Called by Dragon's Song (Return of the Dragonborn Book 3)

by N. M. Howell

  Oren remained among the dragonborn in the Hot Salts of Mithraldia. Not a day went by that he didn’t worry about his Queen and princess so far away, and about all the dragonborn and the terrible fight they face with the Dead. More than that, his experience in the Church of Stone and Sea haunted him. It was a very rare thing for a dragonborn to be overcome by tricks, enchanted stone or not. He questioned his ability to command his dragon, to protect his people. He knew that Andie could not always be around to watch out for him. Or for anyone else. He spent a great deal of time preparing the dragonborn for their exodus and fortifying the mountaintop, so that even though they must eventually leave, they would still have a home to come back to.

  In Taline, Stefan prepared himself and his city for the attack he knew would come. They had only just been able to breathe again, finally rid of the University’s theft and terrorism. Now they found themselves plunged right back into life and death circumstances. But Stefan was no fool, and he had been around long enough to know how to defend himself with the utmost fury. He left no stone unturned in his search for the threats to his city, and he made sure of every bit of his considerable knowledge to make the city as safe as possible. As a personal favor to Andie, he had increased security measures on the seventy-seventh floor of The Letter and he went over himself every afternoon to ensure that Carmen was protected.

  Raesh practiced controlling his magic. While he did improve some, there was only so much control a pearlblood could hope for. His biggest accomplishment was finding other pearlbloods in western Noelle. There weren’t many—in fact, there were likely less than a hundred in the entire world—but they were strong. They appeared to have been practicing their magic in secret. Raesh found comfort in being surrounded by similar people, but he never stopped thinking of his father and how much he had to live up to. He knew there was nothing he could have done, but in saving other lives he could make his father proud.

  Classes continued as usual and the professors were careful to keep the secret. The students seemed to truly love everything they were learning and—besides the usual lethargy, tardiness, and excuses that plagued every campus—the new and improved university was running better than ever. Andie and Raesh’s classes were going well and Lymir’s leadership steered the institution in a new and promising direction. If it weren’t for the threat of impending doom, life might just have been perfect.

  Chapter Seven

  “You’ve made us wait for days,” Ashur said. “I understand you don’t know us or our agenda, but I would think the least you could do is show us some common courtesy. We’re here to offer you the help you so desperately need.”

  “Forgive me, Ashur, but—”

  “Where I come from, Olthrion, the lesser address the superior by their proper rank. Call me commander.”

  “And where I come from, such disrespect can lead one rather quickly to an early deposition. As I was saying, we made you wait not out of pettiness, but security. It would be foolish to pretend that we were afraid of you, but we do nothing without knowing who we’re dealing with and what they’re capable of. We know who you are. What are you capable of?”

  As he turned from Olthrion, Ashur grinned. He motioned for his battalion to stand aside. He tensed his body and feelt the power of his magic being amplified and focused by his new armor. He raised his hand and then slammed it into the ground. The moment his palm collided with the soil, an explosion flowed through his hand and split the ground for fifty yards. It was so wide and deep that several of the gargantuan trees lost their balance and topple over inside.

  “That’s just a taste of what I can do. My entire battalion is powerful and highly trained in combat. And more than anything else, we hate the dragonborn.”

  “Do you?”

  It wasn’t Olthrion who spoke, but another, deeper voice. Half of the battalion took a step back just at the sound of it. The man made his way to the front of the group and stood directly across from Ashur. He was tall, wrapped in impressive muscle, and his hair and beard were long and sleek. He carried no weapon, and yet he seemed more dangerous than any other person Ashur had met.

  “You must be the King,” Ashur said.

  “There are no Kings here, commander. We follow the strongest and I have been the strongest for a very long time. My people have followed my lead for nearly a century.”

  “That’s impossible,” Ashur said, taking a closer look at him. “You can’t be more than thirty years old. Men don’t live that long.”

  “But I am not a man. Even if I look like one. My race is very old and very powerful. We’ve made it our mission to be invisible and there are precious few people living who know what we are and what we want. I’m curious as to how you know of us.”

  “Chancellor Myamar Mharú. Before he died he told me that his family had been keeping up with your people since the beginning of the first age. The secret was passed down through generations in case you were ever needed. He would have come himself, but he was murdered by the dragonborn. I know what you want and how you can obtain it. An army grows in the north that will march on the city of Arvall. We won’t be able to make it back in time for the battle, but that’s not what matters. By the time we get there the army will most likely have failed, but the dragonborn and the city will be weak. And from there we’ll crush them.”

  “I cannot claim to dislike the strategy. Letting the eager fools go in first to weaken the foundation and die in the process, and then you and your battalion come in to knock down the house the dragons have built. Admirable. But I think you underestimate the men marching from the Church.”

  “Do you honestly think a group of poor, half-trained guerilla fighters can really band together and take out Arvall and the dragons? They have the numbers, but I’ve fought the dragonborn. It’ll take more than numbers. It’ll take fierce training and unimaginable power.”

