The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 03 - Seven Days

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The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 03 - Seven Days Page 11

by Ben Hale


  He flushed, but Jack stepped up beside him before he could say anything. “Can you stop flirting long enough for us to find Siarra?”

  Mae’s smile evaporated and her voice turned crisp. “There is a door around the corner that looks different.”

  Jack slipped past Trin and peeked around the corner. Ducking back, he said, “I’d wager it’s our host’s private quarters.”

  “And what gives you that idea?” Trin asked, still feeling the sting from the thief’s comment.

  Jack’s expression became scornful. “May I remind you, this isn’t my first time doing this.” He caught Mae’s eye and swept his hand out. “Mind if I . . .”

  She gave a curt nod and the thief led the way around the corner. Trin stepped in to follow him, allowing Mae to bring up the rear. He didn’t want to get caught looking again. Once into the cross corridor, he noticed the door that they had been talking about. Although just as old as any of the other doors they had passed, this one was obviously protecting something. Thick bands of iron strapped the door in place, and the hinges were sturdy and well built.

  Jack slid into place next to the door and bent to examine the lock, with Trin and Mae taking up position on either side of him. Trin glanced down at him. “Can you do it?”

  “Of course,” he replied with a snort, "but it will take a minute. The pins are magically reinforced, and someone added an acid trap.” He threw a smug look up at Trin as his fingers worked. “Don’t worry. I already disarmed it.”

  Trin looked away, deciding to swallow his concerns and let the thief work. Everything about this place left him on edge. Swallowing his unease with difficulty, he focused his attention on the hall, listening for any hint of danger.

  A soft click brought his attention back to the door, and he turned in time to see Jack dribble oil on the hinges before he cracked it open. Stopping as a line of light appeared, he eased a thin rod through the gap and peered into the end.

  “Looks like some sort of anteroom,” Jack whispered. “Empty, for now.”

  Withdrawing the rod, he cautiously worked the strongdoor open, stopping when the hinges squeaked. Adding oil to the protesting metal, he again eased the door until it was wide enough for a body to get through.

  Rising to his feet, he indicated for Trin and Mae to bend close. “Get inside the room and hide. I will close the door behind us. Sit tight until we can be sure no one heard the door.”

  Trin waited for the slighter Mae to enter the room, and then followed her in. Catching sight of a large, gilded case of dusty weapons, he darted behind it and crouched out of sight. From his position, he could see Jack as he stepped inside and relocked the door. Before he knew it, the thief had disappeared from sight behind some large curtains.

  Controlling his breathing, Trin listened for any sound that they had been detected, trying to calm his thudding heart. Then he heard a low whistle, and he looked out from behind the case. Jack had already begun to search the room, so Trin began his own exploration. The room was large, perhaps thirty paces from side to side and shaped like a square. Littered with rusted suits of armor, weapon cases, and shields, the room was surprisingly organized. Rather than make it feel more at home, it left Trin fighting to control a sense of dread. Without exception, every other room they had passed had been layered in dust and debris.

  Unable to set aside his discomfort, he stepped out onto a wide covered balcony and looked over the stone railing. To his surprise, he saw that the courtyard below was not there, leaving a ragged hole to the bottom of the cavern's pit. Even though he knew the dark dragon would be out of sight around the corner, he still peeked in that direction before stepping back into the room.

  The moment he entered, he saw Jack disappear into a side room, so he turned and began to work his way towards Mae. Moving from one stand of armor to the next, he wondered where it had all come from. Although most appeared old and corroded, some of the steel had not yet begun to rust. Catching sight of a longsword not unlike his own, he had the uncomfortable thought that the gear had come from other intruders.

  Mae whistled a high-low that drew Trin’s attention from the weapon. Moving to her side, he saw her looking into an open cabinet. Glowing in the center, an orb of glass pulsed with blinding white light.

  On impulse, Trin reached out and picked it up, hardly noticing Mae’s exclamation to stop. He did feel her thump his arm though. Wincing he turned to her and shrugged—

  —A sudden crash from the other side of the room caused them both to whirl and see an old man dressed in a gray robe. His gray eyes sparkled with fury and he screamed at them, raising a hand in their direction.

