The Dragon King (The Alaris Chronicles Book 3)

by Mike Shelton

  Through the trees, Kharlia could see riverboats being tied off for the evening. These held large cuttings of trees—wood to be shipped south to Corwan and down to Mallek in the southern desert of Elvyn and even to Tillimot, now that the barrier was down.

  Gloron moved closer to Conway to answer his question. “The land provides for our needs. Roots and vegetables grow under our great trees, and there is some farming done along the coast. For other goods, we trade with the kingdoms to the north and south.”

  “I would like to visit there someday.” Conway had a dreamy look in his eyes—before he bumped directly into his commanding officer, the captain of the scouts.

  “Watch what you’re doing, Conway,” the captain said, a man with a permanent scowl on his face. “For all we know, these elves are behind the army being on our western border. They may be preparing to sandwich us between their two forces.”

  Kharlia stepped forward and glared up at the captain of the scouts. He was a good foot taller than herself. Putting her hands on her hips, she prepared to give him a piece of her mind. “The elves are not attacking us. They are peaceful. And I was sent by their king to help him find his betrothed.”

  The captain stopped moving and peered down at Kharlia. “What does a little girl know about such things as war?”

  Gloron and Keryth moved up next to Kharlia, one on each side. Their muscles were held taut, and their faces looked solemn.

  “Kharlia is Elvyn-friend and has honor among us,” Keryth said, holding his bow ready in his hands. “You will do well not to speak to her so.”

  The captain put his hands up in the air and said, “I want no trouble here. I will honor the king’s request to escort you three, but leave my men alone.” With that, he motioned his men to come away with him.

  Conway looked back over his shoulder and mouthed that he was sorry.

  Kharlia guessed that these old hatreds—built during the one hundred and fifty years of Alaris’s solitude—would take a while to be reconciled.

  Walking their horses to a nearby inn, they handed them all off, then headed inside. After a hot meal, the entire group headed to the rooms prepared for them. And Kharlia drifted off to sleep, wondering what Bakari was doing right then.

  * * *

  Around noon, three days later, Kharlia, the two Elvyn guards, and the scouts from Cassian entered the gates of the Citadel. The mood at this home of the wizard school appeared somber as the group was greeted by three guards at the gate and then ushered inside.

  Soon Kharlia heard the door of the Citadel open, before they had even climbed the steps, and Alli came running down, taking two steps at a time.

  “Kharlia!” Alli exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Alli, I could ask the same of you.” Kharlia laughed. She had become friends with Alli over the past six months and enjoyed seeing her again now. Alli’s dark hair had grown longer and now hung down below the top of her shoulders. Her grin was infectious, and Kharlia turned to introduce her to the rest of the company.

  The captain stepped forward and said, “Battlemaster.” He nodded his head to Alli.

  He obviously knew who Alli was. Most people in Alaris did. Alli had made quite a name for herself throughout the battles of the last year and the new buildup of the Citadel.

  “We are here on urgent business from the king,” the captain continued. “He specifically sends his greetings to you.”

  Kharlia watched as Alli tried to hide her blush by motioning them toward the Citadel doors and saying, “I can guess what this is about. Please come in.”

  “Will the High Wizard be joining us?” the captain asked as they entered through the ancient doors.

  Kharlia glanced up at the high walls and curving staircase. She had been here a few times before, but each time it had awed her—the history of this building and the power it held.

  Power! I can feel its power! Kharlia thought, wondering how that could be. She was not a wizard.

  “Kharlia?” Alli asked. “Are you all right?”

  Kharlia realized that she had stopped walking and stood as if in a daze. So she nodded her head to Alli and said, “The power is almost overwhelming.”

  Alli opened her green eyes wide and round. “You feel it? You feel the power? But…”

  Kharlia put a hand on Alli’s arm and said, “I am a healer now.”

