickard would not be impressed. No, he’d be disappointed. Maybe even ashamed. With a frustrated grunt, she left the dark and wet alley that was slick with ice and back into the street. This time, she kept her eyes up and made sure she wasn’t being followed. Though she hated to admit it, it might be time to learn how to fight.

  Rickard kept trying to get her to join him in the mornings in the training camps. She was too busy reading the old scrolls and trying to make sense of all of the recorded prophecies in the Literary Vaults in the center of the city. There had to be something in there that would explain what was happening to the air in Draconia.

  Something that wasn’t her fault.

  Maybe if she solved a few of the problems Draconia faced, she would end the threat with Trinity and Ludlow.

  “Best to keep away from these parts, miss,” a familiar voice said from behind.

  She turned to face Perdan and relief washed over her. She hugged him around the waist.

  “Perdan,” she said. “How I’ve missed you.”

  He stroked her hair. “I’ve missed you as well, Ro.”

  She pulled back and smiled up at him. He looked the same as when she’d last seen him. Clean shaven, with long blond hair and brown eyes.

  “But, what are you doing out here? You know it isn’t safe.”

  She took him by the hand and headed back toward her destination.

  “You know why,” she said. “Have you taken a look around? This red mist is destroying Withrae.”