The Dragon Oracles: Omnibus Edition (The Eastern Kingdom Omnibus Book 1)

by T. J. Garrett

  She handed him the map. “Send three groups of ten. I want every tunnel covered. If the little minx makes it through to the Karan Valley…”

  “My lady?”

  Vila sighed. Does he not remember anything? “If Sek senses her, it could—”

  Ebon raised his head in sudden realisation. “Sek would be… confused if another Oracle was close by. Of course, Ma’am, I will assemble the men immediately. Maybe we should have attacked Bren’alor first.”

  “We would have, if Sek hadn’t grown a conscience while he was away. That fool Agerman, I wish I could kill him again. This should all be over by now.”

  The general turned and marched quickly to the door.

  “Oh, and, Ebon. She is nothing but a threat; kill her.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The general bowed, and left.

  So, thought they’d ask for the Old One’s help, did they. I’ll show her; little madam. Trapper nuzzled up against her leg. She bent and scratched his ear. “Not much longer now, boy. We will be out of this foul hole soon enough.”

  Vila lay back down on the bed. She would have dressed, but the damn Shard was pulsing again. It did that every time she left the dragons. They would have to leave the tunnels soon; she didn’t want to sleep her way through her greatest victory.

  CHAPTER 29

  Watch and Learn

  “It’s all about the Powers, Gialyn,” Alacin told him, when he asked what they were waiting for.

  “But it’s been three hours! Fran has already been down there and seen where they are keeping her. Can’t we just sneak into the camp and get her out?” Gialyn peered over the rocks, down into the Kel’madden camp.

  Gialyn and the others were up high, almost halfway to the ceiling, overlooking the cavern where the Kel’madden had made their camp. The tunnel they had followed was behind them. To their right, a steep, narrow track led down to the cavern floor. Gialyn was surprised Vila’slae had not posted guards on that track. But then, she probably wasn’t expecting an attack from half a dozen farmers and poachers. The campfires lit the cavern in an orange glow and sent ominous shadows dancing across the walls and ceiling. It was quiet; there were few signs of movement from the Troopers. But it would be morning before long. Cave or not, the Kel’madden would soon start their day. We should go now.

  “One man catching a peek at a prisoner isn’t the same as rescuing them,” Alacin said. “There are guards all over those tents; a single shout will bring them all down on us. No, we must wait for this… Tamson fellow.”

  Apparently, Tamson had spoken to Alacin. Well, he’d been speaking to Brea, but Alacin was the one who had heard the message: the old man was on his way to help them.

  Alacin squatted down behind the rocks and took a swig from his waterskin. He looked relaxed; Gialyn did not understand how he could be so calm. Has he done this sort of thing before?

  Gialyn wasn’t sure he trusted Alacin – not with Elspeth’s safety. But maybe that was because, when he looked at Alacin, he saw Ealian’s face staring back at him. Ealian had already deceived them once. Yes, Gialyn knew his betrayal was the work of the Black Raic who had infected him, but Dead Man’s Vein or not, Elspeth’s brother had never been trustworthy. As for Alacin… Well, Gialyn hardly knew him. The Cren might have his own plans; he might not think of Elspeth as a priority.

  “I don’t see how a load of bugs are going to help this time,” Gialyn said, taking the proffered waterskin. “There must be five hundred of those Troopers down there; we’re not going to scare them off with a few beetles and bats.”

  “Who said anything about beetles and bats?” Alacin said. “There are worse things in the tunnels than that.”

  The three Salrian poachers had been listening and were now looking at each other with puzzled expressions on their faces.

  “Like what?” Lud asked, a little too loudly for Gialyn’s liking.

  Fran poked Lud in the ribs and hushed him with a finger to his lips, and then stared at Alacin with an answer-the-question look on his face. Olg mirrored Fran’s expression perfectly.

  The poachers hadn’t wanted to wait for the crazy old man, either. Olg, more than once, had suggested a plan that, to Gialyn’s mind, sounded perfectly feasible. However, that was probably because anything seemed better than doing nothing. Every minute they waited was another minute Elspeth would have to spend scared and alone. The thought of it was more than Gialyn could stand. What were they doing to her? Was she even alive? He put a hand on his knee to stop it shaking. Yes, he could run down there and fetch her, horde of Troopers or not. He knew he could – which frankly surprised him; he knew he would happily risk his life for her, and even though the attempt would be futile, he still wanted to do it.

