How to Kill a Dragon (Heir of Dragons Book 1)

by J. A. Culican

  “Not yet!” shouted her father. “You will fire on my mark, and on my mark only,” he commanded. “If we fire too soon, we'll only waste the shot.”

  “Will Torrent be among them?” asked Minx. “Will he lead the army?”

  “I'm not sure,” admitted her father. He dispatched his faithful War Eagle, sending the creature high into the skies to do a bit of surveillance. “If he is, then I want every sword and arrow on him the moment he steps through the threshold.”

  “If Torrent is on his way, I'll take him on myself,” uttered Kaleb. “I still owe him for last time.”

  “What are you talking about?” blurted Minx. “He very nearly killed you, Kaleb! We need to be careful around him.”

  “You're right,” he conceded, “but he faced me this way, man-to-man. Let's see how he fares man-to-dragon. His spells could deflect my blows, but can they deflect a fire blast?” He motioned to the other dragons idling with the lancers. “You guys are going to shift and focus on crushing as many grunts as you can. Understand? Let them have it! Chew them to bits, rip them to shreds and burn them to ashes. You're to take out as many as you possibly can. Don't stop until there are none left.”

  The lancers began moving into position. They planned to form a tight phalanx formation, blocking entry into the trade center and thrusting at incoming warriors with their frightful blades. It was hoped that this wall of lances would further slow the incursion of hostiles into the Trade Center. Wuffs who avoided the sting of the lance would be slain by arrows from above, or by the swordsmen in reserve, if they happened to breach the outer defenses.

  The air grew heavy with dread. Minx could feel the plains beyond the Trade Center quivering beneath the feet of the dark legions. They were close now.

  Who would land the first blow? Who would draw first blood?

  She yanked an arrow from her quiver as Kaleb shifted into his dragon form and stepped out of the Trade Center. Climbing onto his back, she nocked the arrow and watched as the other dragons transformed and took flight, circling the grounds in anticipation. The skies darkened as if in anticipation of the battle; a crisp wind streaked past the Pandling forces as they stood at the ready, and many of them, their nerves ratcheted, shivered despite the warmth of the day.

  Minx had been waiting for this day. The wait had seemed to her an eternity. Journeying across the land with Kaleb and Mau, finding herself in one mess after another, she had begun to wonder whether the fateful clash would ever arrive. Now, as Kaleb lumbered on with her on his back, the wait was over. She squinted into the distance, spying untold hordes bearing down on her precious homeland. There were more marchers flooding in from the horizon than she could hope to slay with a hundred full quivers, and she felt almost dizzy at the immensity of their ranks. It's like a dream, she thought absently, clinging to the dragon shifter's scales. Minx knew what it meant to fight in a battle; this, however, was a war.

  Watching the dark army advance, she became host to a wave of panic. Their plans, though well-drawn, could only take them so far. The chaos of battle was likely to throw wrenches into the best of their strategies. We're going to interrupt their ranks and make it easier for the warriors stationed at the bottleneck to take out the stragglers, she reminded herself, watching the other dragons assemble behind Kaleb. But what if they overwhelm us? They have Torrent on their side. If he has something special up his sleeve, he may be able to fight past us and blow through our defenses. And if Kaleb and I go too far—if we get too separated from the others, we're going to be surrounded on every side with no hope of backup...

  It was her father, standing beside one of the archers on the Trade Center walls, who gave the order. His booming voice washed over the waiting combatants as the first wave of hostile warriors drew near. “Prepare for attack!” he shouted, ordering Minx and the dragons forward. Giving the archers a signal with his left hand, he stepped down from the wall and placed one hand on his scabbard. The archers nocked their arrows and took aim.

  A dense mob of Wuff looked to make up the majority of the first wave; they came in all shapes and kinds, with striking variations in fur and armament. This snarling army of well-bred warriors, a mass of bristling fur and sharp teeth, began a mad rush toward the Trade Center, blitzing across the field with tremendous speed. A savage cry rose up amongst them and their weapons were trained on none other than Kaleb and his Fae rider.

