The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10)

by Craig Halloran

  The changeling, Gorlee, was gone, slipped right through her grasp. Worse yet, he’d managed to break into The Deep and not only regain his memories but wreak havoc while she and Nath were gone.

  She reeled from the effects of it. Her control over things was slipping.

  “You!” she said to one of the two guards who flanked her great doors, decorated in fine armor and carrying halberds. “Come! Stand before the dais.”

  The lump in the man’s neck rolled. With a glance at the other guard, he marched over and kneeled at the dais.

  She locked her fingers together and rested her chin on them.

  “Show me how you use that weapon.”

  Water beaded on his brow as he nodded. A moment later, the grand weapon jabbed and cut and flashed all over. He bowed again in less than a minute, lathered in sweat.

  “Excellent,” she said. Then she pointed to the other guard. “Now go and kill him.”

  “High Priestess?” he remarked.

  Her eyes blazed, and flames erupted from her mouth, incinerating the man. The dragon fire left only the metal from his armor and weapons. Glaring at the other guard, who trembled at the door, she said, “Looks like you win. Now leave me!”

  The guard vanished, and the doors locked in place behind him.

  Selene walked down the steps, swatting her tail through the ashes and warped metal. She still seethed.

  Gorlee had made a mess of things. Disguised as her, he’d had her top priests, acolytes, commanders, and aides taken to The Deep with orders to be fed to Bletver.

  Faced with the task of explaining all this to Nath Dragon, she’d drugged him. A sleep potion, powerful as could be made, filled his belly. He would not wake up until she countered the spell. At least she hoped. All dragons had some resistance to magic, but she had been very careful. So in his room he slept, while she got Narnum back under control.

  She called for her drulture. In moments, it swooped over the balcony and landed on her shoulder. She petted its head.

  “Good dragon. Good dragon.”

  The rebels in the streets were being found and cleared. The graffiti of Balzurth—two slashes and a circle—was all gone. The feline fury she had sent again to find Gorlee, but the changeling had vanished. It worried her. What if the fury could no longer sniff the changeling out? It could be anyone and anywhere.

  Worst of all, Gorlee could warn Nath Dragon.

  She needed to keep Nath close and make sure Nath wouldn’t believe what anyone else told him. That might not be so difficult. Lucky for her, he was busy brooding over the war among the dragons and doubting his father. Her seed had taken root. She’d created enough doubt to gain more of his trust. Nath was primed to make a bold move. She just had to be careful how she led him. His bold move needed to be in her favor.

  She went out onto the terrace. It was a cool night, heavy in dark cloud cover. Below, the streets were empty of the citizens, now that a strict curfew was enforced at nightfall. The absence of the carousing sounds of citizens that time of night was strange, leaving her alone with the gentle howls of the wind that whipped through the towers.

  “Selene …”

  Her head snapped around, followed by a chill that raced down her spine.

  An apparition emerged from the shadows. It had long wispy white hair, horns in its skull, and a green hue around its body. A dragon wraith, somewhat like a man, a lich, torn between the living and dead worlds. Its features were gaunt, and its scales stretched in the semblance of wrinkled leather. It stood as a man, wore robes, and had eyes that flickered with power. It pointed a crooked clawed finger at her. Its voice was a ghostly hiss.

  “Gorn Grattack summons you…”

  Lifting her chin, she said, “I cannot leave at this moment.”

  “Now,” the ghostly lips hissed. It pulled a sword from the belt strapped around its tattered robes. Its blade was pitch black. “Now, or death.”

  Selene’s lips curled back.

  “Don’t threaten me, you little wraith.” She summoned her power. A ball of flame formed in her hand. “I’ll banish you with a thought, you undead courier.”

  “Now,” it warned, drifting closer. The sword winked lightning. “Now, or all will be lost.”

  Resisting Gorn Grattack’s wishes was a fatal thing to do, but she didn’t like how she received the invitation.

  “Lead,” she said, crushing out her ball of flame.

  The wraith lifted from the terrace and glided quickly up into the night sky.

