by J. R. Castle
Quinn saw Ignus turn and go swooping back, a red flash of wings tearing through the sky. Fire erupted from his mouth, burning in a gigantic lance over the Black Guard. Several fell, but others raised magical shields to turn back the flame.
A squad of Black Guard stepped out from the shelter of a building, raising bows. A flight of arrows scythed up, rising far higher than an arrow had any right to do.
Magic arrows! Quinn realised. He’d seen them at the Black Guard barracks back on Yaross Island.
He twisted and dived to the side as the flight of arrows whistled past him.
‘Get higher!’ he yelled to Ulric and Ignus, as the arrows magically returned to the guardsmen’s hands, ready to be fired again.
His wings felt like they were burning as he fought against gravity, forcing himself higher and higher. He knew that even the magic arrows couldn’t shoot up forever. Another arrow whipped past him, almost grazing his neck, but then he flew out of range.
He looked down in time to see Thea, who was crouched behind a water barrel, cast another spell that knocked the legs out from under the archers.
This is our chance!
He tucked his wings close against his body and dropped, feeling gravity take him. He angled himself towards the fight, then felt magic tickling over his scales. He glanced behind to see Ulric following him, emerald green scales glittering in the early morning light. Even as he looked, Quinn saw Ulric start to glow and he realised that he was glowing too, growing brighter and brighter as he plunged towards the Black Guard.
Light burned from Quinn’s scales as Ulric’s shadow magic surrounded him. Below, guardsmen covered their eyes against the blinding glare of the two plunging dragons. Quinn let out a deafening roar that sent guardsmen staggering back, deafened and unable to see. Soon, it would be Lorimer’s turn.
Behind her water barrel, Thea rose up and began chanting, her hands moving in complex, weaving gestures, gathering her power. Then she thrust her hands forward. The air seemed to ripple then punch outwards. Guardsmen went scattering across the street, bouncing off walls and staggering helplessly to their feet again.
Then Quinn was among them. His claws smashed a pair of dazed guardsmen from their feet, the black armour shattering under the force of the blow. His massive tail whipped behind him, crushing a small group of guardsmen who had been taking shelter behind an overturned wagon. Another guardsman galloped out of a side street, swinging a sword in a great overhand blow. Quinn knocked the man contemptuously aside. Behind him, he heard the roar of Ignus’s flame as the fire dragon joined the assault.
Quinn flapped up into the air again, feeling a fierce happiness. At last he was fighting back! Now to find Lorimer and finish this.
But then, something snatched at his left wing. He felt a sharp pain, like a red-hot needle jabbing into his skin. Arching his long, golden neck around, he saw an arrow lodged in the leathery underside, just behind the joint. His wing spasmed and suddenly Quinn lost control. He tried to flap with his one working wing, but the ease with which he’d controlled it just moments earlier had gone. Spinning helplessly, he was flung head first downwards, straight onto the street below …
CHAPTER 14
ESCAPE
Quinn let out a cry as his full weight smashed down into a house.
The impact was like being kicked in the chest by a horse. Tiles shattered and the roof beams smashed into splinters. Stones exploded outwards as the walls gave way under the enormous blow. The house fell to pieces as Quinn crunched downward through two floors.
He landed in the rubble, dazed, his head spinning. Every inch of his body flared in agony. He staggered to his feet and tried to peer through the dusty air. Splintered wood and cracked stone jutted up around him.
‘No!’ he cried, looking downwards. Instead of the golden scales and strong dragon muscles, he saw his usual human form, dressed in his ragged clothes. He’d been so busy plummeting to earth, his concentration had gone – he’d let go of his dragonform as he’d hit the ground. He patted his side and breathed a sigh of relief as he found his sword still there.
In the broken doorway of the house, two black-armoured figures loomed large, crunching through the debris.
‘In here!’ one of the guardsmen shouted.
Transform! Quinn thought frantically. He tried to find that anger and ride it again, but his head was spinning and he could hardly think straight.
Come on!
It was no good. His body was in too much pain and he stumbled away. With a shout, the guardsmen came charging in pursuit.
