King Of Souls (Book 2)

by Matthew Ballard

  “No!” Danielle leaped forward and pushed against the boulder, but she couldn’t budge it.

  “Help her!” Denny said as he threw aside the longbow and joined Danielle driving his shoulder into the boulder.

  Sir Alcott stood and stumbled over to Jeremy kneeling near the knight’s face.

  “I can’t feel anything Sir Alcott,” Jeremy said, his voice trembling.

  Sir Alcott tightened his jaw and laid his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Stay awake lad. Do you hear me! Don’t you go to sleep!”

  Outside the broken tower, dragons rained fire across the palace’s outer walls.

  “We’ll help you m’lady!” The Ayralen teenager said moving in beside Denny and the barrel-chested Meranthian man.

  The men grunted straining to lift the heavy stone from Jeremy’s legs, and it creaked forward an inch.

  Jeremy screamed, his face warped in agony. “Please…” His husky voice shook with desperation.

  Danielle’s limbs felt like limp biscuits as she pushed on the enormous boulder. She glanced over her shoulder and icy fear clawed her back.

  Dragons sent a blaze of fire through the palace windows igniting the floor beneath Ronan’s quarters. “Move back!” Her voice betrayed the bottled rage that threatened to spin her out control.

  The men leaped away as Danielle shifted into a monstrous ice bear barely able to fit inside the cramped room. She roared as a month’s worth of frustration and setbacks spilled from her core. She wedged her shoulder under the stone and tossed it forward freeing Jeremy’s legs.

  The boulder teetered to a stop blocking the stairway as Jeremy screamed a second time his face wracked in agony.

  Danielle shifted into her human form. “Fix him Alcott!”

  Dragon roars washed over the courtyard. They swarmed the palace like a pack of wild jackals fighting over the last shred of raw meat. Fire and streaks of unchecked lightning filled the air like some macabre summer light show.

  “I’ve healed men all along this tower Danielle. I’ll do what I can, but I’m drained.” White mist drifted from Sir Alcott’s hand before seeping into Jeremy’s open mouth and nose.

  Jeremy’s rigid posture eased, his eyes slipped shut, and he drifted into a deep sleep. But, his legs remained mangled and useless.

  Sir Alcott stooped before dropping to his hands and knees. His eyes closed and his breaths came in short haggard pulls while he flirted with the edge of consciousness. “I’ve stabilized his back and eased his pain. For now, it’s all I can give him.”

  Danielle’s thoughts shifted to Trace, flying above Freehold gloating and content. He stood on the brink of achieving his every goal. He’d leveled her beloved country, murdered her father, and now threatened her brother’s life. Rage, white and hot, flashed behind her eyes and power bubbled upward seeping through her skin as if begging for release.

  The tower’s defenders froze and stared at Danielle as if a strange alien presence had taken command of her senses.

  Rivulets of unchecked green energy warped from Danielle’s skin flashing in wild directions. Tangles of green vines grew beneath her feet. They lifted her a dozen feet off the floor until she settled on the jagged stone lip of the tower’s wrecked frame.

  Dragons swarmed the palace grounds coming from every direction. Three hammered the palace rooftop and ten swooped over the dug-in ice trenches. Still, a half-dozen more roasted defenders fighting from the guard towers.

  Danielle’s mind shifted entering a place of deep primacy. A place her conscious mind had never visited. A place birthed of nature’s power and raw brutality. She pulled on an ocean of unchecked energy. Dark green rivulets of energy streamed across the palace grounds like a river current cresting its banks. She sought out anything she might use as a weapon.

  A grim smile twisted her lips, and she bellowed with a voice rising from deep inside the earth’s core. She found her tools buried inside the courtyard’s snow-covered garden. She found more growing along the palace’s outer walls.

  Fledgling pines, planted last fall at her brother’s urging, beckoned for Danielle’s attention.

  The baby trees greeted Danielle’s mind like long lost children. They called to her as if she’d finally woken from a century’s deep slumber. She pulled on primal power bursting from her mind like a spring flood and channeled it into the pines giving them what they sought.