  Gloron stepped forward and bowed low to Alli. “I am Gloron, and this is Keryth.” He motioned to the side. “I am pleased to greet you, Battlemaster. We have heard much about you in Elvyn.” A smile spread across his face. “It is said that your dance is as graceful as an elf’s.”

  Alli blushed again and laughed. “I’m afraid I don’t dance, sir.”

  This time both Keryth and Gloron laughed, their voices filling the air with the most pleasant sound.

  Then Kharlia explained for Alli. “They mean your fighting, Alli. You fight with the grace of an elf.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Alli said. “But what about the power?” she asked, returning to her previous question.

  “Kharlia Attah is now Elvyn-friend and a healer of great renown among us,” Gloron said. “She possesses the elves’ ability to heal.”

  Alli looked like she didn’t know what to say, and, before she could say anything, the captain spoke up again.

  “This little reunion is all well and good, Battlemaster, but we have urgent business with High Wizard Roland Tyre. Will you please inform him that we are here at the king’s request?”

  Alli glanced down for a moment. When she looked back up, her eyes were hard. “I am sorry to inform you, Captain, that the High Wizard is not available to meet with you today. However, our other Council members would be most pleased to do so. I am sure you are here to discuss the building up of an army on our western border.”

  The captain frowned. “Where is the High Wizard?”

  “That information is not available to share with you, Captain,” Alli continued. “Needless to say, we are prepared to talk with you about the army and will do all we can to help you prevent them from marching into Alaris.”

  Tam joined Alli now and motioned to the captain and his men as he said, “If you will follow me, sirs, you can meet with Battle Wizard Gorn. We are planning a trip to the border, and you may join us if you would like.”

  The captain nodded his head, but he still didn’t look very happy. Then he and his men followed Tam to another room while Kharlia and the two Elvyn guards stayed with Alli.

  After the scouts had left, Alli turned to Kharlia. “I need you to see something.” Then she motioned them to follow her upstairs. “Maybe there is something you can do, to help Roland. He’s gotten himself into a bit of a problem.”

  Kharlia wondered what was going on, but she dutifully followed Alli upstairs, Gloron and Keryth on their heels.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  Bakari arose early the next morning. The late spring air was cooler this close to the Superstition Mountains. After waking the stableboy from his sleep in the hayloft, Bakari retrieved Flash and was soon on his way. The sun had not yet risen, but an orange glow in the east promised a warm and clear day. The Cremelino seemed to know the direction to go, so Bakari let the horse run free down the road leading south.

  They soon passed the road that went east, to Anikari, the capital of the Realm. Bakari wanted to see the city, but he couldn’t spare the time. There was a current of urgency in the magic stream. Forces were building for good and bad, and he would need his dragon and the strength that Abylar brought to him.

  As Bakari rode the Cremelino, he let his mind wander—not in a random way but letting his scholarly mind try to focus in figuring out everything that was going on around them. He ciphered through the bits and pieces he had received from Roland in the magical stream, from a few words he had received from the High Wizard of the Wizard Conclave in Arc, and from what Liam and Breanna had shared with him. Soon a clearer picture was forming in his mind of what must be happening.

  The
last wizard king of Alaris had escaped into the magic stream or had been stuck there somehow—Bakari wasn’t quite sure which. Either way, the man was in the stream of magic and was trying to reenter the world of the living, to take control of the land once again.

  Three of his children, or descendants—the Chameleon, the General, and the Sentinel—were wreaking havoc on various parts of the Western Continent. Each held the power of darkness in himself, which could not be combated completely by the current powers of wizards. All the surrounding lands were in danger of falling under their influence.

  Bakari knew that the dragons were the key, but as yet he couldn’t figure out how. That’s why he needed his bond with Abylar back.

  Sometime after noon, Bakari had Flash slow down and take a small trail off the main road, to rest for a few minutes. Bakari needed to stretch his legs, and both of them needed to eat and get a drink. While Flash wandered a bit farther away, to a small meadow of grasses and spring flowers, Bakari set off to a nearby stream.

