Dreaming in the Dark_Chains of the Fallen Volume 1

by James E. Wisher

  Andrew blew out a sigh and closed the trunk lid. “We’ve been over this. Lidia is handling the armies, but I need to see how the fields look. If it’s as bad as I fear, we’ll need to plan for winter rationing and the sooner we know the better. It’s not like I’m leading charges and swinging a sword. This is just an inspection.”

  Karrie poked her head in the doorway. “I could go with you.”

  “No,” Andrew and Audra said in unison. At least they agreed on one thing.

  “Why not?”

  “You’re heir to the throne,” Andrew said. “While I’m away, you need to keep an eye on the capital. We all have our parts to play, sweetheart.”

  Karrie scowled. “You’re just saying that because I’m a girl.”

  “No, a prince would have to remain behind the same as a princess.” Andrew’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you have lessons?”

  “I finished them.”

  “I could have your tutor find some more.”

  “No need for that.” Karrie grinned. “I’ll just let you get on with packing.”

  She ducked back into the hall. Andrew smiled. She was the light of his life. How had he gotten so lucky to have such a wonderful girl? If only he could find a man worthy of her.

  “At least you have sense enough not to drag our daughter along,” Audra said. “You’re setting a bad example.”

  Andrew at last turned to face his wife. She was every bit as beautiful as the day he married her. A few streaks of gray ran through her long blond hair and the occasional line formed at the corners of her eyes, but what could he expect after almost twenty years married to him?

  “I’m doing what I must. When Karrie becomes queen, I hope she will do the same. Now, are you going to give me a kiss goodbye?”

  Audra offered a long-suffering sigh, leaned in, and kissed his cheek. “Do come home safe.”

  “Never fear, darling, you’re going to have to put up with me for a long time yet.”

  Andrew walked from the bedroom to the apartment door and rapped once. The waiting servant hurried in, collected his trunk, and carried it off. Six Crimson Legion sorcerers were waiting to transport him to the Golden Plains.

  The flight shouldn’t take more than an hour, but the sooner they got going the better. He’d barely taken a step toward the hall when slender arms wrapped around him from behind. “Be careful, Father.”

  He turned and kissed Karrie on the top of the head. “I will. Look after your mother.”

  Karrie made a face. “If she introduces me to one more noble idiot I’m going to scream.”

  “You shouldn’t have let Damien get away.”

  “I didn’t!”

  He smiled and patted her head. “I’m teasing, sweetheart. Don’t worry, everything will work out. If worst comes to worst, I can change the damn law. That’s one of the perks of being king.”

  Andrew winked and strode out the door. Servants and guards bowed as he passed. He’d ordered court canceled for the foreseeable future. He hadn’t told the nobles about the current threat, not even Sig’s father knew what his son had done. Andrew wanted first-hand information before he got them all riled up.

  And oh, would they be riled up. Two bloody armies crossing the kingdom at the same time and neither of them answering to him.

  Out in the yard, the sun shone down on the bare dirt and reflected off the red robes of his escorts. His trunk rested on a golden disk beside a chair that resembled his throne. It was a nice touch.

  “Are we ready, Nathanial?” Andrew asked.

  Nathanial, Lidia’s current second-in-command, was a six-foot-six bruiser that looked more like a warlord than a sorcerer. He’d served in the legion for six years and Lidia had full faith in the man which was enough for Andrew.

  “At your pleasure, Majesty.” Nathanial bowed and gestured toward the glowing throne.

  Andrew settled in and they soared into the sky. The little group had barely left the capital when Andrew said, “How long would it take to do a flyover of the approaching armies?”

  “Perhaps three hours extra. Would you like us to adjust our course, Majesty?”

  “Please, and not a word to my wife.”

  Nathanial choked on a laugh. When he’d recovered he asked, “North or south?”

  “South. I’ve seen plenty of ogres over the years.”

