Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga)

by Kristian Alva

  Elias heard Frogar’s quick intake of breath. Frogar was a practiced negotiator, but even he could not hide his surprise. “Let me see it, boy.” His wrinkled hand reached out to grab it.

  “No!” Elias snatched it back. Frogar’s eyebrows went up.

  “Don’t touch it—I don’t trust you.”

  The old man’s eyes narrowed. “I need to touch it—to make sure that’s it’s real. Otherwise, how can I offer you a fair price?” He leered, revealing yellowed teeth.

  “I might be a boy, but I’m not a fool. You know the stone is real. If you want it, offer me a fair price right now. Otherwise, I’ll travel to Jutland and sell the stone there. In Jutland, there are even greedier merchants than you!”

  Frogar scowled. “Why you… little snot-nosed bugger!”

  “I don’t want to argue! What is your price?” Elias was starting to feel nauseated. His throat was dry, choked by the dusty air.

  Frogar shook his head, and his face broke into a wicked sneer. “You’re nothing but a young fool! You have no idea what you have. I do not want your dragon stone, stupid boy.”

  Elias’ mouth dropped open. He hadn’t expected that response from the old man.

  “That stone is a curse. No one will buy it. Not here, not in Jutland—not anywhere. It will bring you nothing but misery. Now get out of my shop before I throw you out.” His voice rose to a shriek at the end, and tobacco-laced spittle flew from his mouth.

  “I-I don’t believe you. I’m going to sell it and make a nice profit, you’ll see!”

  Elias pocketed the stone and walked back outside into the snow. He looked back, and saw Frogar observing him through a filthy window. He was laughing—a cackling, unholy laugh, that echoed down the road. The hair on the back of Elias’ neck rose and his heart filled with fear.

  Elias ran all the way home.

  ***

  Chapter 4: The Death Sands

  Dozens of soldiers lined up like dominos in the desert heat. Archers patrolled the lookout towers. Parthos was a meticulously planned city, designed in layers whittled from the mountainside. The city was a fortress, with successive safety walls and defensive bulwarks. It backed up against a mountain, and was surrounded by sheer cliffs on either side.

  Everything in Parthos ran with a crazed efficiency that ensured its continued survival. The city was built on a natural spring that ran year-round. There was a natural oasis nearby, and it even allowed animals some limited grazing around the city perimeter.

  An aqueduct system, combined with mandatory rainwater collection tanks on every roof, assured that city’s inhabitants always had enough water. The homes inside the city walls were small, with flat roofs, designed to save energy. The mud-brick homes weren’t much larger than sheds, but they were functional, staying cool during the day and warm during the chilly desert nights. Some citizens even lived in remote caves on the mountain, doubling as permanent look-outs. Heavily guarded underground tunnels led to catacombs stocked with provisions—the city always operated as though it was under siege.

  Guardsmen stood alert at the city gates, minding their posts in silence. They rotated every hour to drink and cool down. The walls were never unattended. There were also soldiers on mounted patrol; the men rode camels instead of horses. The finest camel breeders worked in Parthos, and nomadic tribes from the Death Sands ventured there to improve their stock.

  The city’s camels were well-trained and suited to the dry environment. The animals could go several days without food or water, and could live up to fifty years. The camels retain water so efficiently that their dung could be burned almost immediately after it is excreted. The dung was a substitute for firewood in the desert.

  Camels are intelligent and fast, able to run without stopping for many leagues. The king’s camel herd numbered into the hundreds, supplying his people with meat, milk, and fuel.

  Inside the city walls, the streets bustled with activity. Most of the inhabitants were involved in trading or smuggling, and Parthos was recognized for its busy open market. The narrow streets were crowded with street merchants. Dealers, camel traders, and nomads all came to Parthos to buy and trade goods. On one corner, a merchant sold mesquite pods, a native desert food that could be ground into a hearty flour. Another sold prepared cactus leaves, sliced and ready to be cooked. Even more sold camel milk and yogurt, which was always abundant and nutritious. Fermented camel’s milk (called shubat) was sold all over the city.