  Kneeling down on one knee, he reached into the stream and brought up a handful of cool water, then splashed it over his face. Before leaning back up, he heard his Cremelino squeal loudly, and a scream flashed through his mind.

  Bakari moved to stand up. But, with only a moment’s warning, he heard someone behind him. Before he could do anything, a hard object smashed against the back of his head, and he slumped to the ground.

  The last thing that Bakari heard was the Cremelino’s frantic voice in his head, saying, Help is coming. Spring is coming!

  What a strange thing to say, Bakari thought as he tumbled fully into the darkness.

  * * *

  The next thing Bakari knew, he was hearing voices. His hand automatically moved, intending to rub his sore head, but both his hands were tightly manacled behind his back. He gritted his teeth in frustration.

  Why couldn’t anything be easy?

  Opening his eyes, Bakari tried to look around himself. He saw a group of men, sitting around a small fire, and then noticed the smells of roasted rabbit filling the air. His mouth watered.

  The brightness of earlier that day was now growing shadowed. The sun had dropped behind the immense mountains, signaling evening approaching. Moving his head a few inches, he saw Flash, the Cremelino. His heart lurched. The poor animal had chains around his feet and his neck was tied to a tree.

  Bakari’s first thought was to bring forth his powers—he was a wizard, wasn’t he? But, even though he knew his powers weren’t gone, he wasn’t able to access them. He didn’t know if that was from being hit on the head or from the strange manacles his hands were secured in behind his back.

  “Ah, the wizard is awake,” said a bulky man that had muscles bulging under his leather vest. His light brown hair was cut short, and he walked over with a sneer toward Bakari.

  “Surprised you, huh?” the bulky man said.

  Bakari didn’t say anything.

  The three other men, none as large as the first, stayed huddled around the fire. But one of them called out, “Llew, come back to the fire and eat. He’s not going anywhere.”

  Llew snorted and returned while Bakari tried to figure out what to do. Then Bakari ventured a question.

  “Who are you?”

  One of the thinner men laughed. Holding a piece of roasted rabbit in his hands, he licked his lips and said, “Just doing some trade, good wizard.”

  “Shut up, Madoc,” Llew said. “He doesn’t need to know anything.”

  “What does it matter?” pushed Madoc. “We will be long gone with the Cremelino before he gets free of those things.” The man glanced at Bakari’s manacles.

  “Where did you get these?” Bakari asked.

  “From a man in Mar,” continued Madoc, much to the disapproval of his comrades. “He is offering good coin for these magical horses.”

  Another thin man punched Madoc in the shoulder and said, “The boy doesn’t look much like a wizard.”

  All four of the men laughed and then turned their attention back to eating.

  Bakari grunted. They were right. He didn’t look—or feel—much like a wizard.

  Help will be here soon, the Cremelino said into his mind once more.

  Bakari almost jumped in surprise. Flash, you can still talk to me? He had figured the manacles that obviously blocked his magic would also block the Cremelino’s speech.

  The power of the spirit is hard to contain, Flash said as a cryptic answer. Your dragon is the same way.

  Then why can’t I feel him? Bakari screamed inside his own mind, and he tried to pull off the manacles that secured his hands and pull away from the rope that held him to the tree.

  Try.

  The request was so soft that Bakari wasn’t sure he had even heard it. He didn’t have anything else to do at the moment, so he closed his eyes and reached outward with his senses. His magic was blocked. He tried to work around it, but nothing happened. So he breathed deeper and let his mind relax. Then he tried to move it to the same level of how he spoke to the Cremelino.

  Flash?

  Yes, I am here, Dragon King.

  The reply surprised Bakari.

  Pretend you are speaking to me, Flash suggested, but reach out farther.

  Bakari went deeper into the wide expanse of his mind. It wasn’t the familiar magical stream—as his normal powers were not available—but it did have similarities. Then, all that he had read or learned in his life began to flash before him. He never forgot anything that he saw or heard. Libraries full of information were stored there. A power in and of itself.