  They angled south and accelerated. Inside the soul force bubble, he felt nothing. It was like the smoothest coach ride ever. The Great Green flew by. Here and there brown lines ran through the massive forest, like veins in a green giant. The kingdom was centuries old, but they’d hardly put a dent in the wilderness. Somehow Andrew found that reassuring. Like some things would never change.

  Some company to chat with would have been nice, but the sorcerers were focused outward as they scanned for threats and he didn’t wish to disturb their concentration.

  Eventually the land turned brown and the trees grew sparse. The border baronies had never been lush like the central part of the kingdom. Still, fields and orchards dotted the area. Even if the Golden Plains didn’t yield their usual bounty, they still had resources. The kingdom would survive.

  They stopped and Andrew shifted his gaze. When it landed on the crawling mass of red-clad soldiers he gasped. “Heaven’s mercy.”

  Lidia hadn’t sent a head count, but he guessed the southerners numbered near thirty thousand. Did that mean there were thirty thousand ogres coming down from the north? His stomach roiled thinking about it.

  “Do you wish to get closer, Majesty?” Nathanial asked.

  “No, we can turn north.”

  The throne rotated and they shot forward. When they reached the approaching ogres Andrew’s heart nearly stopped. There were even more of the monsters than southerners. He guessed the ogres’ numbers at close to forty thousand.

  How many years had it been since the Ice Queen sent a force that size against them? He couldn’t recall, but not in his lifetime. Whatever power watched over them, Andrew sent it a word of thanks. If they’d had to fight both opponents instead of escorting them he shuddered to think of the death toll.

  “I’ve seen enough,” Andrew said. “Take us to the plains.”

  The final leg of their journey took most of an hour. When they arrived, the harvest was well underway. Warlords and sorcerers zipped back and forth with stacks of grain. The bulk of the western army hadn’t arrived yet, but the ones that would make the most difference were here.

  Mattis Clark, a gray-bearded farmer that oversaw the biggest farm in the plains, stood off to one side watching the harvest with hands on his hips. Mattis had agreed to take on the task of managing the harvest. For the moment, he outranked General Gauge, or he would when the rest of the army arrived.

  The throne descended and settled to the ground beside him. The golden sphere vanished as Andrew stood.

  If the sight of his king impressed the old farmer, it didn’t show on his impassive features. He offered a minimally polite nod. “Majesty.”

  “Mattis. How goes the harvest?”

  Mattis spit to one side and dried his beard on his sleeve. “We’ve got to clear three months’ worth of fields in two weeks. With the workers we got I’d say we’ll get there. I wouldn’t have believed it until I saw your sorcerers in action. Might hire a couple of them myself next year. Gettin’ the harvest in isn’t the big problem.”

  Andrew groaned. There was always another problem. “What is?”

  “The quality. The crops we’re bringing in aren’t ready. Most of the corn’s only good for cattle feed. The wheat’s a little further along so we should be okay there, maybe. We haven’t started on the barley.”

  “Are we looking at winter shortages?” Andrew asked.

  Mattis grimaced. “You’ll have to tap the reserves for sure. If you loosen up the hunting restrictions and have the fisherman increase their hauls, there’ll be enough to get us through. On the good side, if enough blood is spilled, it should make the plains more fertile for next year, so
we can make it up.”

  Trust Mattis to find an upside to a massive battle. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Naw. We’re doing the best we can with what we have. Just have to hope it’s enough.”

  Chapter Seventy-One

  The underground city was dark and empty, just like Damien left it. Less than a day had passed and Damien found himself back again, this time in the company of Al Elan instead of the professor. The southerner was at least a quieter traveling companion than Dorius. Not that Al Elan had to try very hard, the professor seldom shut up for more than five minutes.

  He flicked a glance at Al Elan. The young man stared down at the city with a rapt expression usually reserved for beautiful women and dragons. Damien didn’t get what the fuss was about. The city consisted of boring, square buildings and the occasional spiral tower. If it weren’t underground, it wouldn’t even warrant a second look.

