Dragon Redeemer (World of Aluvia Book 3)

by Amy Bearce

  “The tree is mine, and the sword is my treasure. You cannot have it. I am a giant. You are but a tiny pebble on my mountain.”

  The creature didn’t know how stubborn Nell could be. He was about to learn.

  Nell scrutinized him as he swung a tree trunk like a quarterstaff. Her fingers slid along her bow, mentally picking her target. An eye, most likely. Its skin looked as thick as a manticore’s.

  She eased the bow into position. The giant didn’t appear to be the smartest or fastest creature in the world. Her windsteed held steady, wings barely moving.

  The ice giant growled. “There are so few creatures left here. I need more to sustain me. Your magic will feed me for months, young human. I will try to make your death fast, though.”

  “Nice of you.” Nell smirked, nocking an arrow.

  She took aim, hoping the wind wouldn’t gust at the wrong moment. She got lucky, and the arrow sank deep into one of the giant’s eyes. The creature bellowed in pain and stomped around the ground, turning the snow into churned mud.

  Nell quickly sent two more arrows soaring. One missed entirely―she clenched her jaw in frustration―but the other stuck into its elbow. A snaking crack ran from the arrow down its forearm, and the giant screamed in rage. Hope rose in her. This thing wasn’t invincible. Even icy stone could be destroyed.

  She slid her bow onto her back and pulled her sword. Her mind blanked as it did during a fight, leaving only enough space for noticing the opponent’s move and countering. He swung a club that would have taken off her head, but she and Brigid dropped fast to duck. Nell jabbed at him, but the sword bounced off his hard skin. He swung again, and she and Brigid flickered out of range before diving in again.

  Her world narrowed to a quiet place, of counter and attack. Though she battled, she was at peace. Unlike in times past, she had no need to use anger, fear, or revenge to keep her strong.

  Appearing in the air right next to the giant, she swung her sword hard and was rewarded with a small slice along his neck on his blind side as the windsteed flew past him quickly and kept going. With the size of the giant, the only way to win was to move fast.

  Dart in, attack, get out.

  But the monster was stronger than she’d given it credit for, and it was wising up to their tactics. It waited for her and Brigid to appear, stabbing wildly at the first sign of them. Even their fastest dive couldn’t keep it off-balance for long, and this sword just wasn’t the right tool for the job here. She needed the fiery sword, but who knew how long it would take to hack it out of the ice? She had to get rid of the giant first.

  Brigid responded to Nell’s every thought, swerving, diving, and flickering away as Nell plotted out her attack. The warmth of the windsteed pressed into her legs but also into her heart, driving the icy darkness back further.

  The steed was fast and strong, but Nell could tell she was tiring. Her magic was growing thin already, limited by the short supply of sky magic available. Nell sensed tremendous amounts of it looming close, though, like a swelling thunderstorm not yet spilling a single drop of rain on a parched, dry land. She squeezed her lips together. She needed a new plan, fast.

  The giant sent a fist the size of a cauldron flying and managed to hit them. A tearing sound filled her ears. Her left sleeve and glove ripped away, leaving her skin exposed to the bitter cold air. Pain radiated through Nell’s ribs, and her left arm felt like a hot poker was sticking her. It might be broken, from one hit of the giant’s fist.

  Nell blanched, and Brigid whinnied a challenge. Nell leaned over the steed’s neck.

  “We have to retreat!” Her arm throbbed. Winning felt impossible.

  The horse-like creature made a sound Nell swore was scoffing. Brigid looked back over her broad shoulder at Nell, eyes like twin suns. Her wings swished heat across Nell’s freezing skin and brought a surge of calmness. If ever an ice giant could be defeated, it could be done with a windsteed.

  Nell ticked through lists of possibilities. She tracked the lay of the land, the size of the creature’s club. She didn’t know yet how fast the windsteed could fly, but she had a feeling the answer was fast.

  “Taunt him. Let’s see how mad we can make him,” she whispered to Brigid. “Anger makes people do stupid things. I bet giants aren’t any different.” Nell held her sword high with her good arm and yelled a taunting shout.