  Thirty pine trees shattered their snow blanket growing at rates staggering to any watching. They stopped after reaching heights approaching one hundred feet tall. Long branches canvassed the palace grounds. The surrounding buildings stood dwarfed by an incredible array of pine trees. The sharp tang of pine resin as thick as a mountain forest filled the crisp morning air.

  The dragons paused their attack. They craned their long necks skyward gawking at the towering pines. Confused looks passed between their sorcerer handlers.

  The dragons flew high among the treetops lashing their tails at long widespread branches. Every remaining dragon drifted through the pine forest searching the trees for hidden enemies.

  Danielle felt no pity for her despicable act to come. They’d showed no mercy and deserved none in return. She closed her eyes and stretched out her mind seeking the tree’s thick roots. She found each pine’s entry point and sent nature energy racing up tree trunks. Danielle didn't stop until she’d touched every swaying pine in the majestic forest.

  A dragon roared, and fire leaped from its throat igniting the nearest treetop in orange flame.

  Calm settled over Danielle’s thoughts as time slowed. She opened her eyes and raised her arms skyward.

  Dark green energy arced between Danielle’s open palms. She screamed a roar so primal the earth beneath the palace district shook. She smashed her palms together compressing the raw energy into a combustible force.

  The pine tree’s rattled and the earth groaned. Dragons scrambled to fly free, but the forest had different ideas. Limbs shifted and grew stretching toward wings, legs, and long pliable necks. The trees locked down both dragon and rider.

  The sorcerers beat the dragons with glowing command rods, but they no longer controlled their own destiny.

  Danielle’s faze froze in concentration as every pine tree exploded.

  A forest’s worth of wood, resin, and pine needles hurtled outward at mind-numbing speeds. In an instant, death found both dragon and rider.

  The forest disappeared swallowing the invaders under a shower of jagged splinters and sticky pine resin. Freehold’s sky fell silent. Pine needles fluttered downward burying bite-sized pieces of bone and flesh under a blanket of pine.

  Danielle’s body went numb as exhaustion overcame her body. Behind her, she felt the tower defenders’ strong hands catch her as she teetered.

  Atop the tower’s twisted wreckage, Sir Alcott appeared scooping Danielle into his arms. Buoyed by the surrounding men he descended before easing Danielle to the wooden floor.

  Outside, cheers erupted from those lining the street. Archers slid back half-charred boards still covering the ice trenches. Jubilant roars filled the streets and courtyard as Freehold’s citizens celebrated victory.

  Danielle’s teeth chattered as she pulled her cloak tight around her body. A bone-deep chill spread through her limbs despite her layers of thick wool and the day’s brilliant sunshine.

  Sir Alcott stripped his cloak free and covered Danielle. His face showed none of the joy expected by a man who’d just helped save his country from a foreign invader. He’d celebrate a given day’s five o’clock hour like discovering a long lost friend. But now, his expression appeared sour and muted.

  “Why aren’t you celebrating?” Danielle’s teeth chattered as she tucked Sir Alcott’s cloak around her shoulders.

  Sir Alcott shook his head. “I didn’t see Trace among them.”

  “He’s a coward.” Danielle said.

  “No. I don’t think that’s it.” Sir Alcott’s gaze drifted over Freehold’s northern wall. “Those dragons weren’t carrying
any shaman.”

  “What are you implying Alcott?” Danielle said.

  Sir Alcott’s face appeared haggard as if he’d aged ten years in the last half-hour. “I think we repelled the first wave. A test of our defenses. He’s holding off his main force.”

  Danielle’s mouth fell open, and she stared speechless into Sir Alcott’s face.

  As if in response, a dragon’s distant roar echoed from the northern hills surrounding Kipley’s Vale.

  ***

  As the sun dipped below Freehold’s city wall, dark shadows cast a sullen gloom over the palace courtyard.

  Rika peered through the bay window’s cracked glass and scanned the district’s littered streets.

  A muscled Ayralen man, his arm adorned with an intricate weave of tattoos, lifted a little boy’s lifeless body from the snow. He handed the child to a squat Meranthian man standing atop a wagon converted into a sleigh. The Meranthian man settled the boy beside a row of bodies covered in plain white sheets. From a dwindling pile near his feet, he pulled free a fresh sheet and laid it atop the boy’s body covering him from head to toe. Grim-faced, the Meranthian man turned back to his Ayralen partner and waited to receive the next corpse in line.