  They were flying near the ceiling on the first level and working their way toward the descending staircase. Damien was pretty sure he’d killed most, if not all, of the goblins, but better safe than sorry. Getting Dreamer’s chosen killed would do nothing to endear him to the black dragon.

  “It is just like my dream,” Al Elan said. “Could we go down, just for a moment?”

  Damien reached out with his sorcerous senses and felt nothing living within range.

  “Sure.” He descended and they landed on the nearest roof. “There you go.”

  Al Elan bent and pressed his hand to the stone. While Al Elan roamed around staring, Damien asked Lizzy, “Anything from the elders or Dreamer?”

  No. Nobody has attempted to touch your mind or his. The dragon, at least, must know we’re here. Perhaps whatever he has to say he prefers to say in person.

  “Maybe.”

  Al Elan stepped away from the edge of the roof. “Can we walk the rest of the way? I’d like to see more of the city.”

  Damien hesitated a moment then shrugged. If a warlord and a sorcerer couldn’t handle a wandering goblin or two they deserved their fate.

  “There’s not much to look at, but if you want to I can’t see any harm. How come no one gave you a sword?”

  “Other than your sister, no one trusts me.” Al Elan leapt down and Damien joined him. “Not that I blame them. I am an unknown variable, as my instructors used to say. Better to assume I’m an enemy than a friend.”

  They walked through the empty city in silence for a while before Al Elan said, “I’m surprised your superiors allowed you to bring me here on your own.”

  “Everyone else was busy. The steps are just ahead.”

  “I meant, why weren’t they worried about me hurting you?”

  Damien grinned. “I suspect they figured after all the demons I’ve killed, you wouldn’t be much of a threat. Plus, Jen vouched for you, so that carries a lot of weight, with me at least.”

  They reached the steps and started down. No traps sprang to life this time. The second level was just as quiet as the first. Damien extended his senses but found nothing living. Maybe he really did get all the goblins.

  He set a course for Dreamer’s chamber. The sooner they got this done the better.

  An hour of walking brought them to the open door of Dreamer’s chamber. The black dragon’s scales glittered in the light of Damien’s orbs. Al Elan’s eyes resembled saucers as he stared at Dreamer. The huge dragon had that effect on people. At least he didn’t faint.

  “What could I possibly offer such a creature?”

  “Beats me. Lizzy, is he awake?”

  The dragon’s mind is distant. Something elsewhere holds his attention.

  “Great. I run his errand and return with the dragon’s chosen and he’s off doing whatever he does.” Damien conjured a bench and sat. “I could get to hate dragons.”

  “What are we to do?” Al Elan asked.

  “Wait, I guess. I can’t just leave you here.” Damien glanced at the sleeping dragon. “Though if you stay close to him you’d probably be safe enough.”

  Damien! Company!

  He sensed the presences a moment later. Three slimy-skinned Builders, each of them with an eyeless gaze and extra finger, stood in front of the door to Dreamer’s chamber. Looked like he hadn’t gotten all of the heretics after all. That was a problem he could remedy.

  Lizzy was in his hands in an instant.

  “Wait,” the center heretic said. “If you wish Dahlmis to live, you will lower your weapon.”

  Damien frowned and pointed Lizzy at the floor. “I’m listening.”

  “Someone must be punished for killing our brother and slaughtering our creations. We planned to sacrifice Dahlmis, but when we sensed your arrival, we decided on a new plan. Your life for his.”

  They’re not bluffing. Dahlmis is being held by a few of their surviving goblins. He’s bound and helpless.

  Damien tried to focus on sending his thoughts to Lizzy. Can you find him?

  Yes, I’ve already taken the location from their minds.

  Quick as thought Damien slashed Lizzy through the air, sending an arc of soul force at the heretics.

  The conjured blade sliced through them. Their forms wavered and vanished, revealing Builder-shaped rocks that had been sliced neatly in half. Decoys, he should have known it couldn’t be that easy.

  “Is everything alright?” Al Elan asked.

