Dragon Bones (The Dragonwalker Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “I’m glad to see you too.”

  “How did you find us?” She looked behind him, and he turned, worried that Carter had sent soldiers after him, but the road was empty.

  “I kept going north.”

  The priest studied him. “What happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re covered in blood. It looks to be dried, so I presume that you are unharmed, but I am curious as to what happened.”

  Fes looked down. His cloak had been covered in blood. He hadn’t paid much attention to that, though he would have gone into the tavern coated with it. It was surprising that he hadn’t elicited much more of a reaction than he had. “The mercenaries.”

  “How many?” Alison asked.

  “About a dozen fewer than we had before,” he said.

  Alison cocked her head, studying him. They had stopped in the middle of the road with open plains on either side, the mountains far in the distance. They were out in the open, far too exposed for Fes.

  “A dozen? You killed off a dozen mercenaries?”

  “Not all at once,” he said. “And there’s more. Carter is here.”

  She swore softly. When Alison swore, there was something almost sweet about it, though that was rarely the case with her. It reminded him of the days long ago when they had been together.

  “I take it that you know him?” Talmund asked.

  “I know her,” Alison said, watching Fes as she spoke. “Those of us who still work for Horus have had far too much experience with her. Can we stop her?”

  Fes shook his head. He doubted that Alison had the same experience with Carter as he did. Since working for Azithan, he had gotten to know Carter far better than he wanted. “She has too many men with her for us to stop.”

  “It’s not about stopping. It’s about getting ahead of her,” the priest said.

  Fes considered him a moment before revealing what had bothered him during the last day. “She said we need to have a fire mage to reach the plains.” Would the priest answer? Would he deny that to Fes?

  “Normally, she would be right.”

  “Normally?”

  “There is something Carter has not planned on that allows us to reach the dragon plains.”

  Fes studied the priest, meeting the man’s dark eyes. Was he telling the truth? He wanted Fes to accompany him, and had maneuvered him into doing so, but why? What reason was there for him trying to draw Fes into all of this?

  “Whatever you’re both after is incredibly valuable. Enough so that she managed to hire a fire mage.”

  “Are you sure of that?” Alison asked.

  “I saw the Bayars caravan after the attack. It was destroyed. Burned. I don’t know much about fire mages—”

  “More than most of us since you work for one.”

  He let the comment roll past him. “But I suspect an attack like that requires a fire mage. And with what she claimed…”

  “How would she have managed to hire a fire mage?” Alison asked.

  Fes shook his head. That was a good question. He thought the fire mages all worked on behalf of the emperor. To involve a fire mage in this meant it was valuable. Incredibly valuable.

  Unless the fire mage was the one who had hired her.

  “We are after something with incredible power,” the priest said. “There is much power in the dragon fields, but you must know where to look.”

  “Power enough to bring back the dragons, but why would anyone want the dragons to return?” Fes asked. “Do you intend to use the dragon to attack the empire?”

  It was a thought that hadn’t occurred to him before, but it made a particular sort of sense. More than anything, that might be reason to send Fes out of Anuhr, and with the priest. If true, it meant Fes was serving the needs of the empire more directly than ever.

  Alison looked over. “Fes—”

  “I’ve wondered about the intent of this mission all along. With Carter’s involvement, it tells me something incredibly valuable is out there.” And more than that, if Carter were out there—and with a fire mage—it was possible she was serving on behalf of the empire.

  But then there was the issue of the slaughtered soldiers.

  “Something like what you’ve described could be used to overthrow the empire.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Talmund said.

  “No? Then why would anyone want to bring back the dragons? The stories about them are terrifying. Stretches of land that still smolder, all these years later. We even passed one on the way here! Places where life refuses to return. Destruction unlike anything we have ever known. That’s what would happen if the dragons returned.”

  “It’s what the empire has done with the dragon remains that is terrifying,” the priest said. “They have taken something noble and pure and have twisted it, turning it into a way to control and enslave.”

  “Enslave?” Fes asked. “That seems to be quite the extreme way of putting it.”

  “You might not consider yourself enslaved, but you are. Everyone who once settled the dragon fields has been enslaved. The only people who oppose this enslavement are the priests.”

  Fes chuckled as he looked over at the priest. “I don’t hold any particular love for the emperor—” Alison laughed, and he shot her a hard glare—“but the Arashn Empire provides protection.”

  “Protection from what?” the priest asked softly.

  Fes shrugged. There had been peace for so long that it was hard for him to know what the empire protected against. “You might not like the empire, but what’s the alternative? Letting places across the sea rule us? Toulen?”

  “The empire only wants us to believe that we’re protected. It’s how they have subjugated many for as long as they have.”

  “And if the dragons were to return?” The idea of it was impossible. Fes didn’t know much about those times—he wasn’t the kind to care about the histories—but stories of the dragons still remained. They were powerful creatures, and wild. Why anyone would think to worship them was beyond him.