  “Here we go...” muttered the dragon shifter.

  That was the last thing Minx heard before the sounds of war completely engulfed her.

  Without conscious thought or effort, instinct kicked in and Minx fell into the eerily calm mind space of a seasoned hunter. Her wandering eye was fixed upon the foremost Wuff, a bulky warrior clad in leather armor and wielding a pair of short swords. His feet pounded against the earth as he led the initial charge, and Minx gauged his advance for only a moment before letting her arrow fly.

  From high above the heads of the rushing Wuffs, the arrow sailed silently into the breast of the leader, felling him instantly. He staggered, eyes wide, and promptly collapsed—but dreadfully, the mob was unfazed at this loss and trampled over him in their maniac rush.

  Within seconds, the mob was upon Kaleb.

  The dragon shifter reared up, majestic wings casting long arcs of shadow as they kicked up dusty gales. The rampaging Wuffs braced themselves against the wind, and those who had arrived within striking distance delivered hasty blows. The sound of hardened steel blades meeting Kaleb's ruby red plates was disorienting to hear, and those foolish enough to strike a dragon with simple weapons were stunned to find their strikes lacked effect.

  Extending one clawed arm, Kaleb swept through their ranks, knocking aside several warriors and batting them into the air like dolls. His talons ripped through their armor, and even those who were not immediately slain by the strike were so violently jostled that they could scarcely sit upright after landing. Arrows flew up from a handful of Wuff archers; these, where they did connect, met only impenetrable scales, and Minx couldn't help feeling a bit amused as she recalled how ineffectual her own arrows had been against the dragon during their bout. You'll need more than arrows, she thought, remaining low between his wings and loading up her next shot.

  Kaleb turned toward the archers, incensed. The great nostrils on the tip of his ruby snout flared, and the air was filled with a sulfurous scent. Hitching forward, he opened his mouth to reveal rows of glistening fangs and unleashed a column of molten flame that struck out against the incoming warriors like a glowing rope. The flame attack consumed everything it touched; it scalded the nearby Wuffs, boiled the air from the lungs of those fortunate enough to avoid the blast, and even seized upon the plains, drawing great sizzling divots in the ground. Cries of pain and fear arose from the warriors; as expected, the survivors scrambled for cover, unable to launch an immediate counterattack.

  But the second wave was already upon them, and the third appeared not far behind.

  The other dragons had taken flight, and Minx watched as they dove out of the sky into clusters of warriors, batting at Krah and Plurn fighters mixed in with the next waves. Each dragon touched down a fair distance from the last, allowing for maximum disruption of successive mobs, but those that foresaw their attacks, or survived them, kept rushing toward Minx and Kaleb—and toward the Trading Center.

  Kaleb's talons caught a Wuff swordsman and his tail crushed a handful of stragglers with all the fury of a rockslide, but reinforcements from the second and third waves had closed the gap and now flooded in with clouds of arrows.

  It was all Minx could do to keep her head low and avoid getting pierced. Dozens of arrows cut through the air, some bouncing off of Kaleb's scales, others flying far from their mark and accidentally striking retreating Wuffs. Still other shots threatened to find a home in Minx, and she pressed herself against the dragon's back, waiting for the flow of arrows to subside. When it did, she stood, a fresh shot nocked. She prepared to send another volley forth, and looked about Kaleb's
sides for a choice target.

  She was unprepared for what she found, however.

  Somehow, in the space of a few instants, the scenery had completely changed.

  Everywhere she looked, there were now more Wuffs than bare ground. She and Kaleb were being swarmed from every direction; swordsmen were descending upon the dragon's legs in search of weak spots and archers were loading up fresh waves of arrows. She could hardly see the other dragons in the distance, who were similarly surrounded, and glancing back at the entrance to the Trade Center, she noticed—with horror—that a sizable force had bypassed the two of them and was on its way to breach the gate.

