Wrath of the Dragon King

by Brandon Mull

  “What would Stan and Ruth do to us if we even suggested it?” Newel said.

  “Stan and Ruth are not our grandparents,” Knox said. “The Larsens are. Seth and Kendra are my cousins.”

  “That doesn’t make you disposable,” Doren said.

  “How safe are we here?” Knox asked. “There’s a murderer loose. Didn’t they say the road is protected? We might be safer if we go. And we might actually be useful, too.”

  Newel stroked his chin. “Not a bad argument. Let’s face it. The girl will be safe with the cloak on. And Kendra and Seth need help.”

  “And I’m sick of being stuck in this boring fort with a killer,” Knox said. “I want to do something.”

  “This could all go terribly wrong,” Doren said. “We could get eaten. And by ‘we’ I mean you and your sister. Newel and I have a knack for escape.”

  “Especially when we’re with somebody slower who can serve as bait,” Newel said.

  Doren elbowed him.

  “As long as we don’t steal anything or harm anybody, the cloak protects all of us,” Doren summarized.

  “But it turned black for me,” Knox said.

  “Under the protection of Tess, we all get to start fresh,” Newel said.

  “If one of us under the protection breaks the spell, we are all exposed,” Doren reminded him.

  “Then we don’t break the spell,” Knox said, “and we’ll all be fine. Easy.”

  Newel cringed. “Don’t label any endeavor as ‘easy’! No matter how much you think it. Is this your first day on Earth? Avoid saying ‘nothing can go wrong,’ ‘all our trouble is behind us,’ and ‘this ship can never sink.’”

  “Common knowledge,” Doren said. “Even among the least superstitious.”

  “I’m not superstitious,” Knox said. “It doesn’t matter if I think something will be easy or hard. It will be what it is going to be.”

  “This guy might become a philosopher,” Doren said.

  Newel put his fists on his wooly hips. “A really unlucky philosopher.”

  “We have what we need,” Knox said. “Let’s go.”

  “I doubt we can get permission,” Newel said. “And we can’t just march off down the road. We’ll be spotted.”

  “I’ve been scouting,” Doren said. “There’s a secret way out of the fort. One below a wall without guards.”

  “Could we make it to cover?” Newel asked.

  “Maybe thirty yards to cover,” Doren said. “Then we can stay under trees until we join up with the road out of sight.”

  “Why the road if we have the cloak?” Knox asked.

  “We want as much safety as possible,” Newel said. “With Tess wearing the cloak, we can venture off the road as needed.”

  “I’m excited to learn the lay of the land here,” Doren said.

  “Dragon sanctuaries are legendary,” Newel agreed. “And of course we want to find Seth and Kendra.”

  “Stan and Ruth will flip when they find us missing,” Knox said.

  “I’ll leave a note in our room,” Doren said. “I’ll explain we want to help with Kendra and Seth, and we felt like a fort with a murderer loose was not a safe environment for children.”

  “That’s good,” Newel said. “Sounds responsible.”

  “More responsible than they deserve,” Doren said. “Who trusts satyrs to babysit?”

  “Very distracted people,” Newel said. “Should we pack up and go?”

  “No sense waiting,” Doren said.

  “How did you find the secret door?” Knox asked.

  “When I get bored, I follow people,” Doren said. “From a distance. A certain minotaur who normally works in the dungeon has used this passage once or twice when he thought he was unobserved.”

  “That’s shady,” Newel said. “Could he be the murderer?”

  “I don’t think so,” Doren said. “I had suspicions too, and watched him carefully. He went to relieve his bladder in the woods and walked under the trees for a short time. Smelled some flowers. I think he just likes to get away from the dungeon from time to time.”

  “Good detective work,” Newel said. “Knox, grab your sister. Doren, write the note. I’ll gather supplies.”

  Tess wandered back over to them and held up a knotted mass of string connected to a yo-yo. “See, I told you it gets tangled.”