  They dove like a griffin, sleek and fast and sharp. The monster needed to see her coming this time, to be infuriated by her broad grin and shining sword. She sliced his ear as they soared past, and Brigid’s wings burst into brighter fire to singe him.

  The giant howled in pain. The cut was deep enough that her sword came away heavy with blue blood. Ice giants bled blue. No nursery rhymes had ever mentioned that part.

  They charged again. This time, though, the giant was ready and swung his club with surprising speed. The windsteed spun and dove between his legs. Nell clung like an oak spur to keep from falling off, knees aching with the pressure held against the steed’s ribs.

  As the two of them twisted back above the giant in a wrenchingly tight arc, Brigid’s wings flared again. The ice giant bellowed with rage, and clumps of snow fell from his shoulders and legs.

  Nell gave thanks she seemed to be immune to the fire. The steed shrieked in defiance.

  “The cliff,” Nell yelled, sending the windsteed a mental image of what she wanted and hoping the steed would see it.

  Brigid responded immediately, the perfect mount, charging past the giant, tantalizingly close, drawing the lumbering giant to the edge of the cliff.

  They circled around so fast Nell’s braid streamed straight back from her head, and as they darted toward the giant this time, she threw her sword straight at him.

  The sword did little damage, merely sticking into his rocky thigh, but it made him stumble. The creature was huge, but thinking was not his strong suit, especially when half-blinded and wounded. He just wasn’t fast enough and tripped over a root as thick as his leg. While his arms flailed, Nell and Brigid flew right at him. The windsteed curved her wings, twisted midair, and lashed out at his chest with a vicious kick of her back legs. Sparks flew.

  The giant spun hard and slid over the edge of the cliff. He caught the ledge with one hand, but his weight worked against him. He let go with a yell that faded as he plummeted. The fall likely wouldn’t kill a creature like him, but he wouldn’t be back for a while.

  They landed in front of the sword. Nell dismounted, gaze sharp, watching for another trap. This simple sword was supposed to hold a piece of each guardian’s soul who had wielded it. When she took the sword, would it pull her soul out right away? Would it hurt? She swallowed hard. She had no idea what would happen, but it was time to trust the voice with all of her heart. And her soul.

  ell stared at the sword. Such a small object to hold so many hopes.

  Brigid stood at Nell’s back, nose barely touching her shoulder. The animal whuffled, and warmth slid across Nell’s neck. Heat radiated from Brigid, as well as acceptance. This steed would ride with Nell always, she knew. She didn’t need to fear losing anyone or anything.

  A shrill cry from beyond the cliff yanked her attention from the sword. Her eyes widened. A horde of twisted snow sprites sped over the water. They were tiny specks now but were closing in fast. They’d taken on a more solid form in the wind as they flew, and she could see they were starving. Furious. They’d swarm her, take her magic.

  She flashed back to the memory of Shane stealing the essence of the snow sprite, shriveling it into a ghoulish creature. Compassion filled her, and strengthened her resolve.

  The snow sprites weren’t the ones at fault. Nor were the dragons. Shane was the threat, and he was the one who would pay. Not because she wanted to kill him or seek revenge, no, but because justice needed to be served and his wrongs set right. The world’s magic needed protection from his greedy reach.

  She gripped the sword’s hilt with the hand of her unwounded arm. Before she could pull i
t from the ice, light burst from the blade. Nell’s hand felt melded to the sword, as if it had always been hers. She struggled to keep her footing through the shock, while the hilt heated against her palm, blade still deep in the frozen earth at the base of the Tree.

  The sword seemed to sing, a concert of harps filling her mind, a joy like the dawn after a long, hard night cascading through her. Flame burst out from it, evaporating the ice encasing it. The blaze flared all around the sword, flashing orange and yellow.

  Inside her, a different heat kind of heat burned, mixing with the joy, the music, the light. It healed her arm and chased away the worst of the darkness that had taken up residence in her. The bruised-looking stain on her left palm disappeared, and the red cut tingled before fading to a thin silvery line. Her heart opened wide.

  The voice broke free and spoke clearly into her mind. Instead of sounding like a single woman’s rich voice, it sounded like many women speaking in complete harmony, unified. Amplified.

