Dragon Magic: Lyric's Curse 2 (Dragonblood Sagas Book 4)

by Robyn Wideman

  “Alright, so now that we know who you are, tell me why you are here,” demanded Azina.

  Carvel looked nervously over at Blair then at Azina. “I thought Blair explained?”

  Azina waved a hand at Blair. “A nosy bartender with a talent for making ale, I make my own decisions. Now tell me why you are here.”

  “Because we want to find Lyric Finch,” said Carvel.

  Azina rolled her eyes. “Every man and his dog wants to find Lyric. Why?”

  “Because he is dragonblood,” said Marsden.

  Azina shook her head. “You blockheads are good at telling me things I already know. How about telling me something I don’t know.”

  Tripp Hayes stepped forward and handed Azina his sword. “This sword has been in my family for generations. It belonged to my great grandfather Edwin Hayes, who served as Daxrah for Brendon Fallstorm. Sir Fallstorm was a dragonblood, his dragon was Pyphan, a gold-blue. After Sir Fallstorm and his dragon fell at the hands of the Sacred Blood my father returned home. When the remaining dragons disappeared, he hid away his Daxrah gear but he passed on the knowledge of dragons and the Daxrah to my grandfather and from him down to my father, every generation has trained and waited for the return of dragons and dragonbloods. Carvel and Marsden are also descendants of Daxrah warriors who served Sir Fallstorm.”

  Azina glared at Carvel. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place? Okay, assuming I believe your story, what makes you think you’ve earned the right to be Daxrah? Your great granddaddies might’ve been brave and great warriors, but that doesn’t mean you’ve earned the right to such an honor.”

  “We will face any task. We’ve been waiting our entire lives to fulfill our families destiny. That Sir Fallstorm fell to the Sacred Blood has been a stain on our families’ honor.”

  Azina turned to Blair. “I don’t know they look kind of soft. What do you think?”

  Blair shrugged. “I’m inclined to believe their story. What about you Sir Chestmire?”

  Allan grinned. “I think it is appropriate that your forefathers served the Fallstorm family. If you are to serve Lyric you must travel to Fallstorm estate, prepare and hold it for your master.”

  Tripp Hayes returned Allan’s grin. “That’s it? You want us to hold Fallstorm estate? Why does that sound too easy?”

  “It should be easy for mighty Daxrah warriors,” said Azina. “Those mountains are full of wolves, bears, corca cats, and other vicious creatures. No humans have lived there in a century. Not to mention the work it will take to repair the property, if it still even stands.”

  “We’re not afraid of demanding work, nor are we afraid of man or beast. It would be an honor to rebuild Fallstorm,” said Tripp Hayes.

  Allan nodded. “Be at Redfall Estate tomorrow morning. Bring all your gear.”

  22

  The sun was starting to fade when Allan looked over at Izzy. They’d been riding all day, but she looked as fresh and composed as she had at morning’s first light. Izzy might be a noble lady, but she had endurance. “We should make camp soon. It won’t be long before the sun is gone.”

  Izzy nodded. “There is a creek ahead, and we are only a few miles from the coast now. We should go on until we reach the creek then find a defensible position. These are wild lands.”

  As Izzy had promised, they reached the creek within twenty minutes, and as she’d mentioned they could now see the sea. Allan found a place where a storm had knocked down several trees, creating a natural barrier on two sides. He turned to the men. “Water your horses, fill your canteens then set up camp. Picket the horses where they can feed. We’ll bring them into the camp later.”

  After helping Izzy down from her horse, an unnecessary gesture, but one he hoped she’d appreciate, Allan took a sip from the creek. The water was cool, crisp and tasted wonderful. “This creek, does it go anywhere near the castle?”

  Izzy scooped a mouthful of water into her hand and drank. “Yes, there’s a small lake near the castle. But I don’t know if I’d call Fallstorm a castle. You’ll see what I mean when we get there.”

  “When were you last there?” asked Allan.