  There also a few outsiders; ebony-skinned nomads selling their wares before heading out to the desert again in the evening. They sold bone knives, saddles, dried goods, and beaded leather clothing. Their women sold intricate baskets, hand-woven so tightly that they could hold water.

  The city was alert… but at peace. And overhead, observing everything, flew a Dragon Rider.

  It was Sela and her carnelian dragon, Brinsop. The dragon’s rust-colored scales glittered in the blistering sun. Sela’s dragon was full-grown, and as a carnelian dragon, she was the smallest of the species. But she was still an impressive sight. When standing on her hind legs, Brinsop was over fifteen feet tall, and weighed more than the largest horse. Her scales matched the color of the gem at her throat. Sela, her rider, wore the gem’s counterpart proudly on her neck, hung from a thick silver chain. It was the only jewelry she wore.

  “Sela, how are you holding up? We have been out here for hours already, and it seems hotter than normal today.” Brinsop communicated with Sela using the dragon stone. To an observer, a dragon’s speech sounded like grunts and snorts, but Sela understood the dragon’s speech perfectly.

  “Perhaps we should go back. I am getting uncomfortable in this heat, and my waterskin is empty. Let us return to the castle, rest for a moment and eat.”

  Brinsop turned, flapping her wings in the stagnant air. She circled and landed on the castle ramparts. There were two other dragons there. It was Orshek and Karela, the orphaned clutchmates. They sunned themselves lazily, rubbing their black hides ecstatically on the warm earth. Their mother and other siblings had been killed by dragon hunters less than a few months ago. Orshek and Karela survived because they had hatched weeks early.

  The hatchlings had been exploring inside their birthing cave when the dragon hunters descended on their family. Orshek and Karela could hear their mother shrieking with fear and agony, and as they rushed back to the nest, their mother sent them a desperate telepathic message, “Stop! Stay hidden! Stay silent! Do not show yourselves! Stay hidden! Stay silent!”

  The siblings huddled together in terror, hiding while the dragon hunters slaughtered their mother and the rest of the hatchlings. When the dragon hunters searched the rest of the cave, the hatchlings concealed themselves. They escaped detection, but were too afraid to leave the cave. Instead, they struggled in the darkness for weeks, hunting mice and eating insects. They could smell the rotting bodies of their mother and siblings. At one point, they heard vultures and other scavengers fighting over the carcasses.

  Weeks passed. Orshek and Karela existed in darkness, surviving on bugs and rats. Sela and Brinsop found them by chance, while exploring the outskirts of the Death Sands. The hatchlings were so emaciated and skittish that Sela had to cast a slumbering spell upon them and drag them out of the cave by their feet. Brinsop carried them back to Parthos one at a time.

  In Parthos, they were treated and rehabilitated. The black dragons were considered juveniles now, but their bodies were underdeveloped. Onyx dragons are traditionally one of the largest dragon species, usually growing larger than a house. But after weeks of malnutrition and lack of sunlight, the hatchlings’ growth was stunted. Eventually, they would mature enough to bear the weight of a rider, but they would never develop to the size of a normal black dragon.

  Orshek and Karela became attached to Brinsop, the dragon who saved them. In time, they even started calling her “mother.” Even now, they played on the castle roof because they preferred to keep Brinsop within their sights.

  “Look at you
two,” growled Brinsop affectionately. “Playing like baby hatchlings while the rest of us labor in the heat!”

  “But mother, we await your return,” said Orshek. “Remember—you promised to take us hunting for wild ostrich.”

  “Orshek, I never promised to take you hunting for ostrich. I told you and your sister to go hunting—by yourselves. I want both of you to go out and practice hunting. You know that I cannot go with you; I have my duties here with Sela. Stop squandering away your time. You don’t have to go far, but do try to catch something larger than a rabbit for a change.”

  “Why won’t you come with us?” pouted Karela, who was the shyer one. She, more than her brother, bore the emotional wounds of their isolation. When Brinsop went away on a scouting mission for a few days, Karela refused to eat.

  “When I was a hatchling, dragons half your age were already hunting on their own!” said Brinsop, exasperated.