  Aahhh. Something had dawned on Bakari. His capacity to remember—a unique ability, as far as he had heard of—was in itself a power. A power outside the reach of the manacles stopping his wizard powers.

  Then he felt it. A brief spark to the southwest. Not far away. Up in the mountains. He tried to grab hold of it and bring it closer. Then more thoughts and feelings came to him. A dragon’s thoughts. Abylar’s thoughts!

  I found him, Bakari said to Flash.

  I feel him through you, the Cremelino said with awe. A powerful presence.

  Abylar! Bakari said.

  But nothing happened.

  What had taken his dragon away from him? Without thinking, Bakari pulled some of the Cremelino’s power to himself and found that his own abilities were amplified.

  Abylar, Bakari said again.

  This time there was a stirring. A recognition.

  Master? came the weak thought.

  Abylar, it’s me, your rider.

  Dragon King! Help me! Abylar said, and then his voice faded away once again.

  But now Bakari knew where Abylar was.

  Now I just have to get out of these things. Bakari flexed against his wrists again. He opened his eyes and saw the men looking at him. They shrugged, laughed, and returned to eating.

  Spring is almost here! Flash said to him.

  Why do you keep saying that? It doesn’t make any sense, Bakari thought, feeling frustrated. Had the Cremelino gone mad? It had been spring for months.

  What are you talking about? Bakari asked Flash.

  Then there was a flaring light in the bond, and another voice said, Dragon King, don’t despair.

  Bakari looked around, trying to figure out who it was that had spoken to him. The voice sounded familiar.

  Suddenly, Bakari heard a loud noise through the brush and trees.

  Here comes Spring, Flash said with joy.

  Bakari turned his head, and through the trees came another beautiful white Cremelino with a small woman on its back. She wore a white robe over a blue riding skirt. Her blond hair was short, and her flushed face held much youthfulness, though she was probably at least twice Bakari’s age.

  “Hello again, Dragon King.” She nodded her head at him.

  “Danijela!”

  The High Wizard from Arc rode up next to him. The four men around the fire scrambled to their feet, and soon the sounds of four swords being drawn rang throug
h the air. Then the men began to encircle the newcomer.

  They didn’t get very far, though. With a small flick of her wrist, Danijela sent the swords flying. Before the men could run, she circled her arms in the air, and the ground beneath their feet rose around them. Suddenly, a ditch appeared from nowhere, and water from the nearby stream flowed into it and mixed with the dirt and rocks. And soon the dirt around their feet began to form into blocks.

  “It’s the earth wizard!” Llew yelled.

  “We’re dead now!” exclaimed one of the others.

  With a gust of heat from the fire, Danijela hardened the blocks of dirt and rock around the men’s feet. In a matter of a few minutes, she had made sturdy walls—as tall and well-built as a house—around them, until only the tops of their heads could be seen.

  The men yelled out in fear and tried to push against her walls, but these held firm. There was no door or window in the walls. Madoc reached his hands to the top of the wall and pulled himself up. And Bakari could see the fear in his eyes. Madoc opened his mouth to say something, but Danijela waved her hands again, and a sudden gust came forth, carrying thick branches from the tall pine trees. Soon the branches flew down onto the top of the building, forming a roof. Then mud crept up the walls and flowed over the branches.

  Then Danijela brought a stick from the fire up over the top of the building and set it on top. This began drying out the mud and hardening the room. Then the pine greens began to smoke.

  “We can’t breathe!” yelled one of the men, but Bakari didn’t know which one.

  As Danijela blew out a breath, the fire went out and the smoke stopped. She threw her hands forward again, and a small hole was punctured through the structure toward the top.

  Bakari just sat there in amazement. He had never seen such control over the forces of the earth. Being a wizard of the earth in Arc was equivalent to being a battle wizard in Alaris. But, where someone like Alli controlled the battle around her with forces from the earth, this earth wizard controlled the earth itself. It was marvelous to behold.