  “Three years ago,” said Izzy. “My brother likes to visit all parts of our lands, even the ones that we don’t use. This valley and the mountain don’t get visited often. They’re dangerous and no one lives here, but we still come. I like coming here. The wildness of it intrigues me. The area around Fallstorm is beautiful. You can see up and down the coast and even see Partha in the distance on a clear day.”

  After the horses drank their fill, Allan picketed them on a patch of grass with the horses of the would be Daxrah and the two pack horses. Allan turned to the men. “Which of you is the best cook?”

  Tripp nodded his head towards his lanky companion. “Carvel used to work in a bakery in Wilmborne.”

  Allan raised an eyebrow. “You were a cook?”

  Carvel nodded. “Yes, sir. A man needs to eat. And being a cook in a bakery gave me afternoons for training.”

  “What about the rest of you?” asked Allan.

  “I worked in a blacksmith shop,” said Marsden.

  That didn’t surprise Allan in the least. Marsden’s wide shoulders and powerful hands had the look of someone used to using them for work. “And you two?” he asked the twins.

  “Soldiers of fortune,” said Tripp. “We fought for the Mykoznian army against Creyta, and spent some time in Western Partha. Once the rumors of dragons returning started we returned to Droll. We had hoped a dragonblood would appear here, and when we heard of the tournament we knew it had happened.”

  “What more can you tell me of the Daxrah?”

  “Daxrah are the protectors of dragonbloods. Each dragonblood would have its own unit. Some had more than others. In Partha some of the Daxrah units pledged loyalty to the kings who replaced the dragonblood rulers who were defeated during the great war. Others faded into nothing, while others passed the knowledge down. The Fallstorm Daxrah were not a large unit. Sir Fallstorm wasn’t a powerful lord like others. He was reclusive, he wanted to live in peace, but the war came to him.”

  “How many more Daxrah will come to Middale looking for Lyric?” asked Izzy.

  Tripp shrugged. “A handful. We know a few but they are spread around Droll and it might take them a while to get here, but they will come. And others will come too. The Daxrah aren’t the only ones who thrived under the watch of dragons. Many more will come to serve the dragonblood.”

  Izzy frowned. “That could be good or bad. Lyric isn’t wealthy. He cannot support a large community here. Feeding a large number of people will be tricky. The mountains aren’t a prolific source of food, and Fallstorm isn’t designed for a large population.”

  “When Lyric returns, he can decide how to tackle that issue, but in the meantime people can join our fort in the valley. There is plenty of work to be done and they could grow food for the castle.”

  “They would be safer in the valley, and that way we could keep Fallstorm secret as long as possible.”

  “That is a wise decision,” said Tripp. “The Sacred Blood are known for their ability to infiltrate. They would surely send people claiming to want to support the dragonblood.”

  Allan sighed. Between the king, and Lord Falbran there was already plenty to worry about, now the Sacred Blood would add another threat to be considered. “That settles it. Only those vetted carefully will be allowed to travel to Fallstorm. The rest can join my people in the valley. I know my people and trust them. They’ll help keep an eye out on any newcomers.”

  “A wise decision,” said Marsden.

  “Carvel, let’s test those cooking skills of yours. We should eat and get some sleep. We’ll be taking turns on watch tonight. Tomorrow we’ll be at Fallstorm.”

  The dinner had been good. Pan bread and fried vegetables. Allan knew the men wouldn’t starve if Carvel was cooking. As Allan stood at the opening to their makeshift fort, he heard someone coming up from behind him. He tu
rned his head slightly and smiled into the dark. “Hello Izzy, couldn’t sleep?”

  Izzy laughed. “How did you know it was me?”

  “You have a lighter step then any of the men. And you smell of vanilla and jasmine.”

  “Impressive, you have a talent” said Izzy as she stood beside him and looked up at the moons.

  Allan shrugged. “I have spent time on guard duty before. You learn to listen.”

  “A beautiful night. Have you heard anything?”

  “Wolves have checked us out, but they won’t attack.”

  “Wolves are the least of the creatures to worry about,” said Izzy. “Have you ever dealt with corca cats before?”

  “No. But I’ve fought vraber before. I’m told they are similar.”

