by L. L. McNeil
‘And we have the ereven sphere. We might as well keep going. The Feor Mountains will be the best place to start looking for a dragon, anyway.’
‘The mountains? What makes you think that’s a good place to start?’
‘Topeko’s books—the older the dragon, the higher it will be. Sevastos wandered the skies of Linaria endlessly. So an old dragon, one that is powerful or might become a Sevastos, will be found at the tops of mountains or flying above clouds. Younger dragons are the common sight. They’re too young to fight an old dragon for territory, so they rarely venture too high. Not what we’re after.’
‘Smart girl.’ Kohl conceded, tipping his hat to her once again. ‘It would probably be wise if you three returned to the city. I can fly further and faster than any horse can run. I could be in the mountains before dawn.’
‘Trying to get rid of us that quickly, are you?’ Moroda laughed, brushing down the mane of the mare she had ridden with her fingers. ‘We’re in this together, remember. It means as much to the three of us as it does to you. If it takes an extra day, it takes an extra day.’
‘What about our stuff? Supplies? Proper clothes?’ Morgen asked.
‘We have clothes on our back, don’t we? If there are any villages, I’m sure we could trade some of these palace jewels for coin or food?’
Kohl ruffled his wings. ‘Time is of the essence, or did you misunderstand that?’
‘There’s no need to be rude,’ Eryn said. ‘You wanted to look after us and make sure we were all okay. Now we’re here, there’s no need to race off and leave us behind.’
Kohl sighed. ‘I don’t want to leave you behind. But I know the true danger of Aciel and his generals. Not to mention the danger of the creatures we seek. It makes more sense if I continue alone. The pace I wish to set would not be fair on any of you. Go back to Taban Yul. Find an inn, if not the palace, and get some rest.’
‘I don’t think you’re going to change our minds, Kohl,’ Moroda said. ‘We may not be able to fly as you can, but we started this together and that’s how we should finish it. Eryn doesn’t want to go back to the city, and if I’m honest, neither do I. I’ve spent the whole trip ignoring what she wanted, and look what happened!’
‘There’s not much for us in the city, anyway,’ Morgen said. ‘Sapora is off to be King, Amarah said she’d only ever take us as far as here. Palom and Anahrik will carry on their business now they’re home. Our party has broken up, so all the more reason for us to stick together considering the dangers.’
Kohl twitched his nose and scratched at his scarred lip. He stared at the falling snow and sighed. ‘I suppose you are on horseback. It’s not as if you’re as slow as on foot. But the snow is getting heavier by the minute.’
‘We’ll keep going until we can find some shelter to wait out the worst of the snow and get some rest in.’ Morgen suggested, looking at the path ahead. ‘We can use the time to work out how to approach a powerful dragon without getting burnt to a crisp!’
Moroda clambered on to her horse, her brow furrowed. She had been so preoccupied with how to find a dragon, she’d not stopped to think what to do once they found one. An old dragon would be more powerful than the drake that attacked Niversai. How would it be approached, let alone interacted with, distracted, or even, if it came to it, subdued?
She held the sphere in her hand, struggling a little with her blanket to keep covered from the falling snow. It worked in a similar way to her ring, but she had to pay close attention to the liquid inside to know the best course of action. As she predicted, it pointed straight towards the mountains. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Maybe we should look for something to feed it.’ Eryn said, once they were underway. ‘You know, how sometimes you approach an angry dog with a bit of meat? Makes it more likely to trust you?’
‘That’s not a bad idea.’ Morgen said, scratching his chin. ‘But I don’t think it’ll be too impressed if you compare it to a dog!’
‘That’s not what I meant!’
‘The books mention dragons and their intelligence. Sevastos, and a dragon of the age we seek will understand our tongue.’ Moroda said. ‘We’ll just need to talk to it, be polite and respectful. It’s a hundred year old creature.’
‘I never heard of a dragon that could talk.’ Morgen said as his horse crossed the brook.
