Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga)

by Kristian Alva

  “Grandmother—please!” Elias’ chin trembled. “You’re scaring me!”

  “Elias—I’m sorry I can’t explain, but nothing can be done about it now. Go to your room, swiftly! Get grandfather’s cloak and your knapsack.”

  Elias ran to his room, pulling on his boots. He donned his warmest cloak and ran back out to the kitchen.

  “Grandmother?” Hot tears ran down his cheeks. Elias was afraid.

  Bang! Bang! The men pounded on the door. “Woman! Open the door. We’re here upon orders from the emperor!”

  “Be brave! Elias, here is some dried beef and your waterskin. Put it in your rucksack. Do you have the dragon stone?”

  “Yes. It’s here.” Elias unclasped his fist, and it was there, shining in his palm.

  “Hide it!”

  Elias obeyed, tucking the stone into his boot.

  Carina clasped his face in her hands. “I love you, my grandson. No matter what happens, remember that. Now go. Leave through the root cellar. Stay hidden until it is safe. You will know when. Then, run to the forest, and go straight to the Elder Willow! Do not look back, just keep running!”

  Bang! Bang! “Open up! Or we will break down the door!” the men yelled from outside, more forcefully this time.

  “I’m coming! Hold on!” shouted Carina, and then, whispering, “Elias—make haste! You must go!”

  Carina lifted a worn carpet in the kitchen, revealing a door. Elias slipped through the door in the floor and crawled down the rickety steps into the root cellar. He was underneath the cottage. Carina slammed the door shut. He heard his grandmother dragging the rug back over the opening. He tried to move, but fear kept him frozen in place.

  His eyes adjusted to the faint light coming in from cracks. Above him, he heard the front door open and loud footsteps—the soldier’s boots. He could see movement through a crack in the floor. Elias paused, listening closely.

  “Old woman—we heard you found a stone in the forest—where is it? Tell us quickly, and I might let you live.” It was a man’s voice—gruff and angry.

  “A stone?” Carina responded. “I don’t know anything about it. If I had something so precious, I would have sold it and bought myself some food! The emperor isn’t feeding me, after all.” Her voice did not betray a hint of fear.

  “You don’t know anything about it, eh? How about your grandson? I want to talk to him. Where is he?” asked the captain.

  “I don’t have a grandson. I live alone,” said Carina.

  “Do you take me for a fool, woman?” roared the captain.

  “Yes! You are a fool!” Carina screamed. “A pathetic fool! Are you going to attack an old woman? Get out—get out of my house!”

  Elias gasped, his hand going up to his mouth. He never heard his grandmother talk like this. Elias heard a dull thump and a crash.

  He heard a groan. It was his grandmother’s voice. They had thrown her to the ground—an old woman! These men were beasts. Elias swallowed a lump in his throat, but he kept silent.

  “Tell me where to find the boy—and the stone. Or I will kill you, woman. Now talk!” Elias heard the sounds of other men stomping into the cottage. Some of them were laughing.

  “It is true… I am an old woman.” Carina spat blood. “I am weak… I have been sick for a long time. But appearances can be deceiving. You have underestimated me, and that will be your doom.”

  The captain chuckled. “Is that so?” Two more soldiers stepped inside. They shut the door behind them, so the villagers couldn’t see what they planned to do.

  “Yes, it is so. I was simply waiting for all of you to arrive.” Carina’s hands glowed fire-red, and she jerked her fists in the air.

  “By Golka! Captain, she’s a mage!” one of the men shouted. “Stop her!”

  The door hinges melted shut, trapping all the men inside. “The door! It’s sealed shut! She’s cast a spell on it!” another cried.

  “Kill her!” The men descended on Carina, but it was too late. Her body had turned bluish-white. They touched her skin and their hands burned.

  “Augghh! She’s on fire!” the men screamed. The heat inside the cottage increased, and the air began to crackle.

  “Enjoy my hospitality, you fiends! Incêndio!” Carina roared, and the men burst into flames, screaming in agony. Their clothing, hair, and bodies burned in icy blue fire—the mage’s flame. The spell took enormous reserves of energy, and Carina collapsed, taking her last breath. The cabin filled with acrid smoke, and it started to creep into the root cellar.