  “Perhaps,” said Izzy. “I’ve never seen a vraber. The trick with corca cats is to never turn your back on one. They are sneaky. They’ll bait you while others work their way behind you. And if you see one in your peripheral sight the attack is probably coming from the other side. They are smart and vicious pack animals. And they are tough to kill.”

  “They sound lovely. Any other beasts we need to be worried about?”

  “Trolls. They don’t come down out of the mountains, but last time we were here we stopped troll tracks at Fallstorm. They tend to stick to the high mountains but they will come down to the lake. There are other creatures up here too, but those are the ones I know. There is a reason we don’t come here often.”

  “I’m not sure what’s worse, the prospect of fighting with monsters up in the mountains or returning to Redfall and dealing with a civil war.”

  “I’d take the mountains. At least you know who your enemies are,” said Izzy.

  Allan couldn’t argue with that. The idea of a war was troubling. King Gramalt was not a good king, but neither was Lord Falbran. And during a war the people who suffered the most were the innocent. But regardless of how that turned out there was still the Sacred Blood to worry about. Izzy was right, the mountains were safer.

  …

  Fallstorm was like nothing Allan had ever seen. It wasn’t a castle at all, but a series of small stone buildings set in a large circle around a second circle of builds that surrounded one big stone dome with a half roof, with a sturdy outer wall surrounding everything. The inner circle of buildings was much bigger than the outer ring and there were only four of them but between the four were several roofed open areas that looked like they might’ve been eating areas and training areas. Their roofs were not stone and there were holes in all the shingled roofs and several of the stone buildings had a stone or two missing, but other than a thick layer of moss and dust, all were in relatively good shape.

  “It is just like the stories,” said Tripp with a grin as he rode up beside Allan and Izzy.

  “Why was it built like this? Do the stories tell you?” asked Izzy.

  Tripp nodded and pointed to the large dome. “That is where Sir Fallstorm’s dragon would sleep when it was here. It had another home higher up in the mountains as well. The four buildings around it were for Sir Fallstorm. One was his home. The others were for visitors and the staff. The outer buildings were the homes of the Daxrah. Each had their own stone hut and every night they would take turns on watch. Each would sit on his hut and watch the trail. Those with huts on the fall side would watch the mountain valley behind them. It is very difficult to come to here from the backside, but it isn’t impossible.”

  Allan looked around. It was an isolated place, difficult to reach and the only trail was long and windy, easily protected from above. Anyone at the stone fortress would see enemies coming for miles and archers could easily strike a sizable portion of the trail. And from the top of the huts a man could look down over the thick outer wall. It was a highly defensible position. “Was Sir Fallstorm here when the Sacred Blood killed him?”

  “No. He died in Partha. This place was defended by the Daxrah, but Sir Fallstorm went to help the other dragonbloods.”

  “That explains why his Daxrah lived to have offspring,” said Allan.

  “Yes,” said Tripp. “It was a difficult decision for the Fallstorm Daxrah to disband, but when the dragons left they knew that they had to plan for the future. They knew one day dragons would return and dragonbloods would again need their protection.”

  Allan nodded. “They were right about the return of dragons. Let’s just hope you get the chance to defend your dragonblood.”

  Tripp smiled. “Dragonbloods are not so easy to kill. I’m sure we will get our chance.”

  23

  It wasn’t a sound, or a smell, but something was bothering him. “There is something dangerous out there following us,” said Lyric.

  Celine looked around nervously. “That is not good. I can’t see or hear anything. Can you tell what it is?”

  Lyric shook his head. “No. I can just feel it. I know it’s dangerous.”

  “That is your dragon senses. Aunt Azina told me that this could happen. We should trust your sense. We should run, maybe whatever is out there isn’t hunting and getting far away from it will be enough.”

  “Give me your backpack,” said Lyric.

  “You can’t run with both packs,” said Celine.

  “Sure I can. I just need to tie them together.” Lyric quickly tied the two packs together so he had a shoulder strap from each pack. He slipped the combined packs on his back. They were bulky and awkward, but the weight didn’t bother him. Grabbing his staff, he looked to Celine. “Ready?”

