Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels

by Daniel Arenson

  “No. You protected us. You did as you said you would. But now we can stand on our own again. You must let us be free.”

  “My brother to the east tells me Sophia asked for the fog to remain. Every year she visited him, begging them to maintain the fog. We did as she asked.”

  Sophia? In the fog? Bastian couldn’t help but think of the book Udor had found in the cottage. How much had she known? What had she done?

  “Sophia is gone now too.”

  A tear of sap slipped from the woman’s eye. “She was the last of the originals.”

  “Yes. Now it is time for us to be freed.”

  “Perhaps it is.” The woman stepped from the hollow, vines still connecting her to the tree. She laid a hand on Bastian’s shoulder. “Are you prepared?”

  “Are any of us ever prepared?”

  Her branch-like fingers dug into his skin. “We only wanted to protect you.”

  “You did. You saved countless lives. But now it’s time to let us go.”

  Her jaw dropped. A sound like the rustling of leaves in the height of fall tumbled from her mouth. The trees responded, gaining momentum until it appeared the entire forest was shaking in rhythm.

  He stood still, not sure what he was waiting for.

  The fog began to dissipate. Like a sheet falling from a clothesline in the summer breeze, the fog drifted to the ground. Bastian knew it was gone when the whoops and cheers of his fellow townspeople reached his ears.

  When it was done, she looked at him again. “Now what becomes of me?”

  “Can you leave the tree? You are welcome to come with us.” Bastian looked at the branches, entwined with her own limbs. He’d separate them one by one if he had to. It was the least he could do for her.

  “I am the tree. We live together. We die apart.”

  “Then I swear I shall protect this part of the forest as long as I am alive. And before I die, I will teach others to do the same.” Bastian reached out, caressing the bark.

  Her eyes closed. “That is the first time I have been touched in years.” The leaves sighed along with her. The trees swayed lightly under his strokes. “If only I could live again like I used to. I had forgotten the pleasures that come with flesh.”

  Bastian pulled his hand back. “I am sorry for your imprisonment.”

  She smiled, her teeth stubs of bark. “It is well, human. It is well. Journey on with my blessing. And if you ever need me to protect your village again, I will help. All you need to do is ask. Leave now. Seek your destiny.”

  “Thank you,” Bastian said. He climbed down carefully, reaching the ground quickly. “Those of you with family back in Hutton’s Bridge, head home quickly and let them know the way out. There is a city ahead, but it isn’t friendly to outsiders. You can stay in Hutton’s Bridge, but know that seeking your fortune elsewhere may not result in a happier life. I will forge ahead and look for medicine.”

  He wanted to forget all of it and search for Tressa, but now that the fog was gone, she could find her way easily alone. If she still lived.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  A bell rang in the distance, awakening her from the edge of slumber. Men scrambled out of their beds. Feet fell on the floor, echoing in the room.

  “Get up!” Jarrett yelled at Henry.

  Tressa slipped out of bed, not knowing exactly what was going on. “What is it?”

  “We’re being summoned to Stacia’s side. Something’s wrong.” Jarrett glanced at Henry. He gave the boy a poke in the ribs. “Get up!”

  The other men were putting on their armor, metal clanging on metal, ringing in Tressa’s exhausted ears.

  She pulled her armor from under her bed and tugged it on. She glanced at Henry out of the corner of her eye. He was still human. After transforming in the back alley the night before, Jarrett reassured her he’d change back before the sun rose. They just had to stay with him and protect him until then.

  Every hour or two, she and Jarrett traded sleeping and keeping watch. Just before the sun rose, Henry’s form settled back into the one she’d known since the tournament. They all stumbled back to their quarters, exhausted and ready for the day of rest that had been promised to them.

  Tugging on her gloves, Tressa sighed knowing that rest was far from attainable. The clanging of the bell only became louder, more insistent. Two of the men had already left their quarters, rushing to Stacia’s chambers to relieve the men who’d been there all night. They’d been promised whores on their return, but Tressa had been relived to find they’d all cleared out before morning.

