Wavebreaker_Book II of the Stone War Chronicles_Part 1_Trickle

by A. J. Norfield

  They kept the fire deliberately small, but had at least been able to grill the fish they had caught. Dalkeira had eaten another bellyful, while Trista and Decan had supplemented the fish with the cockles and crabs.

  The previous night's rain had left a small puddle of water in the corner of the cove. It tasted like mud, but at least looked free from any insect larvae. Trista had used some of the water to wash Dalkeira from head to tail. Pleased with the fact she was properly clean again, the dragon now also lay curled up near the fire. She slept a little closer to the fire than Trista would have thought comfortable, but Dalkeira did not seem to mind the heat of the flames at all.

  Trista looked around and listened to the sounds carried by the wind. They were a good half-day’s walk from the village, but she had seen multiple signs of the soldiers’ forces roaming about the island. Fortunately, they had not run into any patrols yet, but it was clear they could not stay here lest they run the risk of being found by the invading force.

  A few quick steps took Trista up the rock formation they had taken shelter near. Her legs objected slightly, still recovering from all the running and climbing. It was a very clear night, with the full moon providing plenty of light to look around.

  At least we don’t have to worry about rain.

  Standing atop the rock formation, she had a clear view of the north-east side of the island. The smoke was barely visible now, but lights on the horizon showed her that the soldiers were still camped nearby on the plains outside their village. She wondered if Hali had managed to escape.

  She turned around and surveyed the rest of the island. Of the five settlements, their village was one of the smaller ones. It was not hard to pinpoint where the others were from her viewing point; in each direction was a lingering column of smoke. It looked as though the soldiers had invaded every settlement at once.

  They’re probably plundering the fields to get the early summer crops…I wonder if any other villagers got away.

  In the distance, Trista saw a small herd of animals grazing on the low vegetation as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  Wild donkeys, she guessed.

  The animals strolled lazily from one patch of grass to another, occasionally nibbling on a low bush, eating the fresh leaves from between the long, spiky thorns. In the midst of all the nerve-racking events of the past two days, the scene of casually strolling donkeys left Trista feeling oddly serene, as if everything that had happened was just a bad dream.

  But then she saw the flying ships gliding through the air. Most were far beyond the island’s reef, but one was passing directly above the village and the soldiers’ encampment. The dark shape slid across the sky, heading toward the east. This was no dream, but a nightmare.

  She was startled by the sound of scraping rock behind her. Instantly, she spun around on the balls of her feet, fists clenched ready to hit whatever was sneaking up on her.

  Two rectangular pupils stared directly at her.

  “Behhh.”

  The goat stood some feet away on one of the rock boulders. It looked somehow happy to see her.

  “Where did you come from?” asked Trista, slowly approaching the animal. The rope around its neck suggested it had been someone’s property. “Did you escape from the soldiers, too?”

  With an open hand, Trista reached for the goat’s head. She carefully scratched it behind the ear.

  “It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Slowly, she took the rope. Then she patiently encouraged the goat to follow her. The animal was actually better than Trista at traversing the rocks; Trista’s feet slipped multiple times, while the goat followed her down almost casually.

  As they turned into the small rock cove, the goat pulled back on the rope. The fire, along with the scent of an unknown creature, made it too nervous to continue.

  “It’s alright. Nothing is going to hurt you.”

  Keeping the fire between the goat and Dalkeira, Trista tied the rope to some small, dried-up trees at the base of the rocks. Trista sat down for a moment, fully intending to go back up on the rocks once she had had a moment to rest. But her head felt heavy from the long, intensive day, and before she realized it, sleep had invaded her. Trista nodded off into a restless dream.

  Chapter 4

  Flight

  “Land ahoy!”

  Marek dropped down from the balloon at a dangerous speed, both feet landing on the deck with a solid thump. Excited, he pointed toward the bow of their unusual transportation.

  “Land! I can see land!”