  Alacin sighed, and then answered in what Gialyn thought was a reluctant whisper: “The Karakin.”

  Fran gulped, and Lud’s jaw dropped.

  “Are you out of your mind, boy?” Olg asked him. The old Salrian blinked back and forth between Fran and Lud. “If I thought the Karakin could get into this cavern, I wouldn’t be here. Friends in danger or not, nothing is worth losing your soul.” The other two nodded in agreement.

  Losing your soul…? Gialyn couldn’t help but look around the cavern. For one fearful moment, he expected a pack of Spirit Wolves to come running through the walls. Not that he knew anything about the Karakin, only what folk would say in whispers to scare each other on a dark night, but he was sure he didn’t want to meet any of them.

  Alacin stared back. “Don’t worry, they can’t get in here; they are bound to the main tunnels. But if we can make enough of the Troopers think they can… We should be able to scare them off.”

  Alacin didn’t look entirely sure of himself; maybe he wasn’t convinced that the old man would help him with this… illusion?

  “And how are you going to do that?” Olg asked.

  The old Salrian seemed relieved. He laughed quietly and put his hand on Fran’s shoulder. Fran sighed, too. A nervous smile creased the young Salrian’s face. They both looked like men pulled from the edge of a cliff.

  “When this… Tamson arrives,” Alacin began, “we should be able to summon a few visions. I’m sure he has the Voice. If we can use that to plant the idea of a Karakin attack in enough of the Kel’madden’s minds, then with a little luck, we can start a panic. I have no doubt they will have heard of the Cursed Alphas. I understand this witch has come across them before. While they are running around in a panic, we will snatch Elspeth and run as we have never run before. I doubt the illusion will hold for very long. We will have to time it perfectly and—”

  A deafening boom rang in the cavern. Gialyn covered his ears and curled himself into a ball. “What the…?” A flash, as bright as a lightning bolt, but light blue, blinded him for a second. Then there was another boom.

  Slowly, Gialyn peeped over the rim of rocks. An enormous blue sphere hung in the air in the centre of the cavern. Through it, Gialyn could see what looked like another world, full of mist and cloud. An enormous ghostly-white dragon climbed out of the hole the blue sphere made as if it were stepping into another room, not another world. The beast appeared transparent in places, and yet its feet crushed tents, toppled weapon racks, and sent the Kel’madden scurrying. It was real!

  Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Gialyn pulled his gaze from the dragon and saw Fran pointing to the far left of the cavern. An old man was standing with his cane raised in the air. The blue sphere seemed to be emanating from the end of it. Gialyn could barely see him through the dust and mist, but he was sure it was Tamson – who else could it be?

  “All things considered,” Fran said to Alacin, “I like his plan better.”

  “Is that…?”

  Hurry, hmm, get the pretty lady, get the pretty lady, hmm, hmm.

  “Did you hear…?”

  “Yes, I heard,” Alacin shouted. Gialyn could hardly hear him over the din. “Come on, it appears our minds have been made up for us. The crazy old fool.”

 
Gialyn followed Fran down the narrow track that descended into the cavern. The screams of dying Kel’madden echoed all around. He glanced to his left and nearly stumbled at the sight of the White Dragon. Crazed Kel’madden were throwing spears, rocks, tables; anything they could find, but they all passed through the dragon’s body as if it were made of the mist gushing from the blue sphere. Yet, it was solid enough when it attacked. Weapon racks, tents, cook fires: the dragon destroyed them all. White fire flowed from its mouth in a thin stream, burning everything in its path. Kel’madden were running in all directions. Some ran back along the tunnel, some moved south, a few even tried climbing the walls to get away. It might have been funny if it wasn’t so bloody. The dead lay everywhere.

  Five Troopers began to climb the very track Gialyn and the others were descending. Gialyn pulled his knife and made ready to attack, but the Kel’madden ignored them. They ran on by, not even raising an eye to him or the Salrians. Alacin shook his head at the sight of them and carried on. Fran pulled his long blade and made a move towards the Troopers, but Olg pulled him back. The old man shrugged. “There’s plenty of trouble around without looking for it,” he told Fran. Gialyn thought he saw the Olg smile. Maybe he thought it was funny.