  Horny, grunting men was the last thing she wanted to hear while she’d tried to grab the last few moments of sleep. At least something went the way she wanted it to.

  Henry rubbed his eyes, not eager to get out of bed. After what he’d been through the night before, Tressa felt sorry for him. She didn’t see him as the lazy child she’d taken him for just hours ago. Most children went through a change as they entered adulthood. Many times it lead to them making poor choices or having trysts with others in the back of a barn. For Henry it meant pain. Exhaustion. Confusion.

  She wanted to take the boy in her arms and hold him until the pain went away. Tressa looked up at Jarrett. “He’s not well enough to go.”

  “He must,” Jarrett said. “He’ll cope.” He reached over and pulled the rough woolen blanket off of Henry’s balled up body. “Up, boy. We have a job to do.”

  They were the last to leave the room. Henry dragged listlessly behind Jarrett and Tressa’s insistent tugging.

  The rocky walls blurred by Tressa. She ran as fast as she could without letting go of Henry. He’d finally woken enough to be dragged out of bed. Jarrett had splashed water on Henry’s face and droplets still fell to his armor from his hair. It had been enough, though.

  A determined look swept across his face. He seemed more alert than Tressa had ever seen him, almost making her wonder if she’d imagined his bizarre behavior in the pub the night before.

  Henry tugged his arm back, slipping it easily from Tressa’s grasp. Truth was she hadn’t been trying too hard. He’d never offered resistance. She turned around and glanced at him over her shoulder. Yes, he was definitely more in control than ever.

  “It’s part of the transformation.” Jarrett whispered to her. They couldn’t be too careful in the palace. Ears were everywhere. “He’s a good boy. Strong. He just becomes weaker before, well, you know. I felt it was coming last night, but wasn’t sure. It’s completely unpredictable until he learns to control it.”

  Henry jogged between Jarrett and Tressa, barely a puff of exhaustion on his face. “Sorry I’ve been so childish lately. Sometimes it’s hard to work through the fire pumping in my veins.” He winked at Tressa.

  She stared at him, her mouth gaping. Back erect, muscles flexed, and confidence in his face had changed Henry from a petulant boy to a young man.

  “I’m embarrassed about my behavior during the tournament. I would have much preferred taking a few heads myself. Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling myself that day.”

  It was as if his voice had deepened overnight as well. It wasn’t just the dragon that was changing him. He was rapidly becoming a man.

  “How do we explain this?” Tressa pointed a thumb at Henry. “Until now he was a simpering fool.”

  It was Henry’s turn to drop his jaw. “Was I that bad?” He looked at Jarrett, who shrugged, a smile on his face. Henry turned back to Tressa. “Maybe you can teach me a bit about being a man, seeing as you’re so good at pretending to do it.”

  She looked at him again. Suddenly she felt she was the out of place soldier. Henry’s miraculous recovery from his illness was going to make her stand out even more.

  “She’s going to help us, Henry.” Jarrett placed a hand on Henry’s arm. “Don’t.”

  “I was only kidding,” he said, winking again. It was a gesture Tressa was starting to hate. “You know that, right Max?”

  She nodded. They were close to Stacia’s cham
bers. He’d gotten the last word. It wasn’t over though. She needed Henry and Jarrett to make her plan work. They needed her help because during Henry’s moments of weakness Jarrett needed an ally.

  “What’s going on?” Jarrett asked Kelton at the door.

  “A barrier has been breached,” Kelton said. “She’s furious. Pacing. Stomping. Screaming about war and blood and honey. Isn’t that the oddest thing? Honey?”

  A pit fell in Tressa’s stomach. Honey. Hutton’s Bridge had been famous for its honey before the fog. The barrier that kept them from the rest of the Drowned Country.

  Her hands started to shake. Her people should be safe, still nestled within the fog that had trapped them for eighty years.

  She felt cool steel. A sword. Jarrett had shoved it into her hands, giving them something to do other than tremble. She would thank him later. Now she gripped it tight, letting the hardness toughen up her fears.

  “What does she need us to do?” Jarrett asked. “Is there an imminent danger?”