  Minx's arms faltered. It didn't matter whether she fired her bow, whether she killed one, or even a dozen of these warriors. For every one she killed, there seemed to be a hundred more waiting in the wings. She felt like a piece of food seized by a colony of ravenous insects; Kaleb's attacks and thrashings could kill them by the score, but eventually, they would be overwhelmed; it was a rule of nature.

  She launched a series of arrows, sniping a few Krah whose hammers had been trained on Kaleb's legs, but had to drop to her knees to avoid another flurry of arrows from below. We need backup... we're completely surrounded! We can't fight our way out of this—not just the two of us!

  Loading another arrow, Minx studied the mob, looking for a higher value target. She found, instead, warriors the likes of which she'd never seen. There were brutish, ape-like spearmen’s in the lot, as well as serpentine swordsmen and tusked marauders armed with exotic flail weapons. She had been prepared to fight Wuffs, Plurn and Krah—but never before had she glimpsed such odd and terrifying species as these. The enemy's ranks swelled with strange warriors of this very kind; a nightmarish horde of beast-men who screamed and raged in grating tongues.

  “Kaleb!” she cried, clinging to him. “We need to fall back. We need to make sure they don't overtake the gate!”

  The dragon shifter seemed to agree with this idea, but before he could take a step back, the mob pushed in further, the combined force of countless hands and weapons driving him to the right with a groan. In a white-hot rage, Kaleb turned and launched a fireball into the sea of warriors. Dozens were immolated by the knot of glowing flame, but those on the dragon's other side picked up the slack, hacking at his legs and loosing arrow after arrow.

  Very soon, he would be overcome—and Minx along with him.

  “W-We've got to pull back!” she cried.

  From the crowd there came ropes and chains. These, fired on the ends of arrows or hooks, were fastened around Kaleb's limbs and wings—and the might of many pulled on each length, forcing the dragon lower, till his belly nearly touched the singed ground. It was no small feat to overpower a dragon—and Kaleb thrashed, knocking many of the rope-pullers off their feet. But when they fell, others took their place, and being pulled viciously from every direction, Kaleb was brought very quickly to yield.

  Minx tried hacking at the ropes within her reach, slicing at the thick cords with her dagger, but failed to sever them in time. Already, warriors were attempting to climb onto Kaleb, and so she focused instead on dispatching them as quickly as she could. A Krah was thrown from Kaleb's back as Minx blasted him in the abdomen, and a longsword-wielding Wuff was kicked to the ground before he could even find his bearings on the dragon's back.

  Her heart stamped against her sternum. Minx looked about the field, hoping for reinforcements.

  No one was coming, however.

  No one, that is, except for more members of the dark army.

  Chapter 23

  The only solution available to them was the riskiest one.

  Bound by several lengths of rope and chain, Kaleb did the only thing he could think of to free himself. He suddenly returned to his human form, sending the surrounding throngs of warriors to the ground as the ropes went instantly slack. Minx rolled onto the ground behind him and watched as he quickly shrugged off his constraints.

  This move had freed Kaleb, but relief was fleeting.

  They were now completely surrounded, just the two of them, by countless bloodthirsty warriors.

  Kaleb wasted no time, knocking aside several incoming swordsmen with a thrust of his arm while the others within reach struggled to regain their feet. “We'll fall back,” he shouted to Minx, remaining close to her, “if we can fight our way to the gate, that is!”

  Desperate to survive, Minx funneled the arrows out of her quiver two at a time and sent them into any waiting body that would have them. She unleashed a flurry against the rushing warriors that sprinted up from Kaleb's blind spots and—when they pressed in too closely for her bow—dispatched them by hand when necessary.

  Cries arose to her back as several Wuff swordsmen were knocked to the ground, one after another. Sprinting like a streak of lightning through the mass of warriors headed toward the Trading Center was Mau. The Faelyr snarled and clawed her way past numberless fighters, her fur standing on end as though charged with electricity. There you are! said the Faelyr at meeting Minx's gaze. You two weren't doing a very good job of keeping these goons from the Trading Center, so I thought I'd lend you a hand.