  Traitor

  Kendra sat on the floor in the same room where the dragons had held the feast. Her back was against the wall, and a chain connected an iron shackle on one ankle to a spike in the floor. She had expected a dungeon, but instead she remained in the same vast room with Celebrant and several other dragons. After some goblins had chained her to the spike, she had received no further attention.

  Seth had not yet appeared, which she considered a good sign. Celebrant had mentioned that he meant to take her brother alive. Hopefully his absence meant he had somehow given the dragons the slip. She tried not to think about him possibly being dead.

  Watching the dragons was interesting. They were so large, so foreign, so powerful. The way they stretched their necks or flexed their wings. The way their sides billowed as they breathed. The scrape of their claws over the rocky floor of the room. Kendra felt like she was at an exotic zoo, except inside the cage.

  Even all together in this huge chamber, the dragons did not socialize much. Most curled up and appeared to sleep. A few paced about. They struck her as basically solitary creatures enduring a social environment.

  “Want a drink?” someone asked.

  Kendra looked up and found that Ronodin had approached. “You’re still here?”

  “You’re back,” Ronodin said, sitting down beside her and handing her a cup. “Just water. Nothing gross. I brought some berries, too.” He set a bowl between them. “Lots of good leftovers from the feast still.”

  “Why are you being nice to me?” Kendra asked. “What do you want?”

  “I believe in courtesy,” Ronodin said. “We want a civilized world.”

  “Are you after Bracken’s horn?” she asked.

  “Always,” Ronodin said. “Nobody could take it from you if they tried. They didn’t bother to confiscate any of your gear. Careless. Never underestimate an enemy.”

  “You think I can cause trouble chained up here?” Kendra asked.

  “Many of our worst choices are made due to overconfidence,” Ronodin said.

  “You seem confident,” Kendra said.

  Ronodin smiled. “I’m in touch with reality, so of course I’m confident. But overconfidence is sloppy. Have some berries. I selected only the ripest.”

  Kendra eyed the bowl. What if they were poisoned? Or sabotaged somehow.

  “If I wanted to harm you, there are easier ways,” Ronodin said.

  “I’m not supposed to underestimate an enemy,” Kendra said.

  “I captured Bracken and helped the dragons,” Ronodin said. “I guess that looks bad. The berries are fine.”

  Kendra took out Bracken’s horn and used it to stir the berries.

  “You’re teasing me,” Ronodin said.

  “I’m purifying your offering,” Kendra replied. She put the horn away and tried a raspberry. Ronodin was right. It was perfect. “Thanks.”

  “Festival night tomorrow,” Ronodin said. “That will probably be the night you lose the war.”

  “Feels like I already lost,” Kendra said.

  Ronodin laughed lightly. “You personally may have already lost. But this is just the start. Your whole side probably loses tomorrow. The dragons win.”

  “This is because of your advice?” Kendra asked.

  “It’s impolite to brag,” Ronodin said.

  “You shouldn’t be proud,” Kendra said. “What did you tell them?”

  He popped a berry into his mouth. “I’m almost
tempted to tell you. Here you are, chained up and helpless. If we’re going to have a war, a connoisseur wants it at least to be interesting. Do you like sports?”

  “Generally, yes,” Kendra said.

  “How about basketball?”

  “Sure.”

  “Right now the Dragons are ahead of the Children by at least seventy points,” Ronodin said. “Their players are seasoned pros, spectacular athletes, most of them over seven feet tall. The Children are a team of young novices, still trying to learn to dribble, and none have reached the five-foot mark. How much fun is it to watch that lopsided game?”

  “Fun if you like the Dragons,” Kendra said.

  Ronodin winced. “Is it? Even if you adore the Dragons, you want them to be tested a little. A discerning fan hopes for some excitement. A chance for talent to be displayed. An opportunity for some heroism.”

  “What can you tell me?” Kendra asked.

  “Nothing,” Ronodin said. “I’m Team Dragons all the way. I was just explaining why giving you a hint is tempting.”

  “I think it’s kind of funny that you’re scared to give me a tip,” Kendra said. She shook her leg, jangling her chain.