  Kelton shook his head. “No. We ride out as soon as the horses are ready. We have a battle ahead of us, men.”

  Henry slapped his fist to his chest. “Finally, a real fight. I can’t wait to smell blood.” His tongue slipped out and ran over his lips.

  Kelton raised an eyebrow. “You’re feeling better, boy.”

  “Yes, I am. I feel like conquering the world. This is a great place to start.” Henry slung an arm around Kelton’s shoulder. They walked into Stacia’s antechamber together.

  Tressa watched them saunter away. As soon as they were out of earshot, she leaned over and whispered to Jarrett. “You trust Henry?”

  Jarrett wouldn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he kept his focus on Henry’s retreating form. “I have to.” He lowered his voice. “The truth?”

  Tressa nodded. Finally she’d learn the whole story.

  “My queen of the Yellow Throne demands her second son take the Blue Throne from Stacia or be banished forever without water or a camel. I am his only guard. My life is his.”

  Then hers was too. He knew her secret and could expose her at any moment. “Let’s get this skirmish settled and then we strike the queen.”

  “Agreed.” Jarrett drew his own sword. “The boy should be able to control his form soon. He will be ready to rule as soon as he does.”

  Tressa felt there were more qualifications for being a ruler than turning into a dragon, but it wasn’t time to argue. She had to know who they were marching against and why.

  Tressa and Jarrett followed the men into Stacia’s chambers. She sat in her throne, one blue leather clad leg hanging over the arm, a spike-heeled boot swinging in the air.

  “Close the door!” She shouted to Tressa. “I don’t need anyone else hearing this. No need to cause a panic just yet.”

  The door slammed shut with a thud. Tressa turned around. She had a feeling she might need some extra support.

  Kelton bowed at Stacia’s feet. “How can we serve you, my queen?”

  Stacia’s blue eyes narrowed. She gazed at each of them in turn, as if she were weighing their very souls. Tressa forced herself to breathe normally. In. Out. Evenly. She would let nothing give her away. Stacia’s eyes lingered longest, not on Tressa, but on Jarrett. The side of her mouth curved up.

  “Each of you has sworn to protect me. For many years now we’ve lived in peace in the Drowned Country, thanks to the fog surrounding the ghost town of Hutton’s Bridge. It has made it very difficult for our enemies to travel the roads to our kingdom. They can only land at our ports, which are heavily guarded by my personal army.”

  Stacia waved a hand in the air, her long fingernails tearing through the smoke created by the cinnamon incense burning next to her throne.

  “Everyone here knows how important it is to maintain the boundary of fog. No one passes through it and lives.”

  Tressa swore Stacia’s eyes blinked a few times too many. They both knew some had emerged and survived. Stacia killed one and she didn’t know about Tressa’s father’s encampment. If Stacia wasn’t willing to tell even her elite guard about it, then Tressa had hope they could still succeed.

  “But today something has changed. The fog has fallen.”

  A lump of air caught in Tressa’s throat. She held her lips tight, refusing to let out the surprise. She had so many questions, too many to ask without looking suspicious. Her heart raced, but she continued practicing the breathing Leo had taught her.

  “I need half of you to ride out with the army. Kill anyone who emerges.”

  “But, your highness, there’s no one to kill. The town of Hutton’s Bridge only has ghosts for residents. No one could survive in the fog,” Edgar said.

  Stacia rolled her eyes. “I do not fear ghosts. Nor should you. You must protect our borders from the other kingdoms. One of them did this, found a way past the boundary. Ride out. Gather intelligence. Kill anyone who puts up a fight.”

  Five men, all wolves, stepped forward in unison. “We volunteer to lead the army into battle.”

  Stacia briefly bowed her head. “I accept. Your bravery will not go unnoticed.”

  The five men left the room. Only Tressa, Jarrett, Henry, and two others remained.

  “I need the remainder of you as my private guards. I want two of you stationed outside my door every hour of the day. No one comes or goes without my express permission. You may assume we are at war. With who, I don’t know. Until we have that answer, trust no one. I want one in my chambers with me at all times. Two outside my door and two to rest and then rotate in.” Stacia pointed one fingernail at Jarrett. “I want you with me first. The rest of you may leave. Rotate in four hours.”