  Rika slid closed the red and gold brocade drapes and covered the horrific scene from view. She hung her head and fought back tears.

  Somewhere in Freehold tonight, a parent grieved for that little boy. They experienced pain no amount of magic could ever heal. A life altering pain reserved for the child’s parents who had filled his life with fresh hopes and bold dreams. Parents wanting for him a future filled with joy and happiness. An unquenchable, unbearable pain she could just now begin to understand.

  Life had cheated Rika of many precious moments. Her own mother’s illness and death in her tenth year of life had left her devastated. Two years later, when Kelwin left for Lora’s Guard, her heart had broken again.

  The last blow came from Rika’s father who’d uprooted her from her Ayralen home. They had moved to Meranthia destroying her last semblance of a normal life.

  Ronan lay motionless in his broad four-post bed buried beneath a small mountain of blankets.

  Rika moved across the room and stopped beside him. A raw ache tightened her chest, and warm tears welled in her eyes. Would their child begin his life without a father?

  Rika missed the small, one-room home she and Ronan had made together in Freehold’s Ayralen District. She missed those simpler times despite the anger driving Ronan’s actions. Circumstances had pulled them together, and they’d forged a new life. From the first day, Ronan’s love for her had never wavered. Why hadn’t she told him that she loved him every single one of those days?

  Of course, Rika knew how much Ronan loved her. Every day, she saw it in his eyes, but she couldn’t endure losing him. She’d lost too much, so she’d closed her heart unwilling to let him get close.

  A slight smile touched Rika’s lips. She could no more stop loving Ronan than she could prevent the morning sunrise.

  Rika wiped away the tears and rolled the wooden chess piece between her fingertips. She’d finished whittling it, a king in his image, not an hour earlier. She set the piece on Ronan’s bedside table next to the golden dragon statuette.

  Rika stood over him with her hand resting atop her womb. Despite what Moira had told her, she felt nothing, but she believed the old woman’s words all the same.

  Rika sat perched on Ronan’s bed and tucked a quilt his mother had made him beneath his chin. She leaned over and kissed his lips relieved to find them warm and soft. “I love you Ronan Latimer. Always have. Always will.”

  Rika looked on his sleeping face through bleary eyes. She wanted Ronan to take her away. They could find someplace safe and warm where they could live free and happy, but she couldn’t do that to him. She didn’t want to add more weight to the burdens already loading him down.

  Rika’s voice trembled. “Please come back. I —,” she paused breaking off her words as her chin quivered. “We…need you.” She curled up on the bed beside him and laid her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat slow and steady.

  A dragon’s distant roar rattled the dragon statuette and the wooden chess piece sitting on the bedside table.

  A sharp chill crawled across Rika’s flesh. Visions of dragons pounding the palace walls danced through her mind. She’d already decided to stay by Ronan’s side even if the building collapsed around her.

  A heavy creaking noise came from Ronan’s door, and Rika pushed up reaching for the knife sheathed around her thigh.

  The bedroom door cracked open spilling warm lamplight from the corridor outside. No one appeared through the opening.

  Rika sighed and sheathed her knife. The drafts running through the ancient palace had already pushed the door open twice today. She hopped from the bed, moved across the room, and pushed the door shut until she heard the satisfying click of the door’s brass latch.

  Behind Rika, Ronan’s bedsprings squeaked.

  Rika whirled preparing to shift forms and froze when she realized an intruder had entered the room.

  A shaggy mop of white fur leaped near the foot of Ronan’s bed buzzing across the mountain of quilts covering Ronan. The bear cub stopped near Ronan’s face, and a long pink tongue licked Ronan’s cheek in a line from his jaw to just below his closed eye. Paws appearing three times too big for the bear’s tiny frame, pressed on Ronan’s chest as if to wake him.

  Ronan’s brow narrowed, and his head moved from side to side as if to fend off his attacker’s unwanted advance. “Rika, what’s with the licking?” The mumbled words spilled out slurred and heavy.