  They picked their way along the edge of the Kel’madden camp, climbing over ruined tents and broken racks. The centre was all but empty, but still the dragon raged. Fran pointed at the tent where he had seen a guard taking water to Elspeth.

  Olg and the others stood guard while Gialyn and Fran split off and made their way to the tent. The guard was gone, apparently, but the tent seemed quiet, too. Was Elspeth still in there? Gialyn braced himself and went in.

  Fran stood guard.

  It was dark inside and smelled of salted meat. He couldn’t see anything moving in the shadows, not after the near blinding light of the cavern. He couldn’t hear anything, either. But that didn’t mean much, not with all the noise still going on outside. “Elspeth,” he whispered, “Elspeth, are you here?”

  A murmur rose from the corner behind a tall stack of crates. “Is that you, Gialyn? Gods, is that really you?”

  Gialyn stumbled, knocking over jars and crates in his rush to reach her. He pulled the pile of crates down. Elspeth was huddled in the corner, tears of joy in her eyes. He dropped to his knees and hugged her tight. Even amidst all that carnage, all the fear, he couldn’t remember a better moment, a happier moment. “I thought I’d lost you, Elspeth. Don’t you know I’d die without you? I’m not leaving your side until we get back to Albergeddy.”

  Elspeth pulled away, she looked… shocked, but still smiled.

  I’ve done it now, he thought. He remembered something his father had said, “When it come to love, boy, don’t you go saying it; women are hard enough to handle without you giving them a head start.” But I haven’t told her I love her. Well… I’ve as good as told her. Untie her, you fool; are you going to kneel there all day?

  He could have stayed there, looking into her eyes, holding her. The world seemed to fall away within her embrace. He leaned over her shoulder and cut the bindings at her wrists. She untied her feet while he searched for her belongings.

  “Your brother is here,” he said, absently, not thinking much of it at all.

  “What! Why is he here? Gods, has that… thing in his head driven him mad. Why would he—? Where is he?”

  “He’s outside.”

  Elspeth didn’t say another word. She threw her bindings away and pulled on her boots, then hunted around the tent for the rest of her gear.

  Gialyn took a quick drink from his waterskin and waited. This wasn’t quite the welcome he had anticipated, not that he was expecting her to turn giddy and weak-kneed at the sight of him, but maybe a little more appreciation would have been nice. After all, he had just risked his life to save her.

  “What is it?” he asked, staring at her as she stood with a white cloth in her hand.

  “Where’s the worm?”

  “Worm? What…? Elspeth!”

  Elspeth shrieked as a long, brown… thing, which only vaguely looked like any worm Gialyn had ever seen, flew out from the shadows and landed on her shoulder. She yanked the worm off and threw it to the ground. The worm coiled up like a spring and made another leap. Elspeth batted it away with her bow.

  “Get behind me,” Gialyn shouted. He pulled his knife, while placing himself between her and the worm. “What the hell is it?”

  “They call it a ‘lungworm.’ They must have brought— There! Move!”

  The worm slithered across the ground, faster than Gialyn could back away. He and Elspeth fell backwards over a crate. The air left his lungs as he landed flat on his back. Struggling to focus, Gialyn raised his knife and scanned for the foul beast. Elspeth let out a scream. The worm was on top of one of the crates. It wound itself into a coil and sprung at Elspeth.

  Before Gialyn could react, a strange dog-like animal jumped up, catching the worm in mid-flight. The dog thrashed its head from side to side, flung the worm down, and then immediately pounced on it again, biting off its head – Gialyn thought it was the head; it was the end with the teeth, at any rate. The strange black and white animal spat it out, coughing and wretching. Apparently, the worm didn’t taste very nice.

  “Good boy, Trapper,” Elspeth said.

  “Uh, do you know that thing?”

  Elspeth said nothing. Instead, she picked up the remainder of her gear and left the tent.

  Gialyn was still lying on the floor. He stared at the tent flap as it swayed back and forth. “I’ll just wait here, shall I?” he shouted. The strange dog looked at him and then followed Elspeth. Gialyn shook his head; this rescue definitely wasn’t unfolding the way he had expected. He pulled himself to his feet and, after a last look at the decapitated worm, he left, too.