  Smoke trickled into the cellar. Elias could no longer see anything. He stumbled and fell in the darkness, swearing as his hit the ground. The cellar was almost empty, but he knew there were some onions and turnips in the corner. He felt around in the darkness until he found the vegetables, and then added them to his pack. Holding back tears, he exited the cellar. “She sacrificed herself to save me.”

  Fragrant black smoke filled the air; all of Carina’s herbs were burning. Elias had cover to escape. He had to leave now—before the rest of the village discovered what was happening. As he reached the forest’s edge, he could hear dogs howling and villagers shouting. Behind him, his neighbors screamed, “Fire! Fire!” Elias ran, without looking back.

  ***

  Chapter 6: Thorin Ulfarsson

  Elias ran for many leagues without stopping, until he was far from the village. When his side ached, he continued to walk as fast as her could. The weather was miserable, and a slow drizzle of freezing rain began to fall. He walked deeper into the forest, staying off the paths.

  “I should have obeyed my grandmother the first time,” he thought. He would return the stone to the tree where he found it. After that, he would travel to the Elder Willow, as his grandmother had ordered him.

  Elias was grateful for his wool cloak, which kept him warm even when wet. Elias was also thankful for the weather, because the rain would help hide his tracks. He eventually reached the clearing where he had found the stone over a week ago. As he walked towards the tree, he was surprised to see a boy on the ground, face down.

  His curiosity overcame his fear, and Elias went to the boy’s side, tapping his shoulder.

  “Boy—are you alright?”

  The figure spun around in a flash and grabbed his arm. Elias was shocked to see that it wasn’t a boy, but a little man! A black-bearded dwarf, no more than four feet tall; his face wrinkled like an old potato. But none of his hair was streaked with gray. It was impossible to tell his age.

  His eyes were like bits of black coal. “Who are ye?” he asked.

  “I—I’m Elias! I’m here to… return something. I thought you were a boy.”

  He laughed. “I’m a dwarf! Haven’t you ever seen a dwarf before?”

  Elias shook his head. “No—never. Are you hurt? Why are you lying on the ground like that?”

  “I fell from the tree. I was tryin’ to reach inside. My old bones don’t move like they used to. Dwarves don’t belong in trees, I’ll tell you that much.” He groaned and touched his forehead, which had a quickly rising bump. “Blast! I can’t wait to be gone from this freezing, miserable forest and back to Mount Velik!” He got up with some difficulty, and extended his hand. “The name’s Thorin—Thorin Ulfarsson—what’s yours, boy?”

  “My name’s Elias,” he said cautiously. “What were you looking for? Can’t you see there’s a beehive?” The bees were buzzing slowly in the air, still coming in and out of the hole in the tree.

  Thorin’s eyes lit up and he laughed. “I’m not afraid of bees, boy. A little bee sting isn’t going to affect me much—there’s precious little for them to go after!”

  He had a point. The dwarf wore his long hair in a braid, and his beard was also pleated. Every patch of skin was covered with jet black hair—even his ears and knuckles. He was like a bear—only his nose, mouth, and tiny black eyes were exposed.

  “So, you’re Elias, eh? Why, you’re almost a full-grown man!” Thorin clapped him on the back so
hard that Elias coughed.

  “Yes... I had my fifteenth cycle. H-How do you know me?”

  “I don’t know you, boy. I knew your grandmother, Carina. She’s the one who sent me the message, and I came as soon as I could. I’m glad you’re here. It saves me the trip all the way to Persil.”

  “Message? What message? My grandmother didn’t tell me anything about you,” said Elias with suspicion. Then he sighed. “But—she didn’t tell me much of anything—she always had her secrets. Thorin…my grandmother is dead. Soldiers came to our village this morning. They forced their way into the cottage and attacked her. She died trying to save me.” Elias sat down, putting his head in his hands.

  “Ah, I’m sorry lad. That’s a shame. Carina was a fine woman.” Thorin patted Elias’ shoulder. “Your grandmother died an honorable death, boy. She was a friend of my people. She was fearless, too—one day I will tell you some stories. But there’s no time for sorrows. Do you have the dragon stone with you?”