  Selene summoned the dragon within. Great wings sprouted from her back. She was in one of many dragon forms she could assume, a secret she held from Nath. She leapt into the air, wings flapping, catching up to the wraith in an instant.

  While the pair flew hour after hour, all she could think about was what Gorn Grattack wanted with her now, in person. There were dozens of other ways they could communicate that weren’t in person.

  He always wants something different than what I think he wants. Be strong, Selene. Be strong.

  The wraith dropped out of the sky and spiraled toward the ground somewhere east of Quinktuklen in the mountain ranges. Scores of dragons of all sorts were scattered along the peaks. It petrified the blood in her veins. Gorn Grattack had his forces rallied. She had none of hers.

  As soon as they landed, she had to change back into human form so that the wraith could lead her into a temple entrance she’d never seen before. It was grand but had fallen into ruin, and it led deep into the mountain. The darkness chilled her robed shoulders.

  Her fingertips tingled more than the last time she’d encountered Gorn Grattack. He had still been in spirit form that last time, and she wondered what form he’d taken now. Ahead, a giant-sized throne sat empty between two massive urns that sprouted blue flame.

  The wraith turned to her and said, “Wait.” Then it promptly left.

  It seemed she waited an eternity, but it was probably a few minutes.

  “How are you, Selene?”

  She twisted around.

  A striking man stood before her, dark haired and dark featured, with a serpentine look about him. He stood much taller than she did, broad and lean, wearing the attire of a commoner, but a fanciful sort. His eyes had a radiant glow.

  All of her blood rushed through her. She dropped to one knee.

  “My Lord,” she said, bowing.

  “Rise and embrace me, Daughter,” he said. His voice was as strong and steady as the rivers. “I’ve missed you.”

  She did. His arms locked around her waist and held her tight. His natural strength was crushing. He let her go and brushed her cheek.

  “You look marvelous, as always,” he said, “and those wings are a nice touch.” He waved his hand, and dozens of torches came to life. He led her to a table cut from purple marble and sat down in one of the chairs. “Sit. Eat if you like.” There were many tureens of different stews, and carafes of various wines. He dropped some grapes in his mouth. “I’ve been wandering among the races of late, trying to get a better feel for things. I can’t fail this time, as I did the last time.”

  “And why did you fail the last time?” she said, avoiding the food.

  “I didn’t have strong enough alliances, but this time, well, this time things are better planned.” He crushed a grape between his fingers. “And we’ll be more deliberate about things.” He locked his fingers on the table and leaned in her direction. “So, tell me, how are things going with Nath Dragon?”

  His piercing eyes bore into her. Seeing him in monstrous dragon form was one thing, but his current form seemed more dangerous somehow. Crafty. Insidious. Omnipotent. She had no idea what to expect.

  She pulled her shoulders back and said, “I’m gaining his trust.”

  “And what will you do once you have it?” Gorn asked. “Join forces with him and turn against me?”

  He can’t know that!

  “Certainly not, my Lord,” she said. Her heart was jumping. Think. Think. Think. “But the thought has occu
rred to me.”

  Gorn didn’t speak. Instead, he just tilted his head. After a long moment, he said, “I’ve raised you well, Selene. Ambition. That’s the key to conquest. I would be sorely disappointed had you answered differently.”

  “As well you should be.”

  Gorn slammed his fist on the table, creating a crack through it.

  “Don’t tell me how I should be!” he said firmly. “Ever.” He stared her down.

  Selene gulped, but she did not avert her eyes, staring right back at him.

  After a pause that would have been awkwardly long to anyone but a dragon, Selene gave her father the briefest of nods, and Gorn Grattack went on.

  “As for Nath Dragon, the uppity son of Balzurth, how do you think we should handle him, hmm?”

  “The Truce keeps him at bay,” she said. “I have his dragon powers harnessed, but he is getting stronger and learning to understand his powers. In but a little more time, he will cross over.”

  “So certain, are you?” Gorn said.

  “Indeed. He cannot stomach dragons warring among ourselves. He’ll fight to prevent it.” She shrugged. “He’s too naïve to understand.”