  “Karela, please understand, we cannot leave the castle when we are on watch.” responded Sela. Sela communicated with Karela and Orshek using her dragon stone. The young dragons were too inexperienced to block Sela’s communication. They were forced to listen to her. They both sulked, but didn’t say anything else.

  “Sela and I are on duty for the next four days. Why don’t you ask Charlight and Hanko if you can go with them? They are planning a hunt this evening,” suggested Brinsop. Brinsop tried to encourage the adolescent dragons to explore the countryside, make friends with the other dragons, and enjoy hunting prey, but it was difficult. They were still dependent on Brinsop and Sela for everything.

  “We don’t want to go with Charlight and Hanko. They’re so bossy!” said Orshek.

  Shlickt! Brinsop swatted the two with her tail. “Stop complaining and go do something useful! Don’t just lie here terrorizing the guards!” Brinsop snorted smoke and rose up on her hind legs, demonstrating that she was serious. The little dragons frowned and scuttled away. They looked back a few times, trying to stoke some pity. Brinsop held her gaze steadily, and pointed out towards the desert. Once the young dragons reached the end of the wall, they took flight, exploring the desert by themselves.

  “Finally!” snorted Brinsop. “Those two grow more stubborn every day,”

  “They won’t go far.”

  “I know. But it’s a start.”

  “They are obstinate because you spoil them. One minute you bellow at them, and the next minute you coddle them,” said Sela.

  Brinsop sniffed, but she did not argue. “I worry about them. They are not growing normally. Karela is so fragile, and Orshek is overprotective of his sister. They are fearful. There are so many unresolved issues. If they cannot overcome them, they will never be able to take a rider, or even defend themselves properly.”

  Sela patted Brinsop’s side. “They are alive. Let us be thankful for that. They may be the only two black dragons left in the kingdom. We are lucky to have them.”

  “Don’t misunderstand me—I am thankful. I just wish we could do more. There are so few of us, and the ones who survive are all… impaired in some way. The emperor has decimated my kin. How many survive in the wild? A dozen? Maybe less. There are fewer mating females every year.”

  “I know it is discouraging, Brinsop. But we must continue to fight. We will save as many as we can.” Sela talked soothingly to her dragon. Then her stomach growled.

  “You are hungry; let us stop this depressing talk and eat. We have dawdled long enough.” Brinsop grabbed a few live chickens and swallowed them whole. The king kept live chickens on the fortress walls mainly to feed the dragons. They were cheap to raise and also laid eggs, so it was a good trade-off. Sela found two eggs hidden in a crevice and cracked them onto a flat stone. Solar cooking was easy in the desert, and it saved precious fuel. The eggs bubbled up and cooked quickly. She scraped the steaming eggs off the stone with a knife and ate them. Then she filled her waterskin at the spigot, and rested in the shade for a few minutes.

  Just then, King Mitca walked up to the roof. Sela and Brinsop gave slight bows. Before the war, Dragon Riders bowed to no one, not even the emperor. But now most dragons and their riders bowed to King Mitca as a sign of fealty and respect. His kingdom was the last refuge for dragons and their riders—the only place they could live in relative safety. More than anyone else, he was responsible for the dragons’ survival. Without Mitca, it is likely that every dragon would have been killed by the emperor.

  “Sela, Brinsop.” He nodded, acknowledging their gesture of respect. “I have news that I must share with all the riders privately. Call the others back to the city. This is important for everyone to hear.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Sela responded. Sela closed her eyes and touched Brinsop to augment her power. Telepathic communication was not one of her strengths, especially at long distances. She focused, reaching out with her mind to all the dragons in the realm. There were six dragons in Parthos, only four of which had riders. Sela and Brinsop had been bound together the longest.

  Charlight and Hanko were next. Charlight was also a carnelian dragon; a female. Hanko was a human rider. Then there was Duskeye and Tallin, the wild pair. Duskeye was a male sapphire dragon, and his rider, Tallin, was a rare dwarf half-ling. Tallin was half dwarf and half human. The youngest rider was an elf half-ling—a female named Riona. Her male dragon was called Stormshard. Stormshard was also a carnelian dragon.