There was a back door to the destroyed house, but it was half full of rubble. Quinn flung himself onto it and scrambled up, trying to ignore the flaring pains in his back and head, and the dust in his mouth and nose. He coughed and staggered on.
The first guardsman swung at him and Quinn leapt forward. He clambered up the hillock of loose stone and rubble, slid down the other side and out of the door.
‘Get back here!’ the guardsman yelled.
No chance! Quinn thought, as he jumped to his feet and ran.
He burst out onto the main street and saw the chaos of the fight unfolding. Guardsmen were slumped against walls while others desperately tried to regroup. The street was full of smoke, and small fires burned everywhere from Ignus’s burst of flame.
Up ahead, he saw Thea slip through the gates behind the Black Guard. Quinn put his head down and sprinted after her.
A guardsman saw him and shouted a warning, but then Ignus came sweeping down, his fiery breath burning a furnace-hot line down the street, and the guardsmen had to crouch down behind their magical shields again.
‘Go!’ Ignus cried.
Quinn raced through the gate. Guardsmen came pounding in pursuit. Quinn’s breath felt like fire in his chest.
Thea was waiting just past the gate. As Quinn ran through, she cast another spell and thick smoke billowed up behind him. He heard guardsmen coughing and choking as they plunged into it, but Quinn knew it wouldn’t hold them forever.
‘Go!’ he shouted. ‘Go!’
‘This way!’ Thea beckoned, then ran ahead of him down the sloping road towards the marshes.
‘There’ll be Black Guard on the main road,’ Quinn panted. He could hardly get the words out he was so short of breath.
‘Into the marshes again …’ Thea managed in reply.
They reached the point in the road where they’d climbed out of the marshes, and leapt back off the dirt road, onto the soft, wet grass. As the mist crept about their legs, Quinn glanced back and saw the guardsmen emerge from the smoke and plunge after them in pursuit.
Ignus and Ulric appeared over the top of the walls, sending fire after the guardsmen. A couple at the back fell, screaming, but the rest ran on.
‘Which direction?’ Quinn called desperately to Thea, who was plunging ahead. ‘Where are we going?’
Thea glanced back. ‘Follow me,’ she said, and began chanting again.
As Quinn watched, he saw sparkling light stretch out like an uneven, twisting carpet across the marshes. Her magic was showing them the safe way, Quinn realised.
Grimly, they hurried on. The cold and the mist seemed to close in around Quinn, turning his clothes damp and clammy. He hoped Thea’s magic could lead them the right way.
A loud splash and a curse sounded behind him. Quinn spun around as a great, black-armoured guardsman lumbered out of the marshes. His feet were sinking under him, but he was ploughing his way forward through sheer might. He held a huge double-handed sword before him and when he saw Quinn he roared and charged.
Quinn yelped and snatched for his own sword. His feet slipped as he did so, and the great sword sliced right over his head.
Quinn lunged, his light, golden blade taking the guardsman’s legs out from under him and the man fell, hitting the brackish water with an almighty splash that sent a small wave washing over the grass. His heavy armour dragged him down.
Quinn scrambled to his feet, his golden sword h
eld out before him. He didn’t have time to turn and run. Two more Black Guards came charging out of the mist. Quinn backed away. The guardsmen took careful steps to the side, feeling their way on the uncertain surface as they tried to flank him. More Black Guards followed, emerging like dark ghosts along the path. Quinn held his sword out before him as he followed Thea’s chanting.
‘Keep going!’ he yelled.
The two guardsmen lunged. Quinn swept up his sword and parried one, but the other charged full force towards him. The guardsman’s shoulder caught Quinn full on his chest and the weight of the hard black armour sent him flying back. He collided with Thea and felt her fall too. Her chant broke off as she hit the ground.
Guardsmen threw themselves forward. Quinn rolled and a sword cut into the grass where he’d just been lying. Another guardsman stabbed down at him. Quinn blocked the blow just in time. He pushed with his heels. If it hadn’t been for the treacherous footing, the guardsmen would have surrounded him by now.
Quinn swung his sword at ankle level, and the guardsmen leapt back. One lost his balance and disappeared into the water with a cry, but the others advanced in a line. Quinn felt Thea gain her feet behind him, but he didn’t dare turn to flee. The guardsmen would cut him down the moment he turned his back.