‘I suppose Val Sharis seems to be the home of the old dragons.’
‘Still… I wonder how would it know not to eat us?’
‘Do not concern yourself with that, Morgen,’ Kohl said.
‘The dragons are not your gods for nothing.’
‘Your gods? Don’t you mean “our” gods?’ Eryn asked, turning her head to look back at Kohl.
‘No, I don’t. Arillians don’t hold with such nonsense.’ ‘Nonsense!’ Moroda said, almost stopping her horse in its tracks. ‘Arillians…?’
‘We follow quite a different lore. Rhea and her dragons are stories we speak of, but nothing more.’ He ruffled his wings and half leapt, half flew across a stretch of path.
Moroda’s teeth chattered as the icy breeze kissed her exposed skin.
‘Sorry, Moroda.’ Kohl landed a short distance from them. ‘Hardly realise I’m doing that, sometimes.’
‘But everyone in Linaria… even the Varkain—’ Morgen began.
‘I know everyone seems to be repulsed by the Varkain, but they are just as much of Linaria as you or the Samolen, or the Ittallan. We Arillians don’t even live on Linaria, we are above it. Our homes float. We are shielded by our powers. And all of the world has exiled us to the farthest reaches that we might never be seen or come into contact.’
‘Kohl, that’s so awful.’ Moroda frowned. ‘I didn’t realise.’
‘I understand Aciel. He is doing what he thinks is right. Why should an entire race be wiped out because of what our forefathers did? The world is against us. So he has decided to take the world back. He and Sapora have much in common.’
Moroda saw Eryn flinch at Sapora’s name, and her lip quivered. Eryn had been so strong. Always so strong. Quick-witted and clever, incredibly optimistic. To see her so anxious tore at her heart. She knew she was responsible for the change in her sister. So far she had kept her promise of doing as she asked, but she needed a long-term plan. What was she to do after they found the dragon?
Even if Aciel was stopped, how could she find peace when Linaria was so ravaged?
‘What did you mean when you said your homes float?’ Eryn asked, breaking Moroda from her thoughts.
Kohl sighed. ‘Arillians live on scattered islands far to the north. Those of us who are left. The islands are suspended, held aloft with our storms.’
‘Goodness. I should love to see that one day.’
‘Ryn…’ Moroda said.
‘Perhaps if peace ever comes to Linaria you will. As it stands, no-one visits our homeland in the same way non-Varkain do not enter Sereth.’
Moroda could feel the sadness in his voice. She could sense frustration, too, but he did not become angry. She pondered on his life before they met as the trees surrounding their path fell away a few leagues short of the base of the mountains. In the cold, crisp night, perfectly untouched snowy fields lay before the small party.
‘So beautiful.’ Moroda said, taking in the view. ‘See Eryn, we’d never see anything like this if we had stayed back in Niversai.’
Eryn nodded. ‘I know… I’m glad I came, Ro… but it hasn’t been easy.’
‘Hardest part is still to come.’ Moroda smiled. Despite Eryn’s earlier tears, it seemed she was finding her confidence again.
‘The sooner we find our dragon, the sooner we can bring an end to Aciel’s terror.’ Morgen said, taking point as he spurred his horse to the front of the group. ‘There’s got to be a village nearby where we can sleep for the night, before the snow gets too bad. We can leave first thing tomorrow.’
Eryn followed behind him, and Moroda took in the view for another minute before nudging her horse for
ward. Kohl, horseless, drifted above the group, exerting little energy to stay airborne as they crossed the snowy fields.
‘Do you want to fly ahead, Kohl? See if you can find anywhere we might rest?’ Morgen asked.
The quiet was shattered an instant later as a bolt of lightning ripped through the black of the night and crashed into the centre of the field. Morgen’s horse reared in fright, and he was thrown off, landing with a thud on the freshly fallen snow.
Moroda and Eryn’s horses were also spooked, but were further back and had not reared. ‘Morgen!’ Eryn called, clambering down and running over to where he lay in the snow. ‘Are you alright?’ She crouched down and pulled him up by his elbow.