  Sela instinctively grasped the dragon stone around her neck. Her mind reached out; tendrils of thought streaked across the desert. She stood, trance-like, while searching for the minds of the others. It was always difficult to find the other riders, mainly because their minds were so guarded. They had learned to protect themselves from magical attacks. Sela found Riona and Stormshard first, sparring on one of the rocky outcroppings near the city.

  “Riona, Stormshard—please return to the castle. The king has called us all back for an urgent meeting. Do you know where the others are?” Sela’s neck veins bulged under the strain. Although she had decades of magical training, she could only communicate telepathically with difficulty. The farther the distance, the greater the exertion. Even with Brinsop’s considerable assistance, it was a struggle for her.

  “We hear and obey, mistress. Charlight and Hanko are in the north, searching for wild dragons. Duskeye and Tallin flew south, hunting ostrich with the black fledglings. We saw them pass some time ago; they invited us to hunt with them.”

  “Please contact them and tell them to return to the city at once.”

  “As you command, mistress.” Riona and Stormshard broke contact abruptly. It was jarring, but Sela and Brinsop were used to it. Riona and Stormshard were both young and inexperienced, but Riona was a powerful telepath. Contacting the other dragon riders would be easy for her. Eventually, Riona could become the most powerful of all the Dragon Riders in Parthos. Sela exhaled and sat down for a moment to gather her strength. “Whew!” Her head was pounding from the effort.

  “Did you find them all?” asked the king.

  “Yes. They are all nearby. Riona will call the rest of them back. They will all be here within the hour.”

  “Excellent. Come with me. We have much to discuss.”

  “What about the aerial watch?” asked Sela.

  “I will double the palace guards in the towers and put everyone on high alert. This news cannot wait. I need to pick up a scroll in my private quarters, and then I will meet all of you in the fortress cathedral.” The king turned and walked briskly down the stairs.

  “I wonder what this is all about,” said Brinsop.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe the scouts found something interesting.” Sela mounted Brinsop for the short flight to the cathedral.

  “It’s been months since King Mitca has called a meeting like this, so the news must be important. He’s smart enough not to bother us with little particulars,” said Brinsop.

  The cathedral was on the lowest level of the city. It was dedicated to Golka, the goddess of war and defense. A s
tatue of the black-skinned goddess stood at the entrance. She had a flaming sword in each hand. Two of her eyes were in the front, but Golka also had an eye in the back, so that no one could ever attack her from behind.

  The cathedral was usually filled with worshippers. The cathedral was one of the only places in the cramped city that was spacious enough for all the dragons and their riders. Mitca’s guards had emptied the building and searched it hours before in preparation for the king and his riders. For this and other sensitive tasks, the king always used his private guard. They would all meet discreetly.

  Sela and Brinsop arrived first, and entered the church gates without opposition. Seven heavily armed guards stood at the entrance. They nodded to the rider and her dragon, but otherwise did not move. Sela marveled at these men. Their full-body tattoos identified them as members of the king’s personal honor guard. The ornate tattoos were not merely for decoration; they were comprised of ancient symbols—protective inscriptions to ward off hexes, curses, and other evil spells.

  Mitca’s private sentinels were all descendants or relatives of Fivan, the soldier that had saved him as a child. Fivan guarded Mitca throughout his life, and even helped build and design the city of Parthos. The tale of Fivan’s death was well-known throughout the city. Mitca never let anyone forget it.

  Fivan insisted in sampling all of Mitca’s food before the king would eat it, in order to prevent a poisoning attempt. Mitca was impetuous and brash, and, like many young princes, he thought Fivan was too cautious. Mitca playfully called him “mother hen”—even clucking when he came into the room.

  But Fivan’s caution was well-founded. He knew that the Vosper’s treachery was boundless. In the end, Fivan died protecting his master.

  Starfruit was a rare treat; it perished quickly and had to be smuggled in from Southern Durn. It was prohibitively expensive, and Mitca craved the fruit often. Fivan insisted on eating part of the starfruit.