  Minx launched a fresh arrow into a rampaging Plurn, grinning. You came at a good time. There are more of them here than we know what to do with. Noting the encroachment of still more warriors, she loaded up another shot and availed herself of the arrows from the quiver of a fallen Wuff, replenishing her own dwindling stock.

  Kaleb roared as he batted his way through the mass of dark warriors; his pillar-like arms crunched bone and flesh as he struck at those brave enough to close in on him. Mau clung to him, seizing upon the archers that threatened to strike him from afar—the Faelyr's great speed more than compensated for Kaleb's lack.

  Minx continued to back away from the advancing forces, littering the field with new arrows as she went. The trio had taken down so many warriors in their return to the Trading Center that newcomers approached with a good deal more caution, despite their overwhelming numbers. She turned to Kaleb, watching him batter a pair of Krah with his mighty fists. “Quickly!” she called out, “can you shift? Carry us back to the gate?”

  Having created a clearing in the mob with his violent outbursts, Kaleb wiped the sweat and grime from his brow and nodded. “Sure, let's do it.” He closed his eyes and prepared to take on his dragon form.

  But nothing happened.

  Kaleb blinked hard, looking down at his hands with confusion. Teeth grit, he made another effort to shift. He widened his stance and exhaled slowly—and ordinarily, he would have transformed into the winged red titan. Once more, nothing happened, however. “Something's wrong,” he spat, grasping the arm of a handsy Wuff and throwing him back into the throng. “I... I can't shift, Minx. Something's wrong.”

  He can't shift? Why not? Such a thing seemed inconceivable to the Fae huntress as she rattled off another shot. A chill ran down her spine as the advancing forces closed in more tightly. “What's wrong? Has this ever happened before?”

  Kaleb only shook his head, fists balled.

  Something caught Minx's eye as she scanned the crowd, seeking the best home for her next arrow. From within the grouping just ahead of her, there issued a deep bluish glow. One among the warriors was armed with a small, round shield, into which had been mounted a dome-like blue gem. Minx knew the look of that stone, was familiar with its glow—it was made of the same stuff as her dragon hunting bracelets, and it appeared to react violently at Kaleb's presence. As the warriors fanned out, plotting their attacks against Minx and Mau, the Fae huntress got a look at the one wielding the shield.

  And her heart skipped a beat as she did so.

  The owner of the shield was none other than Valry. The Wuff vixen stood tall, with the shield held in one hand and a razor-sharp longsword in the other. She was headed straight for Kaleb, and the intensity in her gaze as she strode through the mass of warriors bespoke savage intent. She's going to attack Kaleb, Minx realized. And that strange shield..
. is that the problem? Is it interfering with Kaleb's ability to shift? The small stones that had been in her bracelets had always reacted to the presence of dragons, but they had never—to her knowledge—interfered with their abilities. A magical stone of this size, however, was likely much more powerful, and in the hands of a skilled caster, would have many uses.

  Minx nocked another arrow and sent it straight for Valry without a moment's hesitation. The shot careened through the knot of warriors, missing many of them by mere inches, before striking the bluish gem on Valry's shield with a resonating crash. The vixen halted at once, her narrow eyes widening in furious anger, and she turned to find Minx readying another blast—this one destined for her skull.

  Valry changed course, singling out the Fae huntress and pushing through her allies with a savage grunt. “Well, if it isn't a Fae. They stuck you out on the fringes, did they? Big mistake.”

  Minx sent her arrow flying, and watched with annoyance as it was blocked by the shield. “Valry of the Wuff!” she called out, taking aim yet again. “I challenge you to single battle—one-on-one. Do you accept?”

  At this, the vixen stopped, giving her whitish mane an insouciant toss. “Single battle? Who do you think you are?” She chuckled darkly. “Who do you think I am? Do you honestly believe I would lower myself—condescend to battle you, exclusively?”

  “I'll kill you either way,” declared Minx, “I'd just prefer it if everyone here got to watch.” Her bow tensed as she drew it back. “Do you accept?”

  Valry held out the tip of her sword with a grimace. “What are your terms? What do I get, once I've slain you like the mouthy animal you are—aside from great satisfaction?”