‘Y—yeah. Just dazed. Snow cushioned the fall, I think.’ He said, sitting up, one hand on his head. ‘What happened?’
Kohl landed at once, his eyes locked on the Arillian hovering in the night sky just above them.
‘Well, well, well, what do we have here?’ Jato said from above, her dark wings almost invisible in the night. ‘What a find, what a find!’ She descended to the snowy field and landed softly; several other Arillians landed at her side, all in full battle armour.
Kohl stepped back and helped Morgen get to his feet, his feathers bristling.
‘Oh no, not again!’ Moroda clambered down from her horse and stood beside her sister, grabbing on to her arm.
From the looks of it, Jato had been preparing to come to Val Sharis—the armour she wore was lined with gold, delicately etched in winding patterns across the silver-grey surface. Like the other Arillians, she carried no weapon, and she folded her arms as she took in the sight before her.
‘Killing you three will be an excellent way to start the night.’ Jato said, her eyes glinting in the darkness. ‘I’m sure Aciel would be pleased.’
‘General, why kill them? They’ve done nothing to you.’ Kohl said, stepping forward.
‘Orders are orders, Kohl. Or have you been away so long you’ve forgotten how things work?’
Moroda gulped, holding onto her sister and taking a step back. Her horse stood nearby, whickering and pawing at the snow. ‘Eryn… we should run…’ She tried not to move her lips. She was grateful Jato’s attention was on Kohl.
‘We’d never outrun them.’ Morgen whispered back. ‘A whole scouting party… we’d never make it back to Taban Yul before they caught us. But they won’t be expecting us to stand and fight, I don’t think.’
‘Of course I haven’t forgotten.’ Kohl said, looking at the other Arillians. There were six in all.
Jato grinned and closed her eyes. ‘Good. Your first order is to eliminate those three.’
Kohl froze.
‘Aciel has now made his move, hadn’t you heard? After your attack… where is that woman with the scythe? She damned near sliced Aciel’s arm off! She’ll pay for that. You’ll all learn that Aciel is not to be crossed. We’re to kill anyone we come up against. Those three should be easy for you, shouldn’t they, great dragon slayer?’
‘Jato… Aciel is mistaken. You cannot—’
‘Don’t question your superiors! Or shall I add you to my list of people to eliminate?’ Jato snapped. ‘My loyalty is to Aciel, it always has been, and nothing will change that! Now I don’t have all night. Kill them now, or I will—and you afterwards.’
‘Kohl?’ Moroda took a step back, her heart thundering. She watched as he turned to face her, his hands shaking as he raised them. Moroda caught his eye, and looked away immediately.
‘I cannot… I…’ He spread his wings and slowly drifted into the air. ‘I am… sorry…’ His voice wavered. Kohl called upon his own powers and unleashed a wave of frost in all directions. The few surrounding trees collapsed under the sudden freeze, and sent up thick, dusty white smoke as they crashed into the snow.
When the dust settled, Kohl had vanished.
Jato and the other Arillians coughed as the dust surrounded them. ‘Traitor!’ She glared into the sky then turned to one of her Elites. ‘Follow him. Bring him back to me alive. He’ll pay for that. I don’t care who he is!’
‘Yes, Jato.’ He took off in a flurry of wind and feathers, charging after Kohl.
‘As for those three…’ Jato turned to glare down. ‘I need to report to Aciel. Finish them off, quickly. We’ll regroup after.’ She took to the air as soon as her order was given, and flew off in the opposite direction to Kohl, back towards Taban Yul.
Moroda knew there was no escaping this confrontation.
They were left with five Arillians, all of whom had been ordered to kill her, Eryn, and Morgen. There was no time to think or plan, no time to size up the situation. She gripped Eryn’s hand as Morgen rushed forward, sword drawn, and swung it up at the closest Arillian. He glanced at Morgen, avoided the strike by flying out of range, and replied with a short bolt of electricity. It connected with Morgen’s wrist and sent his sword careening from his grasp.