  “The world would once more know their majesty,” the priest whispered.

  Fes didn’t argue. He needed to see this through, if for nothing more than to bring whatever they were after back to Azithan. He might not know the emperor, but he did know Azithan. He had offered Fes an alternative to life in the slums.

  “Let’s keep moving,” he said.

  The priest studied him before nodding. They moved swiftly toward the north, and every step jostled him uncomfortably. The longer they went, the more he began to think it might have been better simply refusing this job to avoid time on horseback.

  “One thing I’ve never understood is how dragon artifacts can be used for power,” Alison said after they’d been riding for a while.

  “Alison—” Fes started.

  She shot him a look. “Not all of us went off to take a job with a fire mage, Fes. Some of us don’t have the same experience with fire mages.”

  “Do you really still blame me for taking that job? It got me away from Horus. It gave me the opportunity to make money—real money—not the kind Horus was willing to pay.”

  “It took you from me,” she said softly.

  “Horus would have done that eventually,” Fes said.

  She turned away from him, focusing on the priest.

  The priest considered them for a moment, and Fes imagined that he debated whether he would reveal a secret before glancing at Fes and pulling a small item from his pocket. It appeared to be a curved piece of stone. From where he was, Fes could see the striations along the stone, and there was a faint shimmering of deep red around it.

  “This is a dragon claw,” the priest said. “It came from a smallish creature, probably no more than two years old when she was slaughtered.”

  Fes leaned forward, curiosity getting the best of him. As often happened when around dragon artifacts, he felt a tugging sensation. Even if he didn’t see the striations along the bone
streaked with a hint of color, he would have known the relic to be real.

  “Now watch,” the priest said. He held the claw between his fingers, almost as if he intended to slash at Alison. Fes wasn’t sure what they were supposed to watch for, but as he stared at the dragon claw, it began to change. First, it began to steam, almost as if it had been sitting out in the sun all day and then submerged into an icy bath. The hints of reddish glow became apparent, oozing from the striations.

  It lasted only a moment. Long enough for both Fes and Alison to see it, but then it faded, returning back to the same appearance that the claw had before the demonstration.

  He’d seen Azithan use his magic only a few times, but Alison hadn’t been around a fire mage.

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  “It? I just showed you the power that a one-thousand-year-old bone has, and you question whether that is it?”

  She shrugged. “It just seems like there would have been… more. If all it does is glow like that, why is there such an interest in bones?” Alison said.

  “It glows for him, but a fire mage would be different,” Fes said.

  She eyed him, annoyance burning in her gaze, before turning to the priest.

  Talmund twisted the dragon claw in his hand before slipping it into his pocket. “That was nothing more than a small demonstration. That dragon claw has been with me for decades. I have drawn upon the power stored within that claw many times.”

  “Does using it deplete it?” Alison asked.

  “There is only so much energy stored within these relics. When it is gone, so too is the residual power within them. The dragon priests are able to access that power, but we are cautious not to deplete it. We recognize that when that power is gone, there may not be any more. If we have any hope of restoring the dragons, there must be some residual power.”

  “And the fire mages?” Alison asked.

  “The fire mages care little about restoring the dragons. They never have. Why do you think the dragons were slaughtered in the first place?”

  “They were killed because they were dangerous,” Fes said.

  “Dangerous to who?” the priest asked. “If you ask the people of the dragon plains, they would tell you that their ancestors never feared the dragons. It wasn’t until the first fire mage realized that there was power to be had by slaughtering the dragons that they began their hunt. Much power had been used over the years, and now… now very little remains.”

  Fes stared at the pocket where the priest had placed the dragon claw. He couldn’t imagine the time when the dragons roamed free, and couldn’t imagine the danger that must have existed, especially if that claw, nearly the size of the priest’s finger, was from little more than a baby.

  “That’s why the Bayars wanted you to come?” Fes asked.

  “He wanted me because I am one of the true priests of the Relash. We have long served the dragons, and we have long searched for a way to restore their power, and if that fails, to bring them peace.”

  “You don’t think that the dragons have any peace?”

  “The way they were destroyed took away any chance the dragons had for peace. The way their bones were torn apart, ripped from them, has taken away any chance they had at peace. We attempt only to bring them back together, to help the dragons find whatever lasting peace that they can. That is what we will do.”

  “It seems all a little bit…” Fes waved his hand. He didn’t quite know how to describe it, other than he felt as if the priests and what they searched for was strange.

  “Only because you don’t believe,” Talmund said.

  The landscape had begun to change, and Fes stared. Mountains were rising in the far distance, but near enough that he could start to make them out. The northern mountain chain was immense and incredibly rugged, which made Fes thankful that he wasn’t traveling that far. He was content to reach only the plains that stretched in front of it.

  The dragon plains.

  The dragon plains were said to be difficult to cross. The ground still steamed from the blood of the long dead dragons, and though no more bones remained, there was plenty of evidence of the destruction—and the power—that once had been here.