  “And how long is this truce to hold him?”

  “Four more years, but my work will be done long before then.”

  “Oh,” Gorn said, “your work will be done much sooner than that, Daughter. Balzurth’s servants move on us now, and I like how you are using that against him. Turning his son’s feelings inside out. You are wise, Selene.” He smiled. “But, we can’t hold back while Balzurth picks us apart one unit at a time. He attacks where our forces are weak, from the inside out. We need to step up our timetable.”

  “Whatever you wish, my Lord.”

  “I’m sure you’ve grown fond of Balzurth’s son, but he’s only of use to us if he’s fighting on our side. You must assure that, or kill him.”

  The words were an invisible blow across her cheek.

  “I’ll have him serving faithfully in no time.”

  “There is only one way to make that happen, Selene. Nath Dragon needs dragon blood on his hands. Virtuous dragon blood. He must kill one of his father’s own faithful followers. Only then will he cross over to the victorious path which is ours.”

  “It will be done,” she said.

  “Easier said than done, but I have faith in you, Daughter.”

  He rose from his chair calmly enough, but then he grew to another size, towering over her. Scales rose on his arms, horns sprouted from his head, and claws popped from his fingers. Towering over her, he spoke in a voice of thunder.

  “EXECUTE THIS IMMEDIATELY. IF THIS PLAN FAILS, THEN BRING NATH DRAGON TO ME PERSONALLY—FOR HIS DESTRUCTION. GO NOW.” He pointed outside the mouth of the temple. “YOU HAVE NO TIME TO WASTE.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Inside a Narnum tavern, Gorlee lay low. Hunkered down over a table illuminated by a lone candle, he’d taken the form of a half-orcen man and could even see one of the warts on his own nose. Ruddy-skinned and hairy, he finished off his tankard of spiked sap and drew his sleeve across his chin. He banged his mug on the table.

  “Waitress!”

  The tavern was crowded. Sweat-soaked bodies milled back and forth late in the day, cursing the curfew that High Priestess Selene had set in place.

  He chuckled to himself. He’d fouled her plans up something awful!

  A waitress, ragged in appearance with a mop of long blond hair, dropped another tankard on the table. He offered her a smile filled with rotten teeth.

  “How are you this day, pretty woman?”

  A ghastly look filled her face. She did a double take and scurried off to murmur to the bartender.

  Gorlee huffed and leaned back in his groaning chair. He’d made himself the least appealing person in a room where most of the races were represented, the more notorious ones being gnolls, goblins, orcs, and such. There were men, too, and just as many, all swarthy and misaligned. None of them wanted anything to do with him, and that was just what he wanted.

  People are so … fascinating!

  He took a drink and made a bitter face. The spiked sap was strong. It didn’t have any effect on him, but even though he was a changeling and capable of many amazing things, he realized he had to get the details right. The manners. The smells. Selene had taught him that, and it had helped. Especially when he was certain the feline fury was prowling the city for him. He had avoided the dragon-cat for weeks.

  He peered through the window where he sat. He could see up the street all the way to the Great Tower. It was tall, broad, and magnificent. He was certain Nath was back in there, so he needed to stay close. Soon enough he’d catch him and warn him.

  Not easy, even for someone such as me.

  He wished he could take the form of a draykis with wings and just fly up to Nath’s room. It didn’t work that way, though. He could duplicate forms but not abilities. He recalled Nath almost sniffing him out when he asked Gorlee to display the sorceress powers of Sasha. All of that left a guilty pit in him, and he was determined to make it right.

  He took another sip, gazing at the tower and the rooftops along the street. Dragons had returned. Great lizards with black wings and tails watched the street like hawks. It was clear to him: Selene wanted him back. Soldiers scoured the streets for him—and for any citizens who made the mark of Balzurth. Selene had it under control now, which worried him because there was no sign of Nath Dragon.

  I need to go in. I can’t wait much longer.