  Galirras, snoozing in the afternoon sun, lifted his head.

  “What is it?” the dragon asked Raylan, not yet fully awake.

  Raylan looked past the bow. Dark lines shaped the horizon.

  “Aeterra. We’re almost home.”

  That got Galirras’ attention. Raylan knew the dragon had wondered about Aeterra since first hearing Raylan and the others speak of it. The cities, fields, forests, and of course the people—he was dying to see everything for himself.

  Raylan did not entirely share his enthusiasm. It was great to be back home, but they had bad news in tow. They needed to inform the king and council of their mission, the expected invasion…and Raylan would have to face his father and tell him about the loss of his brother.

  “It was not your fault,” spoke Galirras’ voice in Raylan’s head, sensing his sadness.

  Raylan put a hand on his friend’s scaled neck.

  “I know,” said Raylan without much conviction.

  Galirras' large, scaled head drooped. The tasks at hand would often keep Raylan busy and, for the most part, Galirras and the others saw a normal, happy person walking around the ship. But then a sound or remark would remind Raylan of his brother and immediately his spirit would dampen. Galirras let out a rumbling sigh, but did not press Raylan any further about the guilt he felt. Raylan was grateful; another discussion would not go any differently from the previous twenty.

  As Marek ran up to them, the dragon directed his attention once more toward the far horizon.

  “Can you see it, Galirras?” asked Marek breathlessly.

  “I think I see a village,” said Galirras.

  “Really? Where?” Marek held a hand above his eyes against the setting sun. “I can’t see a thing. How can you see that far with the sun in your eyes?”

  Galirras’ three vortex pupils swirled to the center of his eye and narrowed, focusing on the distance.

  “Yes, definitely buildings, and some smaller boats,” said the dragon.

  “Don’t bother, Marek. Galirras has exceptional eyesight. We won’t see anything that specific for a while. Not until we get closer, at least,” said Raylan, absently stroking Galirras’ neck.

  “Raylan, is that Azurna? The city you were telling me about?” asked the dragon.

  “Not likely. If it's anything like the harbors I’ve seen, Azurna is much bigger than a simple village. If we’re lucky, we won’t have to follow the coast for long before we get there. It should be a little further to the north according to Seb and Richard.”

  “We’ll be reaching land somewhere tonight. Should make it to Azurna before morning,” said Richard, summoned to the front deck by Marek's shout. He had Xi’Lao in tow.

  “Do you think we’ll make it with what’s left in the balloon?” asked Raylan, looking over the handrail down to the water.

  “We should, as long as we don’t come across any trouble," said Richard. "We’re still taking shifts with the bladed wheel to get as much speed out of her as possible. But we took a real beating with that storm, and since we’re out of vaporstones, we’ll be cutting it close.”

  After the storm, they used the last remaining vaporstones to regain as much altitude as possible. Since then, the airship had gradually been descending. Without the stones to burn, they had no way to stop their decline. They would eventually hit water if they were unable to reach the Aeterran coastline in time. Which was probably alright, except
none of them knew if the airship had been too badly damaged by the battle to still be seaworthy.

  “Well, I plugged all the holes I could find, but the cold sea nights will still make us lose altitude as the vapors in the balloon cool. There’s nothing more I can do,” Marek said with a hint of frustration.

  “Don’t worry. You’ve done more than enough,” assured Richard. “You kept us in the air during the storm. We wouldn’t have gotten this far if it weren’t for you and Galirras here. I’m glad the ship held together, but I doubt that these smaller airships were meant for such long solo journeys.”

  “Has transportation been arranged for when we reach the mainland? We need to get to the capital as soon as possible,” said Xi’Lao.

  Xi’Lao, official representative of the Tiankong Empire, was the reason their squad had been sent out to retrieve an ancient relic stolen by unknown forces. It had been a complete surprise to all of them when that relic turned out to be a dragon egg. Her nation had always thought that the egg was completely fossilized; the fact that Galirras was now amongst them proved otherwise.