  “Which is why I sent a dozen of my greatest warriors there months ago. By the time that army leaves the Church they will be worthy of a battle with those blood traitors. Make no mistake, commander, my people and I have hoped for the day when the dragonborn would return and be within our reach again. We’ve left nothing to chance, not even you. You think it was your idea to come here? I had spies slip information about my people into your Chancellor’s office. All we had to do was wait for his greed and corruption to engulf him. He sought us out long before his death. I promised him an end to the dragonborn in exchange for his battalion and his resources. You didn’t seek me out, young Ashur. You’re here because you were promised to me, because you’re part of a much larger and older game than you realize. Did you really think that fool Mharú would have been capable of all the things he accomplished if I hadn’t given him the ideas? Who do you think convinced that elitist, xenophobic Church to harbor the army in the first place?”

  “You’re saying you’ve had a hand in everything that’s happened?”

  “Nothing has happened since the dragonborn stepped out of that portal that I haven’t known about. We were the ones who told the factions to join as one.”

  “Then I’m in the right place. But I know something you don’t.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I know where the dragonborn home is.”

  A guttural breath travels through the man, Olthrion, and all their people. The battalion members looked up and around them, finally noticing they were surrounded. The people were not just in front of them, they were in the trees, peering down with fierce frowns and keen eyes. They were impressively built, agile, strong, men and women alike. More than that, the people were surprisingly beautiful. In fact, it was hard to look away from them. They were wild and fierce and terrifying, but also breathtakingly perfect. Even the silver-haired elders had no problem hanging among the branches.

  “Now you have my attention, commander,” the man said.

  “Your people go by many names and countless legends follow you. I know now I wouldn’t have found you unless you wanted me to. This isn’t even where yo
u live, is it? Just another smokescreen.”

  “Bravo.”

  “The truth is that no one really knows anything about you anymore. You’re nothing more than a myth. I’ll gladly give you the location of the dragonborn and then follow you into this great war, but I need to know you can deliver your end of the deal. I know you’re intelligent, cunning, intimidating, and apparently great at aging well, but what can you do for us?”

  The man didn’t look offended, but rather like he was glad to have been asked to exhibit his skill. His fellows cleared the space around him and he smiled.

  “We are an ancient race, filled with the might of gods and beasts.”

  He ran to a tree almost too quick for Ashur to see and smashed his fist in a swiping strike, cutting the tree in half with absolute ease.

  “We are the terrors between night and day that frighten time itself and break the hands of fate.”

  He leapt into the air and kicked his feet against the tree trunk, knocking the tree backward and flipping through the air, catching himself on another tree by punching his hand through the bark.

  “We are strong, agile, fast, our senses keener than all the fiercest natural predators combined. We can hear conversations a whole town away, see through two kilometers of darkness, smell blood across mountains, feel the weather change even before the clouds change. Nothing we hunt escapes.”

  He released the tree and landed with a force that shook the ground.

  “We live for centuries. We are the true children of the dragon. The beasts that bred us can no more hurt us than they can the blood traitors. If a dragon were to breathe fire on me this very moment, I would not even feel the flames. We are the greatest threat to the world. The true question is not whether we can deliver, but whether you can keep up.”

  “Impressive,” Ashur said.

  “We find you impressive as well, commander. We would not have invited you here if we didn’t. I kept a close eye on your training and the battle in Arvall. Your strategy, intelligence, and leadership are impressive. Your combat and magic are remarkable.”

  “Speaking of magic, where’s yours?”

  “Don’t worry. We shall have it soon enough.”

  “I think we’re on the same page. With my battalion and your abilities, I think the dragonborn, the traitors, are as good as dead. Only one thing is left. What do I call you?”

  “My name... is Beladorion.”

  “We need medical attention. Now!”

  Andie heard the yelling from Victory. She told her students to stay put and rushed to the hallway to see what had happened.

  “We couldn’t take him to any hospital in the city. We were afraid of spreading panic.”

  Andie finally made it to the commotion and saw who is talking. It was Sarinda. Andie hadn’t seen her since the day of the explosion in the Hot Salts. Raesh told her that Sarinda had been on assignment in the Dark Tundra, and, since she left there, no one had heard from her. Andie felt like hugging her, but Sarinda was one of four people carrying a bloodied body and there were more bodies following. They headed down the hall and through the main hub until they reached the medical wing. The doctors came out and took the bodies in. Sarinda turned to Andie and gave a little sight of relief. They threw their arms around each other.

  “Come with me,” Andie said.

  She led Sarinda back outside and over to a secluded area where they could have some privacy. Sarinda was still breathing irregularly and sweating, but she looked as if she’d be fine.

  “Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor?” Andie asked.

  “No, just a few scrapes and bruises. I was lucky. We never saw them coming, Andie.”

  “Saw who?”