  Tressa opened the doors and shuffled out. Her heart was torn. She desperately wanted to ride out with the others and see if her town was safe. It was possible they’d done something to collapse the fog. Or maybe it was Bastian and her father. No matter who did it. Her people were in danger and she was stuck defending the one person she wanted to kill.

  “Let Henry and I take the first rest.” Tressa grabbed his sleeve and yanked. “We only got in to our beds a few minutes ago. I can’t stay awake and I’m sure he’s exhausted too.”

  Henry nodded and flashed a brilliant smile. “Too many high class whores last night. Not the nit-infested whelps you boys toyed with. See you in a few hours.”

  The men glared at them as Tressa and Henry walked away. She could feel their anger like a knife to the back. They walked in silence back to their chamber.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but you don’t have to be an ass about it,” Tressa said.

  Henry raised his eyebrows. “I’m second prince in line to the Yellow Throne. I can say what I want, when I want to. You’re just a silly girl, pretending to be a boy.” He reached out one hand, grabbing at her chest. “I can’t even feel your boobs. You do have them, don’t you?”

  Tressa knocked his arm to the side. “Don’t ever touch me like that again or I’ll do more than block you.”

  “I’m not afraid of a girl.” Henry rolled his eyes.

  “You should be afraid of this one.”

  “Where I come from, women are only for cooking, cleaning, and whoring. They are our servants.” He looked her up and down, disgusted. “They don’t chop off their hair or pretend to be men. They stay quiet and spread their legs when we tell them to. Admit it. You want me, even now.” He stood tall, his hands on his hips, golden hair swinging just above his shoulders.

  “The only part of me that wants to touch your crotch is my knee. Now lay down and get some sleep until we can talk to Jarrett. Stacia is without half of her guard. We may be able to finally do what we’ve all come here for.”

  Henry sat on his bed. He yanked his boots off one by one and tossed them at the edge of Tressa’s bed. Without another word, he laid on the duck feather mattress.

  Tressa settled down on her bed and didn’t relax until she could hear Henry’s signature snoring. Instead she thought about Bastian an
d wished there was some way she could get word to him or her father. Until Jarrett came to relieve them, there was nothing she could do.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Bastian’s lips fell on Tressa’s in a heated embrace. Her back arched, shivers ran up and down her spine. It had been so long, too long, since he’d wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

  Before she could open her eyes, he abruptly pulled away.

  “Get off of her!”

  Tressa sat up, rubbing her eyes. Henry lay sprawled on the floor and Jarrett stood over him. She shook her head, then realized what had been going on.

  “If anyone had seen you kissing what they think is another man, we’d have a whole host of problems on our hands.”

  Tressa’s cheeks turned red. “Wow, and thanks for defending me.”

  Jarrett glared at her. “There was nothing to defend other than our secret.”

  “What?” She stumbled to her feet.

  “You were kissing him back. I thought you had more restraint than that, but after how you presented yourself to me at the pond, I should have known better.”

  Tressa shoved Jarrett. “I was dreaming. I had no idea I was kissing Henry.” She rubbed her sleeve across her lips and tamped down a flare of revulsion.

  Jarrett’s jaw dropped. He stared at Tressa for a moment, then reared back and kicked Henry in the stomach. He bent over, but Tressa grabbed his arms and tugged him back.

  “Don’t,” she said. “Just let it go.”

  “If your mother knew how you were treating an unwilling woman…” Jarrett sank down on Tressa’s bed, his head in his hands.

  “My mother sent me away to steal a throne,” Henry said, still doubled over in pain. “I don’t think she cares what I do so long as I take it and claim it for The Sands.”

  “Your mother would chain you in the dungeon for a month. You know it as well as I do. Learn to behave and do it now!”

  Tears streamed out of Henry’s eyes. “It’s the dragon. It made me do it.” He looked up at Tressa, his eyes pleading. “You believe me, don’t you?”

  She didn’t know what to believe and she wasn’t sure it even mattered.