  “Horses should be available in Azurna, as well as a place to rest up while we send messenger birds to inform the king and council of events,” Richard answered her. “We’ll likely have a few days to catch our breath while we wait for their reply.”

  Xi’Lao looked about to object. But as she looked around at the hollow eyes and cheeks of those around her, she seemed to decide that perhaps rest was not such a bad idea after all.

  “If that’s the case, I would like to send a number of messages myself once we arrive,” said Xi’Lao. “The birds I left at your king’s court can relay my messages to the Empire.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” replied Richard.

  “How’s the prisoner doing?” asked Raylan.

  “Kept under close watch, though he’s been pretty quiet lately. Ca’lek should be on duty at the moment,” said Richard.

  “No more attempts?”

  “No, not after last week, but he has not eaten for a number of days. I think he's trying to starve himself.”

  The night they stole the airship, they had also taken prisoner three enemy Doskovian soldiers. It took Raylan and the others almost a full week to completely lose the pursuing ships, but when they finally did, Richard ordered the prisoners brought on deck to see if they could learn anything more about the Doskovian invasion force. Up until then, the three soldiers had barely spoken a word and Richard doubted they spoke any Terran at all.

  However, Sebastian spoke the Kovian language well enough to act as interrogator, even though he was still recovering from his wounds. Galirras knew the Kovian language as well, but Raylan had chosen not to remind anyone of it. He would rather the dragon not be included in the interrogations. Those conversations were likely to turn gritty. It was a dark side of humans, one Raylan preferred to keep away from the dragon if possible.

  Raylan shook his head, remembering what had happened.

  “I still can’t fathom how easily they forfeited their lives. Anything to prevent the extraction of information, I guess,” said Raylan.

  “It was a rookie mistake. I should have known better,” Richard berated himself.

  “You couldn't have known. It all happened in the blink of an eye,” said Raylan. “No one in their right mind would expect they'd charge to the side and jump to their deaths.”

  “Well, if not for Harwin, it would have been a complete disaster,” said Richard.

  The veteran of their group, Harwin had thrown the shield he was cleaning into the legs of the last enemy soldier. The man had stumbled and slammed into the deck, where the archers Kevhin and Rohan immediately jumped him and held him down.

  With everyone in shock after their leap toward certain doom, the third Doskovian soldier was taken below deck and properly secured. He had not seen the sky since. Twice more the soldier had tried to take his own life, once by hanging himself with his hammock and another time by trying to open an artery with a rusty nail he had picked from the wall. As a result, the man's hands and feet were now continuously tied, restricting his movement as much as possible.

  As soon as Sebastian recovered enough from his shoulder wound to move around, they started their questioning. But days of interrogation had led to nothing. They had only received one answer after Sebastian had repeated a single question over and over for an entire day: where were they planning to invade?

  “All of it.”

  They were the only words of importance that the soldier had uttered, the rest only serving to expand the company's Doskovian curse vocabulary tenfold.

  Those days had drained Sebastian as much as they had the soldier. Eventually, Richard ordered them to wait until they were back at the capital, Shid’el, where people with more experience could try and extract the information. Except now the prisoner refused to eat, Raylan had his doubts if the enemy soldier would make it all the way there.

  “Will they have meat in Azurna? I am getting hungry,” said Galirras, completely off-topic.

  “You’re always hungry,” laughed Marek.

  Raylan was surprised Marek remained so cheerful given the little amount of food they had. Then again, it was probably plenty compared to the mines he and Sebastian were held captive in. Raylan felt his own hunger strengthened by the dragon’s rumbling stomach.

  “They will have meat, I promise,” he answered Galirras. “But for now, why not go and catch some fish? It will be a while before we reach Azurna, and we could use some dinner.”

  Galirras did not look happy about that.