  With the orb still in his hand, Trin dodged to the side not a moment too soon. Rusted swords lifted from their cases and began to streak towards him. His breathing ragged, Trin bolted down the wall, flinching every time he heard a blade strike behind him. The last two came too close for comfort, and they exploded into rusty shards that rained down around him.

  Without warning he felt an impact from behind, knocking him sprawling. Rolling onto his back, he was astonished to see that Mae had tackled him to floor. A long metal rod quivered in the wall where he’d been just a moment before. Leaping to his feet, he yanked her up beside him to see the old man growing a massive fireball in his hands. Yelling at Mae, he threw himself sideways, knowing it was too late.

  The ball of flame streaked across the room and struck a cabinet behind Trin, so close he felt the heat sear his back. Shattering the old wood and a large section of the stone, the impact threw Mae and Trin sliding out onto the balcony. Clawing for a hold, Mae tried to stop herself as she sped towards a gap in the railing.

  Grunting with the effort, Trin rolled towards her, snatching her hand and stopping her before she reached the edge. Smiling at her, he began to pull her up, but she froze, and Trin watched as another fireball reflected in her bright blue eyes, growing larger. Just before it struck, he felt her yank them towards the drop.

  Detonating hard, it threw both of them towards the gap. In desperation, Trin dropped the glowing orb and snagged a broken piece of stone as his body fell off the ledge. Reaching out, he caught Mae’s arm with his other hand as she flew past him. Falling several feet, she came to an abrupt halt, almost jerking his shoulder out of place. Gritting his teeth, he tried not to look into the plunging pit below.

  Straining against the weight, he watched as the pulsing ball rolled off the ledge and fell into the abyss.

  With only the empty darkness of the yawning hole beneath them, he held on for dear life. Then he heard the crunch of feet on gravel above, and felt his heart leap into his throat. Looking up, he saw the old man glare down at him, his expression haughty.

  “Fools,” he said, his voice as cold as ice, “you will die painfully for what you have done. Now give me the . . .”

  The man’s gaze twitched and looked past Trin, gazing into the depths with an expression of horror. Turning his head to see what had happened, Trin looked past the hanging form of Mae and into the inky depths. Despite the distance, the bright spot of light looked like a single star at night.

  Then the orb struck the bottom and shattered.

  White light exploded upward, illuminating the entire cavern in a rush of shrieking wind and light. Accustomed to the darkness, Trin winced, looking back at the old man in time to see his expression shift. Lit by the whirlwind of piercing light, his wide eyes showed only one emotion, fear. Whirling, he looked further up the keep. Without a word, he disappeared back inside.

  The moment his hurried footfalls faded into silence, Jack burst into view, already uncoiling a rope.

  ***

  Siarra’s head snapped up the moment she heard sounds of a commotion below. The muffled sounds of crashing glass and splintering wood were unmistakable, causing a grin to blossom across her features. Her friends had gotten out.

  Listening intently, she felt a flash of worry as she heard the blast of a fireball, followed by a yell. Another fireball detonated, and then
silence. Her heart sounded loud as she listened for the slightest hint of her friends’ victory. A moment later, a streak of white light flew past her window, and her head snapped to look at the opening.

  An instant later, the white light brightened and flooded the room like water, reaching out and collecting on her skin. Unable to stop herself, she began to laugh as the magic of her birthright flowed into her, infusing her body with pure energy. Breathing deep, she drew the power in, feeling it touch every part of her as it reattached to her mind and soul. Gradually the light outside began to fade, until every bit had flowed into the room and sunk into her. The room went dark at the same moment that Zorik burst through the door.

  Siarra’s head tilted upward as she met his widening eyes.

  “My turn,” she said, throwing her arms forward in a ringing clap.

  Shackles shattered, chunks of stone exploded from the wall, and a furious blast of wind punched Zorik through the door, smashing him into the corridor in a crunch of broken stone.