  “Not scared, just careful,” Ronodin said. “No need to take unnecessary risks. Especially with nothing in return.” He leaned close, and his voice dropped to a whisper. Kendra tried to ignore the sincere intensity in his eyes. How crazy was she to find anything about him charming under these conditions? “Now, if you give me Bracken’s horn, I will tell you the secret—and break you out of here tonight.”

  Kendra paused. What good was the horn if the dragons won? What would happen to the horn if the dragons killed her? Could Ronodin just take it anyway?

  “I’m sorry,” Kendra said. “The Children want to win on their own.”

  “You hesitated,” Ronodin said. “It’s a good deal.”

  “Why do you want the horn?” Kendra asked.

  “Too many questions,” Ronodin said. “It’s creating a toxic atmosphere.” He stood up. “You want a guaranteed loss instead of a chance. Interesting strategy. I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy the berries.”

  He walked away. Kendra tugged on the chain. It was secure.

  She needed a plan! But what could she do? They had not confiscated her bow, but if she shot any arrows, they probably would. And what good were arrows against dragons? She could use her sack to make wind, but again, they would just take it from her when it ran out.

  She was chained up. She was stuck.

  And Ronodin was gone. If he came back, should she consider his offer? Not if it might make Bracken vulnerable to him. It wasn’t worth it. She would rather die. Bracken had trusted her with the horn. She had to hold true to that.

  A goblin blew a trumpet.

  “Announcing the Somber Knight,” the goblin declared.

  Kendra stood, her chain rattling.

  The Somber Knight came striding into the room, an imposing figure encased in full armor that left no flesh visible. He held an enormous sword, with another smaller one across his back, a slender chain looped at his side, and several knives in various sheaths. It looked like he had seen some fighting recently—his armor was scuffed, with grassy clods of earth stuck here and there. A huge bull made of tar trailed behind him.

  “You are unwelcome, Sir Knight,” Celebrant said from his platform at the far end of the great hall.

  “If I were welcome here I would be doing my job poorly,” the Somber Knight said, still walking.

  “You recently slew two of my subjects,” Celebrant said.

  “You recently declared war,” the Somber Knight replied.

  “I am a caretaker,” Celebrant said. “You serve me.”

  “I am here to remedy that,” the Somber Knight said, coming to a standstill. “The dragons I dispatched were attacking a caretaker.” He gestured at Kendra. “You have the other caretaker chained up here. And you have declared war.”

  “Mind your tongue,” Celebrant said. “Soon I will be the sole overseer of Wyrmroost.”

  “Not so,” the Somber Knight said, raising his sword. “As Dragon Slayer of Wyrmroost, enforcer of the treaty, I find you in violation of your caretaker’s oath.”

  “Nonsense,” Celebrant said. “The other caretakers were out of order.”

  “You were only ever a junior caretaker to them,” the Somber Knight said. “I hereby revoke your title, including all rights and privileges as a caretaker of Wyrmroost.” He planted the tip of the sword against the stone floor. A small shock wave radiated outward from that point, accompanied by a sound like breaking glass.

  Kendra smiled. Stripping Celebrant of his role as caretaker was a step in the right direction.

  “Very well,” Celebrant said, anger in his tone. “Who needs to be a lowly caretaker when he is king! Stripping my title is an act of aggression. You no longer have heraldic immunity.”

  “Your move,” the Somber Knight said.

  “Attack him,” Celebrant called. “Destroy him!”

  Kendra gasped as dragons swept in from all directions, blocking the Somber Knight from view. His bull charged one of the dragons from behind.

  Grabbing her sack of gales, Kendra pointed the mouth toward the knight and loosed the drawstring. With the howl of a raging typhoon, wind gushed from the mouth of the sack. The dragons who were airborne immediately twisted in crooked ways, three of them slamming brusquely against the far wall. Only those on the ground could resist the gale, keeping low, wings tucked. The wind did not seem to bother the Somber Knight, who was busy carving deep gashes into the base of an orange dragon’s neck.