  “No. A friend of mine is in trouble. I need to go. Stay with the dragon. When he wakes up you can do whatever you have to do. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  Damien took a step toward the door.

  “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “What am I supposed to do for food and water? How long do you expect me to sit beside this sleeping beast?”

  “Right, I left some supplies upstairs. I can grab ’em and bring them back, no problem. As for Dreamer, he’ll wake when he wakes. When that will be, your guess is as good as mine.”

  “That’s not very helpful,” Al Elan said.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m little more than a glorified delivery boy. As my master likes to say, be patient.”

  Damien gathered his power and leapt toward the cavern roof. He needed to find Dahlmis before the goblins decided to have him for a snack.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Damien tied a pouch of rations to his belt as he flew away from the dragon’s chamber. He’d left Al Elan with enough food for two and a half months and directions to the nearest well. Nothing would be stupid enough to approach Dreamer, so he should be fine. Still, Damien hated leaving him alone. Since he wasn’t willing to sacrifice Dahlmis there was no other choice. Hopefully, he could rescue his friend quickly and return.

  “Where is he, Lizzy?”

  In his observation room at the tower’s summit. The heretics ambushed him.

  It was a good place to ambush someone. Only one way in or out, and nowhere to hide. Even if the heretics didn’t take him by surprise, three against one gave them quite an advantage.

  Damien raced across the cavern at maximum speed. Ten seconds later he hovered in front of the blank stone of the tower. He sensed nothing through the stone, but that might be part of the design. They wouldn’t want to let the world know where they’d hidden their observation post. If the Builder’s magic could siphon power from a dragon, blocking Damien’s sorcerous senses wouldn’t be much trouble.

  A lance of soul force burst from his finger and sliced through the stone like butter. A heavy slug of stone crashed to the floor revealing an empty room.

  Damien landed inside the observation chamber and looked around. No sign of a struggle, no blood trail, no nothing.

  He paced around the circumference. “Are you sure this is where they have him?”

  That’s what I read in the heretics’ thoughts. They are skilled telepaths. I sensed no deception, but I also didn’t recognize them as psychic projections. They might have planted false information foremost in their minds to trick me.

  “Wel
l that’s not good.”

  He bent closer to the floor in hopes of spotting some sign of a fight, but the floor’s smooth surface mocked him. There wasn’t even a way to know if Dahlmis had ever been here.

  If they messed up, his friend might be dead already. No, he couldn’t think that way. The heretics were using Dahlmis as bait and live bait worked best. They must have taken him somewhere. He just needed to figure out where.

  Damien stomped over to the empty chair, sat, and glowered at the blank stone walls. An observation post without windows for a blind race. That made a certain twisted sense. It was out of the way and while height made little difference to Damien’s detection range, maybe it was different with Builders.

  “I’m open to suggestions, Lizzy.”

  I wish I had one to offer.

  Damien slapped the arm of the chair and the moment he did a crystal manacle wrapped around his wrist, binding his arm to the chair.

  “What the hell?”

  Two more manacles bound his ankles. At least he had one arm free. Damien summoned soul force and blasted the manacle holding his wrist.

  The instant the golden beam struck, a trapdoor under the chair opened and he fell into the darkness.

  The light above vanished, forcing Damien to conjure a new one. The chair hurtled along like a slide on an icy hill. Damien’s heart raced and he grinned. Under other circumstances this might’ve been fun. Stopping it would have been easy enough, but if this was the trap, maybe it would carry him to Dahlmis.

  You should free yourself of the bindings at least.

  “Good point.”

  Lizzy sent a stream of divine soul force and he shaped it into a thin blade. Three slices later and he was free. And not a second too soon. The tunnel shifted angles and a moment later he shot out into an open cavern with vertical sides.

  The chair crashed to the floor, but Damien hung in the air and looked around. He sensed a single life force in the far corner. His glow sphere swooped down revealing the prone form of a Builder facedown on the cavern floor. Could have been Dahlmis or any other Builder. From the back they all looked the same. At least whoever it was still drew breath.