  ***

  Taryn ducked deeper into the alcove when the odd light illuminated the cavern like a midday sun. Crouching next to the large form of Kell, he glanced at Liri, who shrugged at him. Frowning, he peeked around the corner, hoping the dragon was still asleep, but the instant the massive beast came into view, he saw its head was up and snaking left and right, as if it were sampling the air. Even as Taryn pulled back he saw that the light had begun to diminish, to be replaced by the shadowy glow of the red torches.

  “What is going on?” he whispered to Liri, blinking at his loss of night vision.

  Next to him, she rubbed her eyes, her expression bewildered. “Is the dragon awake?”

  He nodded, wondering if their plan would still work. They were supposed to wait until they had some sign that Siarra had been freed. Hidden inside a recess of broken stone in the eastern courtyard, they had an excellent view to the north and east, allowing them to keep an eye on the dragon, as well as a part of the northern side of the keep.

  Glancing up at the stone citadel, he felt a flash of worry streak through him. What if she is dead already? The thought lanced into his mind like a hot iron, threatening to overwhelm him. In his heart, he knew that losing her would mean losing the only family he had. Clenching his eyes shut against that idea, he sent a fervent plea to Ero for her safety.

  “Did you hear that?” Liri asked, her voice intense.

  “What?” Taryn asked, unwilling to admit to his inattention. “Did it sound like that commotion a few minutes ago?”

  She cocked her head, ignoring him as she waited. Then a dull crash echoed throughout the cavern, causing Taryn to lift his eyes to the keep on their left. For a long moment, silence reigned, as if every creature held their breath at the same time.

  —Then the north side of the keep exploded, sending large chunks of stone raining down into the courtyard. Surprised by the sudden detonation, Taryn was even more stunned when a figure fell out of the tower, plummeting towards the ground. At the last second, a plate of rusted metal rose up and flattened, catching him and sending him tumbling to the ground.

  Then another figure appeared. Standing on a broken door held aloft by a tornado of wind, the unmistakable figure of Siarra glowed reddish white as she floated downward, gathering fire in her hands.

  Joy flushed through Taryn as he saw his sister, alive and well, and he half raised a hand to call out to her. Then he remembered their role in the plan. Leaning out of the recess, he saw the black dragon already on its feet on the bridge, unfurling its wings.

  Liri stepped out beside him. “We have to do it now! Before it gets to Siarra!”

  Leaping up the stairs next to them, they both raced up to the battlements, the sounds of the magic battle thundering in their ears. Taryn sped into the lead as soon as they reached the top, glancing down to see Kell bolting across the courtyard towards the gatehouse that led onto the bridge.

  Movement caught his eye, and he turned to see the dragon arching his back and spreading his wings. Extending his neck, the great creature bellowed a thundering roar that shook the parapet beneath them, sending stone tumbling to the ground below. The snap of fear that followed caused Taryn to pick up the pace, allowing him to arrive at the turret at the same moment the dragon launched itself into the air.

  Drawing Ianna, his mother's katsana, he morphed it to a bow and dropped to one knee. Already in place, an arrow of solid green light sat notched and ready for use. Drawing it back, he tracked the dragon's course before sending it streaking away in a snap of enchanted wood. Like a beam of light, it flew across the dark space, striking just behind the horned head. Bellowing in pain, the dragon banked away from the two combatants in the courtyard, angling its flight to swoop around the tower.

  Liri slid to a stop next him and sighted on the retreating form, her enchanted bow enhancing the view. Releasing in a hum, the bow used wind to guide the arrows’ path in an impossible arc, striking the wing joint where it was weakest. The accompanying roar of rage was deafening, and they both ducked behind the wall before the dragon could spot them.

  “Do you think we hurt it?” Taryn asked, listening hard.

  “Does a bee hurt a man?” she asked, notching another arrow.

  “Not really, they just make him mad,” Taryn replied, his voice grim as he added, “I knew I didn’t like this plan.”

  Nodding to each other, they both rose to their feet, sighting at the spot where the dragon would appear after circling the tower. Counting the seconds as he waited, Taryn began to worry after five . . . and then ten seconds went by.