  The guardians said, The Tree of Life was frozen when we hid away the fiery sword. Thus, the first of our magic was lost through our fear and doubts, followed by the rest of our world’s magic over time. Sierra brought the land’s magic to the world again. Phoebe helped set free the magic of the sea. And you, Nell, you must free the magic of the sky so our world can be complete and balanced. The fairies gave you sufficient magic to allow us to speak through you, but your true gift is with the sky.

  “What do I do?” Nell’s voice was hoarse. The sprites had almost reached her. It all came down to this.

  When you claim the sword, you will become the first guardian of Aluvia in time beyond counting.

  “Then what? Corbin needs healing! You said you’d help me beat back Shane’s power!”

  And so we will. Defending life is not the same as taking it, and the sword has power to heal, power only you can free as its wielder. You’ll know what to do.

  The power of the sword buffeted her. Could she actually control it? She tightened her grip and wrapped her left hand around the hilt as well.

  She was a warrior, by all of Aluvia. A good one. She was born to hold this sword in her hand. More, she was destined to wield the magic of the sky, something she never believed was possible.

  Until now.

  Now she was a warrior with a purpose, one who would bring healing to their lands. She could live with that. She only hoped Corbin could.

  “Then so be it!” she shouted. “This sword is mine!”

  With one smooth, easy movement, Nell lifted the sword before her, hilt gripped tight with both hands, the flaming blade level with her eyes. New light burst from it, a nimbus of radiance, dazzling her. A fiery sting traced over her left hand and arm, leaving behind a silver marking that glittered in the light of the flames above her. She fixated on it: the shape of a tree tattooed on her arm, its branches along her fingers, the heart of it on the back of her hand, the trunk of it stretching along her arm toward her elbow.

  The Tree of Life.

  A ripping sensation staggered Nell as the guardians poured down her arm and hands, into the sword itself. An echoing silence filled her mind. The voice, as she’d known it for so long, had left her.

  Unexpected grief stung, but there was no time to dwell on it. Flames of the sword grew until they surrounded her, running up along the frozen tree with a shower of sparks, flaming up the limbs and lighting up the sky. Ice shattered from the tree in an explosion of light and mist. Green leaves unfurled along the branches in a wild burst of life. Fire flashed across the blue bowl of the sky, a bright orange and red tinged with shining silver. Like lightning, the flames roared with speed, straight into the air. Out and up… and then down.

  Fire fell from the sky like streaks of falling stars. The very air itself shimmered with the silver-edged red of magic―the magic of the sky. It drenched Nell, singing through her sword and into her soul. The flames didn’t reach the ground but instead spread farther and wider. Some slowly disappeared into the air like rain water soaking into a desert. Others kept rushing outward.

  The snow sprites that had nearly reached her shrieked as the fires flowed over them. They covered their faces against the brightness of the blaze, and when the fire moved beyond them, they were merely mischievous snow sprites once more, eyes black with their special magic of the snowy air. No longer hungry. No longer miserable. The ties binding them to Shane had burned away. The magic of the air still blew through the sky, a hurricane of power spiraling outward, and Nell was the eye of the storm.

  Thank you! the snow sprites cried, then disappeared, leaving behind only a blue sky rich with magic of the air, available in a way it hadn’t been in centuries.

  Bracing her legs, Nell raised the sword high, opening herself to its calling as fully as she could. Its power thundered through her like a thousand windsteeds, carrying her into a place of perfect peace. The flames still surrounded her, now raging higher. The last lingering icy taint of Shane’s magic evaporated. Her anger at Shane, Jasper, Jack’s old crew… they were nothing. There was no room for hatred when the universe unfurled at your feet.

  All that was left inside her was a purity of purpose. She would teach others about keeping the magic of Aluvia balanced―earth, sea, sky. She would guard the Tree of Life with her sword and lead others to do the same.

  The magic wasn’t done yet. As the glow of the fire faded from her and expanded farther out, silver-hued ribbons of red swirled among the flames. The colorful strips unfurled as they rolled across the sky and reformed into a herd of windsteeds with fiery wings, neighing their triumph, then racing across the deep blue above them. They disappeared, blinking out one by one.