  Kendra felt a rush of air from one side and found Raxtus had landed beside her. She had not seen the fairy dragon since Jaleesa had taken her captive. Should she turn the sack on him? Was he attacking? Before she could determine his intent, Raxtus quickly bit through the chain near her ankle, leaving only a few links connected to the manacle.

  “Come on,” Raxtus said, grabbing Kendra with his front claws and springing into the air. Kendra yanked the drawstring closed.

  “Raxtus!” Celebrant thundered. “Don’t do this! Traitor! Stop him!”

  Raxtus zoomed toward the exit as other dragons closed on him. He spiraled and weaved to avoid swiping claws and gnashing teeth. A large black dragon blocked the exit, but Raxtus swooped up and shot out through an opening high in the wall.

  The speed left Kendra breathless as they whistled through the afternoon air. Roars sounded from all directions as dragons joined the pursuit. Kendra noticed that Raxtus was shimmering brighter than usual—certain magical creatures drew power from her upon physical contact, and Raxtus was one of them.

  “The Somber Knight,” Kendra said.

  “He’s on his own,” Raxtus replied. “Doesn’t stand much of a chance. Most dragons have wanted a piece of him for a long time. He has killed a lot of us over the years.”

  “What’s your plan?” Kendra asked as Raxtus steeply ascended. Below and behind them, many dragons followed.

  “I’m getting you out of here,” Raxtus said. “Hopefully back to Blackwell Keep. I just needed a diversion. The Somber Knight gave me the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.”

  They flew into a cloud. Kendra closed her eyes against the stinging mist. Raxtus tucked her close against himself, sheltering her as much as possible, but at high speed through moist air, there was no keeping Kendra dry.

  They burst through the top of the cloud into the sunlight, and suddenly the world looked pillowy and safe, no dragons in sight. Clutched by Raxtus, Kendra felt more secure than in the griffin saddle. She had traveled like this before and felt confident he would not drop her. “What will happen to you?” Kendra asked.

  “My father will disown me,” Raxtus said. “I’ll be wanted for treason.”

  “Death penalty?” Kendra asked.

 
“A traitor’s death,” Raxtus said. “Bones scattered.”

  “I thought you intended to side with your father,” Kendra said.

  “I did,” Raxtus replied. “I wanted to live up to all his expectations. I wanted to make him proud. Even if he was just using me. I knew I could surprise him. Surprise everyone. Rise to the occasion.”

  Dragons began to emerge from the tops of the clouds. Raxtus tucked his wings and dove. Cool vapor doused Kendra as they knifed through foggy air. Kendra’s stomach flip-flopped as they plunged and swerved. Dragons bellowed.

  Back in view of the ground, Kendra saw that not only were the dragons on their tail, but distant dragons were converging on them as well. They could not flee forever.

  “And now you’re being hunted,” Kendra said.

  “Once you showed up as a prisoner, I knew I had to help you,” Raxtus said. “I’ve killed in battle, or hunting. I’ve never killed a captive, let alone a friend. If I had let them harm you, the most important part of me would have died. Probably forever. It was a point of no return. I could feel it. I wanted to be accepted by my father and my fellow dragons. But not at the cost of who I am. I thought for a time I could do both—be myself and have my father’s respect. I thought maybe I could help the dragons be more reasonable. Improve the system from the inside. I influenced them very little, but they were changing me a lot. In the end, it was one or the other—be myself, or please my father. I chose me. And loyalty to my real friends.”

  “Thank you, Raxtus,” Kendra said, tears in her eyes.

  “This feels good,” Raxtus said. “I’d rather die this way than live that way. This is the best I’ve felt in a long time.”

  Raxtus began changing directions erratically. Sometimes he rose, other times he plummeted down. The pursuing dragons continued to adjust, constricting the hunt ever tighter.

  “They are cutting off Blackwell Keep,” Raxtus said. “Keeping us away from there is clearly their top priority. Second priority is keeping dragons between us and the edge of the sanctuary. They don’t want us fleeing Wyrmroost.”

  “What does that leave us?” Kendra asked, watching forests and rivers below, miniaturized by their altitude.