  “Where is he?” Elspeth was arguing with Fran, her fists on her hips and a tight glare in her eye. “…and don’t just say he’s gone. People don’t just walk off in the middle of all this.” She waved her hand, taking in the scene, and then stopped dead at the sight of the White Dragon. Gulping, she took a few steps back. “How did that get in here?”

  Pretty lady safe, good, hmm, hmm. Not a minute too soon, hmm. Bausamon must go, Bausamon should not be here. Hmm, hmm. Hurry, you must run. Take the other one, too. You must run.

  “Who is Bausamon, and what ‘other one’?” Elspeth asked. “And is that… Tamson? I thought I heard him before, but…”

  “Yes, it’s Tamson,” Gialyn said. “Bausamon must be the dragon. I don’t know who the ‘other one’ is, unless he means Brea.” Gialyn scanned around what was left of the Kel’madden camp. “Where is your brother? We can’t stay here; it’s too dangerous.”

  “We’re not leaving without him. Who is this… Brea?” Elspeth barked. It was strange how quickly she could revert to her old self.

  Ignoring the ‘Brea’ question, for the moment, Gialyn searched for Alacin. “I didn’t say we should leave,” he told Elspeth, “but we need to hurry. Which way did he go, Fran?”

  Fran pointed towards a large tent. Gialyn saw Alacin crawling out from under the tarp.

  “Of course, he’s gone for the bloody Shard.” Gialyn wanted to shout at him; was the Shard all he cared about?

  There were still a few dozen Kel’madden Troopers milling around. “Come on Alacin,” he whispered.

  “What Shard?” Elspeth asked him. “Is that why he is here? For a stupid stone? What’s going on? Where are Arfael and Olam? If my brother is here, where are they?”

  Gialyn didn’t know if she was angry because she was scared, or angry because her own brother was more concerned over the Shard than rescuing her. “I’ll explain later. It’s a long story.”

  Alacin, stone in hand, smiled as he re-joined the others. Elspeth stared at him for a long moment and then threw her arms around his neck. Alacin patted her on her back.

  “Nice to see you, too, Miss Tanner.”

  “Miss Tanner? Miss Tanner! Where’s my broth
er? Bring him out; I want to speak to him.”

  Fran pointed at the Shard. “You might have said you were going for that… thing.”

  “I only thought of it at the last minute. I knew if the witch hadn’t taken it, it would be in the biggest tent. Quite a fortunate turn of events,” he said, throwing the stone in the air and catching it. “Shall we go; I think the dragon is leaving, and Olam will be wondering what has happened to us.”

  “My brother?” Elspeth asked. Her tone was menacing; she was ready for one of her arguments.

  “Once we are out of the tunnels, Miss Tanner. You can speak to him when we are free of this place.”

  Alacin gazed into nothing. Gialyn thought Ealian was probably arguing with him, too – what a strange life that must be.

  “What’s that?” Fran said, pointing at the black and white animal that was now sitting at Elspeth’s feet.

  “It’s Trapper, the witch’s, uh, dog? I think.”

  Fran shrugged, and Lud turned toward the path. “Never mind all that; let’s go. No point standing around here waiting to get captured, again,” he said, while shooting Elspeth a squinted, sideways glance.

  Gialyn followed as Fran led the way back along the trail. He took a last look to his right. The dragon was gone and the blue sphere was shrinking. He couldn’t see Tamson, either. He hoped the old man was safe. He is more than just a Raic, that’s for sure. Ha, ‘just a Raic.’ When did I start thinking like that?

  He put a hand out to help Elspeth up the steep incline. She took it, and once on level ground, she let go. With a shy smile, she mumbled a “thank you,” then moved a few paces in front. The strange dog followed at her heel. What was I thinking, ‘I’ll die without you…’? Gods, why did I have to say that?

  “Are we bringing that thing with us?” Lud asked Alacin, pointing at the dog.

  Alacin shrugged. “If it follows, it follows. We haven’t got time to mess around.”

  “We could kill it,” Lud said, tapping the hilt of his knife. “Would make a good supper.”