  “Y-Yes,” admitted Elias, startled. “I was trying to put it back where I found it. My grandmother told me to return it days ago, but I disobeyed her. I tried to sell the stone last week. The man I tried to sell it to—he’s a bad man. I’m certain that’s how the soldiers found out about it.” Elias’ voice cracked. “It’s my fault she’s dead.”

  “Now, now… there’s no reason to be blamin’ yourself, lad. You couldn’t have known.”

  “I’m just trying to be rid of it—the stone has been bad luck since I found it.” Elias pulled the stone out of his pocket and showed him. Thorin’s eyebrows went up, but he did not touch the stone.

  “Aye, that’s a true dragon stone. Your grandmother asked me to come and get it—take it back to Mount Velik for safekeepin’. The plan was for me to take the stone back to our vaults. But I’m guessin’ our plans have changed.”

  “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never traveled outside Darkmouth Forest.”

  “Well, it looks like we’ll be travelling companions, then,” said Thorin.

  “Okay.” Elias looked visibly relieved. “I can’t go back to the village… probably not ever.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you’re right. The reward for a dragon stone is tempting—the emperor offers a hundred gold crowns to anyone who brings him one. Times are bad, and neighbors can’t be trusted when they’re starvin’.”

  “A hundred crowns!” Elias gasped. It was a vast fortune. “I should have just taken the stone to the emperor!”

  “No, boy. Be glad you didn’t. It’s a fine bit o’ coin, but the emperor would spit you alive. You can’t enjoy a reward if you’re rottin’ in the ground!” Thorin examined the stone carefully in Elias’ palm. “Yup. A true dragon stone that is. Hide it securely. We can’t afford to lose it now.”

  Elias shook his head. “Can you tell me what’s going on? I don’t understand any of this.”

  “Don’t worry, boy. I’ll explain it to you in due time. Are you sure that your grandmother killed all the soldiers?”

  “Yes—I‘m sure. The whole house went up in flames. No one escaped.”

  “Good. That means it’s safe for us to make camp. It will be at least another four days until old Vosper can get more soldiers up to Persil, and we’ll be long gone by then. Your granny was always thorough, I’ll tell you that! What a woman! May her spirit live forever in the fields of Darthnell, enjoying all the spoils of the afterlife.” Thorin made a circular motion on his chest, and withdrew a gold amulet from around his neck. It was a pendant, set with tiny rubies, and it bore the image of a claw hammer. He kissed it, before tucking it back into his tunic.

  “What is that?” asked Elias, pointing to the pendant.

  Thorin held it up proudly. “This is the symbol of my clan, Marretaela. My people are honest folk; though not the biggest clan. We can talk more about this later. Right now, let’s go make camp. There’s a secluded cave a few miles north of here. We shouldn’t stay out in the open—there’s no sense in taking unnecessary risks. The sun will be going down soon, and we could have a fire started before then. It will be freezing tonight and we will need to stay warm. Plus, I’m not one for cold food. I caught a rabbit earlier that we can enjoy for dinner tonight.”

  Elias nodded. “There are good mushroom beds nearby. It will only take me a few minutes to gather some. They will go well with the rabbit.”

  “Aye. I’ll help you, boy.” They both walked to Elias’ favorite mushroom spot and collected handfuls of wild mushrooms, which Thorin wrapped into a piece of cloth and tied to his belt. “Let’s go now, before it gets much later. My mount, Duster, is grazing nearby. I’ll go get him.” Thorin returned a few minutes later with a sturdy grey pony. Elias reached out and patted his neck, and the animal responded by nudging him gently.

  “He seems good-natured.”

  “Aye. Duster has been my favorite for years. He’s wasn’t bred for speed—he was bred for endurance. He’s as sharp as a tack and doesn’t tire easily. The dwarves breed the best ponies and sheep in all of Durn. Our animals have vigor and fortitude, just like us!” Thorin slapped the pony’s side proudly. Duster responded with a loud whinny. The pony’s legs were shorter than normal, and thick; they were knotted with muscle.

  “Do you know how to ride, lad?”