  “I still don’t know. It was a small phalanx, roughly a hundred soldiers, probably a scouting party. Is there something going on I missed?”

  “We’re about to be at war, Sarinda. There’s a massive army marching down from the north right now. Didn’t you see them?”

  “No, we only saw those hundred.”

  “Tell me everything that happened.”

  “We left the Dark Tundra two months ago. We’d chased the battalion all over the north of Noelle, almost across the pole to the Old World, and finally defeated them. Or at least the faction we’d been chasing. We left the cold and came by ship down along the coast, but we were delayed because of icebergs in the Pauper’s Sea and attacks from marauders. That’s why we’ve been out of touch for so long because they destroyed our communications. We finally got free and then went full steam ahead to make up the time. Near the Church of Stone and Sea we saw a lot of movement, but we just figured it was another one of their mass rituals. We hit the Spider Sea and decided to dock in King’s Harbor. But as soon as we stepped off the ship, we came under attack. They had weapons we’d never seen or heard of before. It was a bloodbath, but we killed three times as many of them. There were only about thirty of us, but we defeated them, barely. We had no idea what was happening.”

  “Did you get all of them?”

  “All except one. Andie, I don’t think he was human. He was strong and fast. He moved unlike anyone I’ve ever seen before. It was like he was driven by pure hate. We almost had him pinned down, but he escaped. He said something odd.”

  “What?”

  “He said he wouldn’t die before he’d killed his share of blood traitors. I don’t know if he was crazy or if he was playing a part in a larger game than we realized.”

  “Sarinda, that was no fluke. That was an advanced party for the army that’s marching on us. They must’ve thought you were an advanced party, too. And if that man was who I think he was, he wasn’t crazy. He’s one of the Beautiful Dead.”

  “The what?”

  “They’re the other race descended from dragons and they want to kill every dragonborn and drink our blood so they can obtain our magic. And the Church of Stone and Sea isn’t just a neutral spectator anymore. They almost killed me and Oren, and now they’re giving all their resources to an army of thousands that’s coming to kill every last soul in Arvall City.”

  “I see I’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

  Andie and Sarinda talked for a long time while they waited for news. Sarinda received some attention for her wounds. The half dozen other fighters who survived were being treated somewhere in the hospital, but their condition wasn’t critical. Andie sent one of the professors to take over her classes for the day. Eventually, the doctor came to speak to them.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “We did as much as we could, but we simply don’t have the knowledge to treat this kind of damage. We might have been able to do something if they’d arrived sooner, but by the time they arrived the symbiote had already taken to great a hold, I’m sorry.”

  “The what?” Sarinda asked.

  “The symbiote. It’s not fully alive or sentient, but the magic behind it is formidable. The sand has been animated so that it gets in an orifice or laceration and expands as it moves deeper. It absorbed their blood until their hearts stopped.”

  “The sand?” Andie asked.

  “Yes. Red sand. It was hard to tell at first, because of all the blood, but it’s definitely red sand.”

  The doctor turned to leave and Andie and Sarinda immediately ran down the hallway to the operating room. The sight of their fallen comrades lying withered and lifeless made them both halt in place, their bodies unmoving yet their minds racing wildly. Andie could barely comprehend what she was seeing.

  While the limbs on the bodies before them were wasted and the skin hanging loose, their midsections were grotesquely swollen where the sand accumulated and soaked up all their blood. Sarinda’s tears began to fall as she moved closer to the bodies. These were the people she’d traveled and fought with for months. Andie was close to tears herself as she leaned to inspect the wounds. Some of them looked as if they were cut or stabbed first and the sand got in afterwards, and some looked like they were wounded by the sand itself. But there was no mistaking what has happened.r />
  “I’ll kill them all,” Andie said.

  “What?” Sarinda asked.

  “The Church. They’ve figured out how to weaponize the sand.”

  Chapter Eight

  Later in the evening, after yet another meeting, Andie stood beside Saeryn in silence, thinking of all the ways the world they knew could end. They stood in the Archives, staring down into the portal that brought the dragonborn to the future. This portal has done so much for them and might still do a great deal of trouble.

  “I still believe we should destroy this thing,” Andie said. “Even the University’s founding families were afraid of it. That should tell us all we need to know.”

  “I fear it, too, Andie. If we are not careful we may be sent back through this doorway just like we came from it. I fear, too, that Sarinda’s run-in with the army’s advance party will only make them march on us faster.”

  “Definitely. Now that they know they can not only stand their ground, but kill us, I don’t see why they wouldn’t want to speed up. They’ve been planning this for months. We’re unprepared. They have an army of thousands and we have a city full of people who’ve never had to fight.”

  “I share your worry. Lymir is recruiting more students and now he has all the professors in training, but our numbers are nowhere near where they should be. We certainly have experience and power on our side, but they could overwhelm us with sheer mass.”

  “It doesn’t help that the Dead are with them.”