  “Fish again? I am not fond of the taste…or the water they swim in, for that matter. You know, I could fly ahead and see what I can find behind those cliffs on the horizon,” said Galirras, hopeful.

  “Not a chance, but nice try,” said Raylan with a small smile. “I can already see the chaos and mayhem if someone were to spot you without the proper introduction. But tell you what, maybe you can spot a seal sunbathing on one of the rocks down there.”

  It had been almost three weeks since they made off with the small scouting airship. There had been plenty of provisions on board when they left. But the enemy, who had been preparing for an invasion, did not take into account a dragon—one that was still growing, at that—as part of the crew.

  All the dried meat had been gone in a matter of days as Galirras built up his energy and recovered from his injuries. After that, the dragon was forced to look for his own food if he wanted anything else to eat besides hard biscuits and a small amount of dried fruit that he did not like the taste of.

  Feeling guilty about his appetite, Galirras took it on himself to find food for everyone. And given the fact he had fully enjoyed catching the beautifully colored fish in the lake near the hot springs during their hasty travels across the Dark Continent, he had set out to catch some fish. But the ocean was completely different from the calm waters of the lake. His near-drowning experience on the Doskovian coast a few weeks before had scared the hell out of Raylan and made Galirras very wary of the deep, black ocean water.

  Being a bit too careful, he had spent his entire first day looking for fish in the dark water, only to be disappointed time and time again. Whenever he thought he had finally located some, it turned out to be a branch or seaweed floating on the surface. Later, when he returned to the airship, both Raylan and Sebastian had told him all they knew about spotting schools of fish in the great wide ocean; from noticing birds and whales to looking around the area where the water changed colors because the changing depth.

  The next day, Galirras had set out again, using his newly acquired knowledge to try and catch a meal. The information paid off as the dragon successfully located a school of strange fish which actually jumped out of the water toward him as he made his dive. They were not all that tasty, he thought, but he was able to eat his fill over the course of the morning. Late that afternoon he went out again and caught a fine meal for the squad.

  Much like Galirras’ fi
rst days of hunting on land, his methods improved every time he went out. Raylan had watched him try out different tactics, even using his windblast to try and stun some of the larger fish. Yet it remained difficult to catch enough to satisfy everyone’s hunger, and it was not long until the salty taste of the water and his not-so-daily meal began to sit ill with him.

  One day, they were lucky enough to spot a colony of seals, which was unusual given that they were so far out to sea. Unfortunately, they had no way to preserve the food, so Galirras only caught enough for them to eat lest the meat rot away unused.

  “Even if we’re hungry, it would be wasteful to take more than we can use,” Raylan had said.

  At the time, having just stuffed himself with numerous seals, Galirras could not have agreed more. Now, though, he wondered if he might not prefer the decaying flesh of a seal above that of the salty taste of fish. Contrary to what Raylan told him, he was fairly convinced he would not get sick from it…much.

  As Galirras consumed more and more saltwater fish, his scales turned dull with the excess salt secreted by his skin. Raylan had noticed it first, feeling grains of salt roll beneath his hand when he ran it along the dragon’s skin. It made the skin less flexible and dry. As a result, Galirras was plagued by tiny itches all over his body, often in places he could not reach himself. Raylan often saw the dragon’s skin twitch, but Galirras assured him it did not bother him much.

  Now, after two and a half weeks of eating fish or almost nothing at all, Galirras could not wait to sink his teeth into a nice, warm, bloody deer. He walked to the edge of the deck and looked down to the ocean. There did not seem to be any seal colonies here in the vicinity. He let out a rumbling sigh.

  “I will see what I can do, but it does not look promising.” He pushed off and let himself fall forward over the handrail. After dropping a good distance to get clear of the airship, he snapped open his wings and pushed himself up with a combination of his wings and wind power. He circled back around the airship once—a custom he had taught himself after the storm to check all was in order with the ship—before he stooped forward and took a nosedive toward the water.