  “Have you ever visited?” the priest asked.

  Fes glanced over to see the priest watching him with a curious expression. He shook his head. “No. I’ve never visited. There has been no reason for me to come here.”

  “Even though you are descended from the Settlers?”

  “I don’t know who—or what—I’m descended from.”

  “That’s not true,” the priest said.

  Fes ignored him and focused on the road ahead of him. They were moving at a reasonable pace, but he still worried about what would happen were Carter to attempt an attack. The path led them around a bend, and in the distance, Fes caught sight of movement.

  “Be ready—“

  As he said it, two men jumped from either side of the path, crashing into his horse. Fes was spun around and twisted in his saddle but wasn’t able to right himself quickly enough.

  He heard the sound of fighting and saw Alison swinging her sword at another attacker, while still another tried to grab her horse’s reins.

  Fes jumped from his saddle, pulling the daggers free. He couldn’t fight from horseback, and these men were on foot, which meant that he would be better off facing them on foot.

  He jumped toward the nearest attacker and jabbed the dagger into his shoulder. He twisted as he did, and the man screamed.

  The person Alison fought called out as well, and he looked over to see that person falling, dropping to the ground with half of his arm missing.

  They were Carter’s men. He could tell it from the style of fabric, the dark browns and blacks, but surprisingly, they weren’t that skilled at fighting. There weren’t even enough of them to do enough to Fes or Alison, let alone the priest…

  Fes looked over to see what they had done to the priest, and too late he realized that the attack on himself and Alison had been nothing more than a diversion. They had planned it so that they could draw him and Alison off, and now that they had, the priest was isolated. One of the attackers held him tightly, and a knife was thrust into his side. The attacker kicked the horse and sent it surging forward.

  Fes reached for his own horse and climbed into the saddle, only to discover that the horse had been lamed. One of the legs was injured, and the horse could barely walk.

  He looked over at Alison. She had quickly dispatched her attackers but was in the same situation as him. There was no way for them to go anywhere.

  Fes stared at the priest, watching as he was led away. He started after them, attempting to run after the mercenaries, but they were on horse, and he was on foot.

  He turned back to Alison. She had rammed her sword into Fes’s attacker. She knelt over him, glaring at him with rage burning in her eyes.

  Fes hurried over to her and touched her on the hand. “It won’t change anything.”

  “It makes me feel better,” she said.

  “We have to go after him,” Fes said.

  “How?” She looked at Fes, and there was something more than irritation on her face. “On horse, it would be hard enough to catch up to them, and on foot… I don’t think we have a chance.”

  “We know that Carter is the one who has him. And we know that she wants to bring the priest somewhere north, so you can use that and figure out how to catch him.”

  “On foot? Fes, they will get Talmund to the dragon fields and return before we even have a chance of reaching them.”

  Which meant that their job was going to fail. Which meant that the money that he had been promised from Horus was gone. Which meant that it was useless for him to continue heading north. He knew that it didn’t matter—that it shouldn’t matter—but he couldn’t help himself.

  “If we can reach the next village, we could find alternatives.”

  “Alternatives? They will be so far ahead of us that it won’t matt
er at that point.”

  “Do you have a better idea?” He didn’t think that Alison intended to abandon the priest, though her reasoning seemed to be about more than the money involved. What reason would Alison have in going after the priest if it wasn’t only about money?

  She looked back at the fallen mercenaries. None of them breathed, and their blood was spilled on the ground. What a waste. It was an intentional sacrifice made by Carter to allow her to grab the priest. And it meant that she felt the priest was important, for whatever reason. Fes needed to understand what that reason might be.

  “If only we had gotten a little farther,” she whispered.

  “Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Not now that they took Talmund.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  Alison fell silent as they started walking. By late in the day, the sound of thunder rumbled toward him. When he looked up to see the clear sky, he realized that it wasn’t thunder at all. It didn’t take long for him to realize that riders approached.

  “We should hide,” he said.

  But it was too late. They were out in the open, and there was no place for them to go. If they were more of Carter’s men, then they needed to be ready for an attack. Carter might need the priest, but she didn’t need Fes.

  When they neared, he counted two dozen, and all dressed differently than Carter’s men had been. Not her mercenaries.

  Fes looked over at Alison, expecting to see her reaching for her sword, but she didn’t. She made no effort to grab for her weapon.

  They were outnumbered.

  But… by who?

  Chapter Thirteen

  When they grabbed his daggers, Fes resisted the urge to fight. The only thing that would happen were he to fight would be his death. They made no attempt on Alison, which implied something.

  “You were expecting this?” Fes asked Alison as the two men grabbed him by the arms. Each man had pocketed one of his daggers, and he took a moment to memorize their features, determined to know who to go after to reclaim them.

  She didn’t answer. The men made quick work of binding his arms, trapping them behind him. Surprisingly, they didn’t search his cloak. Considering the way they left Alison alone, he suspected she was in on whatever this was.