There were seven guardsmen advancing on him now. Quinn managed to find his feet, but he had no idea how he was going to hold all of them off. He hadn’t had any real training, and the marshes went on for miles. It would take all day to cross them, and only one guardsman had to get to him.
He clenched his teeth. I’m not giving up!
The guardsmen lifted their weapons.
‘Run!’ he shouted to Thea.
They sprinted, plunging into the mist as they skirted the guardsmen. Quinn heard a shout and a crash and someone splash into water, but the mist was swirling and he couldn’t see anything. He leapt from grass tussock to grass tussock, desperately trying to find a good footing.
A small pond loomed up ahead, and Quinn took it at a flying leap. He hit the water and felt his legs sink down. He grabbed hold of solid ground and hauled himself up. He’d lost sight of Thea, but he couldn’t go looking for her now.
He gained his feet and stumbled on.
Something hit him from the side with the force of a charging bull. Pain flared in his arm and shoulder and he was smashed to the ground, skidding over the mud and sodden grass. He wiped the globs of mud out of his eyes and stared up.
Clean and pristine, with a gleaming helmet and purple plumage sticking up, Lord Lorimer stood above him. A slimy smirk spread across his face, as he waved his sword above him.
‘At last, boy,’ he gloated, ‘I have you.’
CHAPTER 15
A COLD EMBRACE
Quinn tried to rise, but agony shot through his whole body and he slumped back down.
‘I have looked forward to this since the Emperor told me you hadn’t drowned with your miserable parents,’ Lorimer sneered. ‘Now I will finish the job I started. Emperor Marek’s bloodline ends here!’
‘Not today,’ Quinn spat.
He kicked out with all his might. His feet shot under Lorimer’s shield and caught the man full on his armoured stomach. It knocked him staggering back, giving Quinn a chance to clamber to his feet. He ignored the knife-sharp pain all down his left arm and dragged his sword free.
Lorimer charged forward, swinging, and Quinn beat the man’s sword down. He sent a backhand swipe at Lorimer’s head, but Lorimer caught it on his shield. Quinn followed it up with a slash that almost took Lorimer’s feet away from under him. The man jumped back just in time.
A faint gust of air cleared the mist just long enough for Quinn to see more Black Guard closing in, but Quinn didn’t care. Lorimer was his enemy. The man had murdered his parents and had tried to kill him. He was the one who’d caused all the misery and unhappiness in Quinn’s life. He’d stolen Quinn’s parents from him and had let Vayn crush Alariss under his heels.
He hammered a blow at Lorimer’s head and the man retreated again.
Quinn felt the anger building up in him once more, burning like a furnace, threatening to overcome him, and he sensed the dragonform inside stir in response.
No! He wasn’t going to do this as a dragon. He’d defeat Lorimer as himself. He’d show Lorimer what it was like to fight the true Emperor of the Twelve Islands face to face.
He launched another attack, blows whistling in at Lorimer from every side. Lorimer’s shield spun from his arm as Quinn’s attack cut it almost in half.
‘You killed my parents!’ Quinn bellowed, and for the first time, he saw fear in Lorimer’s eyes.
Lorimer took his sword in both hands. With a scream, he launched an attack. Quinn stepped easily to one side and the sword stuck in the muddy grass. Quinn didn’t give Lorimer time to recover his weapon. He slashed out and Lorimer staggered back, retreating faster and faster, his feet sending up splashes of black water. Quinn heard the shouts of guardsmen, but he didn’t care.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a great, dark, looming figure with long arms and a heavy, blocky head appear from the mist. For a second he wondered if it was Ulric, using his shadow dragon powers, but the terrifying creature was all too real.
Lorimer saw the awe in Quinn’s eyes and turned to look for himself. The creature let out a roar of anger, a cry of pure hate and malice. Vayn’s magical creation knew nothing but rage – it didn’t know the difference between Quinn and Lorimer and it certainly didn’t care.
With another roar, it bumbled forward, tearing at them both.