  Brigid pranced beside Nell while the herd thundered past in a wave of silver and red. Elation filled the mare, and Nell realized that the dancing lights in the night sky had been the windsteeds, trapped and waiting for freedom. The most powerful creatures of the sky were no longer penned by their missing magic. Like a joint snapping back into place, Nell could feel the stability now across the land, sea, and air.

  Then a voice spoke to her, the voice she feared she had lost forever. Her heart leapt at the familiar whisper.

  So the sword has opened the sky with fire as we foretold. You are our sword, Nell. Do you not see yet? You, yourself, not the steel in your hand. Now go and be our champion.

  “I felt you leave me, but how is it you’re talking to me now?”

  We’re connected through the weapon you now bear and its fiery magic, daughter. Each leader of the guardians has wisdom to preserve. After we shed our mortal bodies, the sword keeps a small piece of each of our souls, not our whole being. We are memories; we are hopes. Many pieces making a whole. You were our vessel for a time, and for your service, we thank you, but this is our rightful dwelling.

  “But you’ll stay with me? Guide me?”

  “Yes, but rather than being our vessel, you will be our prophet, our champion, the sky’s redeemer. You’ve lived with the land’s magic within you; you’ve been touched and recognized by the sea’s. Now you’ve been filled with the sky’s magic, which few have the discipline to control. But you do. You are the world’s protector. You will be Aluvia’s guardian.

  Her heart swelled with joy. The sword opened the sky with fire.

  And she was the sword.

  Fire still burned inside her, a flame she knew now would never die. When she passed on from this world, her flame would join the other guardians. Though the fire in the sky had faded from sight, she’d never feel its loss again.

  You need not fear anymore. The voice was a caress, like a mother’s comfort to her child after a long, hard day. You will never be alone.

  She wouldn’t either. Because unlike those women, she wouldn’t retreat to a hidden place to tend and mend the world. They’d tried to protect Aluvia’s magic by keeping knowledge of it secret and sacred, fearful of magic’s power in irresponsible hands. But everyone needed to be a part in Aluvia’s healing journey, not just a chosen few. And Nell
would be the one to tell them.

  Nell tipped back her head to the sky and let tears streak down her face. They were badges of victory, hard won. They were tears of joy as much as loss, and for once in her life, she didn’t begrudge the sign of weakness. She wasn’t weak. She’d been chosen for her strength.

  The wind whipped against her, still freezing, but the land around the Tree of Life, she realized with awe, was now green and covered with tiny yellow blossoms, despite the ice and snow around them. The entire Tree, from its highest branches to the deepest roots, was revived and healed.

  Like her. Healed and whole at last.

  “The sword can’t save you now, Nellwyn.”

  The voice had Nell spinning on her feet, dashing tears from her cheeks. Brigid stiffened beside her.

  Shane appeared, not behind Nell on the mountain top, but in the air above the cliff edge on the back of his dragon with a sword in each hand. A dozen other men rode dragons behind him. His dragon snarled and puffed icy mist.

  Shane said, “The fight ends here. I’ve given you enough chances to come to your senses. More than you deserved.”

  Behind him, the other dragons dipped and wove among each other like a dizzying nest of snakes. Arching blue necks, whipping tails, mantling wings. One after another flung back its head and gave a defiant shriek. The men tightened the reins, yelled at their mounts, and the dragons obediently soared as one to line up in a half-circle, all facing Nell. The heavy scent of jasmine and musk and winter storms surrounded her.

  The dragons held their heads downward, docile, but radiating rage. Their white eyes and blue scales marked them still as servants of Shane. Why hadn’t they been freed when the snow sprites were? Shane’s magic must be extremely powerful. The dragons needed to be cleansed from his toxic touch just as she had been.

  She laid a hand on her quivering mount. “The sword’s chosen me. You’re the one who’s on his last chance.”

  The men hovered near the Tree, waiting on Shane’s command. She recognized Jasper and Carrick, the old alchemist. Jasper sneered at her, and Carrick looked away, pale and drawn. There was Donovan, too. The others were unfamiliar. Shane had been recruiting men from all over Aluvia.