  Celine smiled. “As ready as I will ever be. I hate running. But I hate monsters more, so let’s go. Keep heading west through the forest, eventually we’ll start climbing the next mountain slope. Hopefully we’ve lost whatever you are sensing by then.”

  Lyric looked up. They had miles and miles of forest to go and the mountain they were headed towards had a long and gentle slope. They would be running a long way before the mountains provided any help. And depending on what was behind them, it might be none at all. “After you.”

  Celine shook her head. “You just want to stare at my ass while I run.”

  Lyric laughed. Celine hadn’t lost her sense of humor despite the approaching danger. “Maybe, but I have more endurance that you. Just run as best you can.”

  “I said I hated running, not that I wasn’t good at it. Even with your dragon magic you’ll have a tough time keeping up,” said Celine as she took off running.

  Lyric stood for a moment to appreciate her bottom. It was worth staring at even if it meant she got a head start. He then started to jog, letting Celine create some distance between them. With the packs on his back he couldn’t dodge through trees the way she could. He needed to plan his path carefully. Luckily, Celine seemed to have taken that into consideration and her path was easy to follow.

  They ran for several miles. Lyric was impressed by how long Celine could keep up the pace. She was right, she was a good runner. There was no way he could’ve kept up if he didn’t have dragon magic enhanced strength and endurance. Then Lyric caught a scent in the air. Something was upwind from them. He ignored the scent. It was still weak enough that he knew it was far off. They continued to run, but as they went farther, Lyric noticed a shadow in the trees. Something was running along with them off to his right. It wasn’t the creature he’d smelled, that one was to his left. And there was still something behind them.

  “Is it still behind us?” asked Celine as Lyric ran faster to close the distance between them.

  “Yes. But now there is more.” Lyric could sense multiple creatures out there, and something else. There was another creature he could sense, but this one different feel like a danger. Lyric ignored that one and focused on the ones his mind was saying were dangerous.

  “Corca cats. It must be corca cats. This is bad. We can’t outrun corca cats. We need to find a place where we can defend ourselves.”

  Lyric looked around as they ran. They were just starting to climb the mountain slope, but they were still
in a heavily wooded area. There didn’t seem to be a lot of great options. But then he spotted a large outcropping of rock over twenty feet high with a ledge on one side where a huge chunk had broken off and been pushed away or slid down the slope. The ledge dipped into the rock creating a covered area. It wasn’t quite a cave, but it would give them a solid rock wall to have behind them. “Over there. Head for the rocks.”

  When they reached the rocks, Celine was leaned over breathing heavy. “Did I mention how I hate running?”

  Lyric put the packs in the little alcove of the rock ledge. He looked around. The alcove was a recession of about four feet deep and six feet wide. And the substantial chunk of rock that had broken off was about ten feet from them. It gave them a narrow corridor to protect against the corca cats. The downside was there would be no escape now. They were boxed in. But at least they had the rock alcove behind them. Fighting the cats out in the open would be far harder.

  When the first corca cat walked towards them, Lyric gulped. “Are you sure you don’t like running?”

  Celine stood up. She pulled her dagger out and took a defensive position. “Mother of dung beetles.”

  The corca cat reminded Lyric of the cats of Winport. Except instead of being little and soft and friendly they were huge. Bigger than a dog, with thick spiky fur that looked like plate armor on its chest. The eyes were more like those of a lizard than a cat. “Nice kitty,” said Lyric as the beast moved closer.

  The cat responded by baring its teeth and growling. Its teeth were huge and its growl was deep and intimidating.

  “Nice kitty? Are you trying to make a friend? You want to go pet the pretty kitty?” asked Celine.

  Lyric shrugged. “I was hoping maybe it was friendly.” He gripped his staff tighter. The weapon had served him well during the tournament, but how would it do in the real word? Would the staff even hurt the cats? He certainly hoped it would prove to be more than a toothpick for the cats to use to clean their teeth with after eating them.