  Rika’s breath hitched, and she froze afraid to break the spell or he’d fall asleep again lost to her forever. A tingle of nervous excitement buzzed along her scalp before traveling down her spine and curling her toes. She smiled fighting the urge to jump up and down screaming like a schoolgirl smitten by her first crush. She reached for the brass doorknob, flung it open wide, and leaped into the hallway. “Sir Alcott! Come quick! He’s awake!”

  “Rika?” Ronan’s slurred voice, laced with confusion, came from the room behind Rika. “Why do you sound so far away?”

  Rika spun and dashed into Ronan’s bedroom.

  The bear cub, now standing atop Ronan’s chest, licked him again from chin to nose. He cocked his head and staring at Ronan with wide-eyed anticipation.

  Ronan’s eyes shot open and a throaty, startled shout escaped his open mouth. With panic flaring in his eyes he scanned the room before they settled on Rika.

  “Ronan, it’s okay,” she said using the most soothing tone she could muster.

  Ronan pushed himself up before tossing aside the quilts and blankets. He swung his bare feet over the bed and paused. “What’s happening Rika? How long have I been asleep?”

  Rika hurried toward Ronan and stopped near his outstretched legs. “Slow down Ronan. Let me explain.”

  Ronan’s cheeks blanched, and his eyes lost their focus. He nodded. “I feel a bit woozy. Maybe you’re right.”

  The bear cub scaled the disheveled blankets before settling near Ronan’s side in a fluffy heap.

  Ronan’s hand drifted downward before settling atop the bear cub’s head. He scratched behind his ears and squinted trying to focus his eyes. “Thanks for the wakeup call, boy.”

  Rika eased onto the bed and met his bleary gaze. “You’ve been asleep for nearly three days.”

  “Three days! Rika, I’ve —”

  She held up her hand. “Shush. Let me finish. I swear you’ve no patience at all.”

  Ronan’s cheeks reddened. “Sorry. I’m listening.”

  “You and Thoth crashed into the arena floor after you decided to go after Trace.” She shook her head. “And that was a foolish idea, Ronan. You had no business taking such a chance. What if you’d died?”

  Ronan cast his gaze toward his feet and sighed. “I’m sorry. I acted on instinct, and thought I might catch Trace off his guard. H
ow’s Thoth? Is he…?”

  “He’s not dead,” Rika said. “We’ve tried our best to keep him warm and dry, but he’s not well. He hasn’t moved an inch.”

  “Where’s Danielle?”

  “She’s resting. Three dozen dragons and sorcerers attacked Freehold this morning.”

  Ronan began pushing himself up. “I can’t let her do this alone.”

  Rika shook her head and pushed Ronan down by shoulders using a not so gentle touch. “Sit. Shut up, and listen.”

  Ronan’s lips tightened, but he held his tongue and nodded.

  “Danielle came up with a brilliant plan to defend Freehold, and it worked,” Rika said.

  A wide smile bloomed on Ronan’s face. “Then it’s over? Rika, that’s wonderful.”

  Rika shook her head. “Trace wasn’t among the attackers, and we’ve heard the dragons’ distant roars all-day long. It’s like he’s taunting us.”

  The smile faded from Ronan’s face. “How’s Danielle?”

  “She’s resting. She used an enormous amount of energy fighting the first wave of dragons, but she saved us all.”

  Ronan pushed away the bundled quilts and stood. His gaze drifted downward as if noticing his lack of clothing for the first time. “Where are my clothes Rika? I have a defense to plan.”

  Ronan’s piercing gaze met Rika’s but never wavered. He made no effort to cover himself. Rika didn’t know whether to mourn his lost innocence or take pride in the man he’d become, but the world needed him. She stood and opened a dresser drawer near the bed. “I’m not sure how much defense we can muster. We’ve three working ballista after the initial attack, and there’s been no word from Devery.” She tossed Ronan his missing clothes.

  Ronan slipped on his pants and tunic, picked up his belt from the bedside table, and froze. His eyes narrowed, and his gaze locked on the gold dragon statuette.

  “Ronan, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Rika said.

  Ronan took the dragon statuette in his hand and turned it over, his face a mask of concentration. “Rika, when you found me, did you find another statue near me?”