  “Yes,” answered Elias. “We owned a horse a few years ago, but Carina sold him because we needed money. I learned how to ride bareback; we couldn’t afford a saddle.”

  “That’s fine. Tomorrow, we’ll head for Jutland. We’ll purchase a horse for you there.”

  “Thorin, my grandmother told me that I should go to the Elder Willow. Do you know where it is?” asked Elias.

  “Yes. I suspected she might have told you to go there.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “Not really sure,” Thorin said, looking at the ground. He cleared his throat. “The Elder Willow is a magical tree, and the groves surrounding the willow are guarded by various spells and tree sprites. It’s not an easy journey, and the grove is considered a holy place. If Carina told you to go, then we should try to go. The Elder Willow is a bit out of our way, so we’ll travel to Jutland first.”

  “Okay… I just wish I understood what was going on.”

  “Everything will make sense in time. In the meantime, you should collect some kindling for our fire. Gather as much as you can. It will be cold tonight.”

  They were going to Jutland! Elias was excited. Jutland was the largest city in the Elburgian Mountains. He heard the village merchants talking about it often. There was a large marketplace, and many wonderful sights. Elias’ grandmother used to trade there, before her health failed. Elias had only been there once—and that was many years ago, when he was a child. He still remembered many of the sights and sounds.

  Both started walking east, with Thorin leading the way. Elias kept himself busy collecting kindling for the fire. The dwarf hummed an old war song, but otherwise didn’t say much.

  After a short while, they reached the cave. Elias would have missed it if Thorin hadn’t pointed it out. It was well hidden. The cave entrance was covered by shrubbery. “Here it is,” said Thorin. “I camped here last night. It’s a wee openin’—you’ll have to crawl in—but it’s larger inside. It’s a good spot, and warm. We’re far from the path, and concealed from the wind. We’ll sleep comfortably enough. You must get a good night’s sleep because we’ll be up before dawn. I’m going to get Duster settled, and I’ll be back.”

  Elias crouched down and crawled into the opening. Once he got inside, he was pleased to see that the cave was large enough for him to stand, and it was roomy enough for two to sleep. Elias started to build a fire, laying the kindling in a little pile by the cave entrance. “Incêndio!” he said quietly, and the kindling caught fire. Thorin came back just in time to catch Elias using the spell.

  “Using magic, eh?” said Thorin, as he poked his head into the cave opening. “You should learn how to build a fire properly, without magic. Magic is just a crutch.” />
  “You surprised me. My grandmother used to say that, too. She was a healer, but she rarely healed her own cuts and bruises. She said it was good for the body to heal itself; otherwise, it might forget how to do it.”

  “Your grandmother was a wise woman.”

  “Grandmother always told me to keep my powers hidden. I do know how to build a fire without magic. I use magic because it’s faster. Usually I hide it, but…. well… don’t dwarves use magic, too?”

  “Aye. We have our own spellcasters, although the mageborn gift is rare in our people. They are healers, mostly, but we also have some metalsmiths that can forge magical weaponry. Our enchanted blades are unmatched. Even more powerful than elvish swords.” Thorin grabbed his pipe and stuffed it with smokeleaf.

  Elias remembered the dagger that his grandmother had given him, and he pulled it out of his waistband. “My grandmother gave me this. I’ve never seen another one like it. Did the dwarves make it?”

  Thorin examined the little dagger carefully. “Aye. This is a dwarvish blade. It’s enchanted, too. It’s a rare thing to see a human with a blade like this. I know the story behind it. Would you like to hear it?”

  “Yes! My grandmother hardly ever talked about her past.”

  “Alright, but first, help me with dinner. Then I’ll tell you all about it. I’ll find some branches to make a spit for the rabbit.”

  “Okay, I’ll cut the mushrooms and dress the rabbit for cooking.” Elias chopped the mushrooms, skewered them, and placed them on hot coals to cook. He gutted and cleaned the rabbit, burying the entrails outside, far away from the cave entrance. He didn’t want to encourage any night time scavengers. Thorin came back with some sturdy branches, and lashed together a simple spit to cook the rabbit. A few minutes later, everything was sizzling over the fire, and Elias settled down to listen.