  The rebellion Selene had quashed was little more than a handful of men and women leaving the two slashes through a circle mark. It had stirred quite the reaction from Selene’s Great Tower. Punishment had been swift and deadly. Several people still hung from the neck in grisly town square scenes. As quick as the rebellion began, it ended.

  Yet, Gorlee saw things that others did not. Rebels yet roamed the streets of Narnum, and he was trying to decide who he could trust, if any, among them.

  A small group of men and women huddled at a table adjacent to his. He’d been keeping tabs on them for days. They were a rugged bunch, judging by their garb, but their voices were as polished as river stones. His ears were tickled by bits and pieces of their conversations. Balzurth was spoken of more than one time, and Gorlee had noticed something else that was odd. Another man came and quickly displayed an ‘O’ with his right hand and two fingers up with his left before he sat down.

  Clever.

  Over coarse voices in many languages, he siphoned out their conversation. It was another skill he’d been working on for years.

  “We are found out,” a woman said, “and the time to leave is now. Our brethren hang, and we will soon be next.”

  “Aye,” a man said, stroking his grizzly beard. “Only a matter of time until these dragons sniff us out, and we’ve had enough close calls already.”

  “We hold until the last,” a third man said. He was taller than the rest. A hood covered his head, and he sat with his back to the wall. A sword, long and heavy, was strapped to his waist. He had a soldier’s look about him. “We have our orders, and we’ll die for the cause. For Balzurth.”

  Gorlee’s heart skipped a beat. Something special moved behind the scenes. Men were working with dragons. It was fascinating. He shouldn’t be shocked. After all, the evil dragons were working with Barnabus. Still, it seemed odd. He shifted in his chair, moving his back and ear toward them.

  “Balzurth will deliver. All will hold true,” another woman said. A hood was draped over her head as well. Her garb was faded and dirty, but she hand beautifully manicured hands, with indentations where she usually wore jeweled rings. “We must await new orders.”

  “I hope we aren’t just going to leave more marks,” the bearded one said. “We need greater action. I want to do something bold.”

  “Not while the Truce holds,” the tall man said. “It aids our cause.”

  “Pah,” said the bearded one. “I say we take Nath Dragon and run him home.
”

  “He’s a thousand feet up in the tower,” the first woman said. “It’s not possible. Selene won’t let him out.”

  “We’ll push him out. Hah!” said the bearded one. “He survived that fall. He’ll survive again, and we’ll scurry him away.”

  “Not with a dozen dragons watching him.” The leader sighed. “He must take care of himself. We take care of ourselves.”

  The group became quiet, and the air seemed to thicken. Gorlee scooted his chair back toward the corner and rested his hairy forearms on the table. Feeling eyes on his ugly half-orc form, he glanced up and found the hooded woman’s gaze locked on his. Her features were striking. She whispered to the taller man at her side. He glanced Gorlee’s way with hard brown eyes, nodded to the bearded one, and dropped some coins on the table. The group headed for the door.

  Go in peace, Gorlee thought, avoiding their eyes.

  As the group closed in toward the door, another figure stepped through the entrance: the brawny form of a winged draykis, with two more on his flanks. The small party froze. The rest of the patrons gasped. Chairs scraped the floor.

  The winged draykis, decorated in plate-mail armor with the insignia of Barnabus, blocked the exit while the other pair drifted through the room, bumping bodies and tables.

  Gorlee’s breath became heavy. The draykis were outstanding hunters. Bounty hunters, in this case. They’d strung up more than a score of rebels in the past few weeks. Clearly, they weren’t finished.

  “Any traitors here?” the draykis commander said in a deep, garbled voice. “A sack of coin for reward.” The dragon-faced man scoured the crowd. His fanged face was lean and terrifying. His eyes bright coals. “The High Priestess is known for her generosity.”

  Everyone averted their eyes. The citizens were certain that many who had already been hung were innocent of the crime, but the soldiers of Barnabus didn’t care. The slightest doubt about your allegiance, and they’d drag you out for hanging.

  A draykis stopped at Gorlee’s table and stared down at him. Its tongue flickered from its mouth, and it said, “You’re even uglier than me. I think a noose is best suited for your neck.”