  “Where did he go?” Liri asked, sweat beading on her forehead.

  “I don’t know,” Taryn replied in a tight voice.

  Then Taryn heard the sound of stone being crushed to powder, so loud it reverberated over the blasts of fire, wind, and ice coming from the northern courtyard. Whirling to locate the source, Taryn darted to the opposite side of the turret and looked down. He withdrew with a jerk of his head, stunned to silence as the dragon’s head exploded into view, reaching upward as the armored behemoth climbed the tower in front of them. Stone crumbled and walls fell as its massive claws grasped ramparts on either side of their turret, hemming them in.

  Angling its head towards them, it roared a thunderous challenge that nearly blew them from their feet before sucking in, preparing its acid breath.

  Chapter 14: Deep Dragon

  Siarra glided down on her makeshift sled, manipulating the wind holding her aloft until she scraped to a stop. Striding forward she gathered the stone around her, readying another strike to her crippled foe. But Zorik rose to his feet, blood dripping from an ugly gash on his arm. The sight of the furious and still powerful man stopped Siarra in her tracks.

  “I will have to be satisfied with destroying you,” Zorik exclaimed, anger thickening his voice. “Draeken will still reward me well for eliminating such a pest!”

  “This castle will become your tomb old man!” Siarra said in a voice that caused him to flinch. “I swear it!”

  Zorik struck first, lifting hundreds of metal fragments out of the rubble around him. An instant later, they leapt for Siarra’s heart. Already tuned to the stone around her, Siarra lifted her arms in a cross, hands clenched tight as she ducked behind her wrists. Stone erupted around her, answering her call. Exploding upward, the shards of rock collided to form a shield—just in time. Rusted metal shattered upon impact as the streaking missiles pummeled the unyielding stone.

  Then Siarra struck back, sending her shield sliding forward. Diving to the side, Zorik managed to evade the blow, launching a fireball towards her at the same time. Siarra lifted a chunk of stone and angled it, deflecting the missile away. The explosion struck behind her, and she took a step forward and lifted her hands. Moisture began to bead on Zorik’s body, drenching him as if in rain.

  An instant later Siarra clenched her fist, freezing the layer of water to solid ice. Knowing it would only hold him for seconds, Siarra gathered her own fi
reball, waiting for the right moment to strike . . .

  The ice shattered, blown apart by the layer of heat that Zorik had brought to bear. He blanched as he saw Siarra with a massive fireball churning in her hands, twice the size of the one he’d launched. She raised her arms, aiming so regardless of which way he turned, the detonation would still get him—

  —Movement caught her attention, and her gaze flicked to the side. The sight of the great black dragon towering over Taryn flashed before her eyes, breaking her concentration as her heart leapt into her throat. Too far away to give aid, she could only watch as the dragon roared and gathered itself to launch its deadly breath.

  Distracted and afraid for Taryn, she nearly missed the metal rod that streaked towards her. On instinct, she sidestepped, sending what remained of her fireball into the rod to deflect it, but Zorik was back in control. Striding forward, the servant of Draeken sent missile after missile towards her, so quickly she could only block and dodge. With half her mind on Taryn and Liri, she couldn’t gather her scattered focus enough to present a defense.

  Struggling to bring her thoughts together—she stumbled backward and tripped, sending her sprawling on her back. Zorik then appeared above her, a long metal shard in both hands as he said, “Fool. Friends just get you killed.” Raising it high, he brought it plunging downward—

  —As a spinning knife thudded into Zorik’s arm. He cried out in pain, causing the weapon to graze Siarra as it sank into the ground beside her. Siarra grunted as the weapon scratched her side, but looked to see Jack Myst launching another weapon. Zorik yelled at the thief in fury and his hand flew out to swat the throwing knife aside, but instead of deflecting it away as the simple metal spell was meant to do, it did nothing. Instead, the short blade sank into the old man’s hand, causing him to bellow in surprise and pain.

  The next instant, Jack was by her side and yanked her to her feet. “Let’s go!”

 

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