Quinn leapt to the side, hacking at the creature with his sword. The metal tore off a chunk of stone that exploded into the air, but still it came forward. It flailed its fists in the air – yellow troll eyes burning with magical anger.
‘See what you’re up against,’ Lorimer called. ‘You’ll never defeat Vayn!’
Quinn dodged once more. If he didn’t get out of there, he’d be turned to stone.
Suddenly, he had a flash of inspiration. Turned to stone …
With a cry of anger, Quinn dodged past the troll and headed straight towards Lorimer’s outstretched sword.
‘You want to die by my sword, you worm?’
‘You’ll die before me, Lorimer,’ Quinn cried.
As expected, the Stone Troll lumbered after Quinn as he sprinted towards Lorimer. As he approached, Quinn ducked, rolled away from the sword Lorimer had waiting, and skirted past him. With a kick to the lord’s back, Quinn sent him straight into the troll’s arms.
‘No!’ Lorimer yelled in terror, unable to stop himself.
The Stone Troll lumbered forward and grabbed Lorimer in a deathly embrace. He struggled for a moment, but then every movement in his body slowed. His skin darkened and stiffened. Life seemed to drain from his body. His eyes hardened. His eyelids froze mid-blink. His mouth stopped moving, stretched wide in a silenced scream. Slowly, his entire body turned to stone and he toppled sideways to lie, unmoving, in the marsh.
Quinn stared down at the man but felt no pity. If anyone had deserved this, it was Lorimer.
Around him, Quinn heard shouts of shock and fear. The Black Guard were retreating. Some of them were even fleeing, leaving their weapons and shields behind as they ran for the safety of Astria. Quinn stood, looking at his defeated opponent. He had beaten Lorimer, but it still didn’t feel good. His parents were still dead.
Suddenly he snapped out of it, as more Stone Trolls lumbered out of the marshes. If he was turned to stone now, his friends would have no chance, and he’d never get to overthrow the man who had started all of this: Vayn.
As if just thinking about the Emperor was enough, magic flared in front of him, roaring up in burning, purple flames that seemed to snap like whips through the air. In the midst of them, Vayn’s face appeared on the defeated Stone Troll’s head.
‘Who do you think you are, boy?’ the Emperor raged. ‘You are nothing! Your father was ten times more powerf
ul than you, and I crushed him. You will never take my throne! I will grind you and your pathetic friends to dust! When I am finished with you, you will beg me to kill you.’
But Quinn wasn’t listening. His father! That was what Vayn had said. Marek had had power over the earth: stone, minerals, metals. If he pleased he could strengthen them with his magic to make the strongest of fortresses. Or, he could use his fiery breath to melt fierce armour or high walls. Maybe Quinn had the same power.
He let the anger surge up in him again, and this time he didn’t push it back down. He rode it, letting it carry him forward, and his dragonform came upon him, faster and easier than before. His body grew, his wings and tail burst out, and golden scales covered his body. His neck and head elongated, and in seconds he had transformed. Vayn’s face on the Stone Troll twisted in hatred.
‘Dragonblood!’ Vayn spat.
Quinn flapped his wings, sending the mist eddying away, and lifted into the sky. He felt fire boil up inside him, and he kept it there, burning hotter and hotter until it raged like the sun in him. Then he bent his neck and sent a fireball shooting right at the Stone Troll.
Vayn shrieked, and his face disappeared. The fireball caught the Stone Troll full on its chest, and the stone seemed to melt, flowing and dripping down, like it had been turned to hot rubber, sending steam hissing up from the water as molten stone splashed down. Then the Stone Troll slumped, falling to pieces as it dropped. In moments, only glowing lumps of rock showed where the monster had been.
Quinn let out a roar of triumph. I was right! I do have my father’s Earth Dragon powers! He scanned the swamp, his keen eyes picking out the hulking forms of the Stone Trolls. Then he tucked in his wings and swooped towards them.
EPILOGUE
Thea and Quinn knelt in front of a stone figure in the misty marshes while Ignus, Ulric, Maria and Mother Onyx looked anxiously on. He’d tracked down and destroyed the Stone Trolls, but now he had another promise to fulfil.