Morgen dove for his weapon and grabbed it as two of the other Elites flew overhead, their attentions on the sisters. The remaining horses had fled—they had little bottle in them at the best of time, and their frightened whinnies carried well through the crisp, cold air.
Moroda clenched her hands into fists, and felt the ring on her finger. To be used when a fight couldn’t be avoided. She stepped in front of Eryn and raised her hand; summoning all the strength she could muster to form a shield in front of her and her sister. She had nothing to draw energy from except her own body, and she was already tired from the events of the night and the ride outside the city. But the shield worked, repelling the Arillian’s vicious wind and electrical attacks, which singed away the snow to leave the scorched earth barren and blackened underneath.
Again and again they came, flying at her and shooting balls and bolts of lightning, their wind attacks blasting Moroda and Eryn where they stood, but the shield held through pure desperation.
Morgen sliced at the enemy as best he could, but the Arillian’s flight advantage stopped his attacks from connecting, and he found himself battered by their energy.
Thunder rolled around them, and sweat ran down Moroda’s forehead, her arm straining to keep her shield of energy up. But the strength came from her body, and it was running on empty.
‘Ro…’ Eryn stood beside her, her own arms raised as she fed Moroda’s shield with her own energy. It was a meagre effort, and Moroda could feel the shield weakening and she and Eryn tired.
Another bolt of lightning, and the shield halved. ‘Hold it, Ryn! We can… keep them away!’ Moroda had practiced the magic taught to her by Topeko and his books, but the strength of the Arillian’s attacks and fear threatened to overwhelm her. Three Arillians spiralled down from above, and Moroda tried to strengthen the shield, lifting her other hand to move more energy to it. Eryn trembled beside her. She felt the breath of the Arillian’s wind attacks and the sting of their electricity, and then snow crashed all around her again, filling the air with a white, whirling storm.
Moroda remembered little else from the battle. The Arillians attacked without hesitation and showed no mercy. The snow underfoot was swept away by the fury of their assault; already bare trees ripped up by their roots and cast about as vicious winds whipped around in a hurricane. Thunder roared through the air and the ground trembled. Moroda was knocked off her feet more than once by flailing branches, and it did not take long before blood and bruises littered her skin.
She had barely enough time to take in what was approaching her, much less keep on her feet or mount any sort of defence. The reduced visibility did not help, and her panic froze her feet in place. Where anyone else was, she had no clue—Eryn, Morgen, or the Arillians; they were little more than grey shadows lost in the swirling winds.
Every so often, Moroda would feel a jolt of intense heat as she was struck by an electrical blast. Whether they were direct hits or offshoots, she did not know, but the pain was cripplingly intense, and left her more stunned than when she was struck by one of the trees. Double
d over, Moroda sank to her knees, exhaustion taking hold. The biting cold from the snow left her legs and hands numb, and the pain in her head and stomach from multiple attacks drowned out everything else.
The wind was deafening, and she covered her ears, trying to keep low to the ground, hoping simply to survive the onslaught. It was only when a sudden splash of orange appeared among the dull greys and whites did she realise she was no longer alone.
Forcing herself up from her knees, Moroda stumbled back, her skirts snagging on an uprooted tree. She wrenched the cloth free, sending tiny jewels flying, and fell over to her side once again. As she looked up, she realised the roar was not from the whirling wind, but from the fangs of an enormous tiger that had joined the fray.
‘Moroda! Run!’ Morgen screamed, clutching his bloody arm as he limped over to her. Despite the cold, his hair was stuck to his forehead, sweat dripping down his cheeks.
‘Morgen!’ Moroda called, getting back to her feet, her eyes wide as she saw the extent of his injuries. ‘You’re hurt! Badly!’
‘Get away! Get back to the city!’ He spun around to dive out of the way of another bolt of lightning, the heat stinging Moroda’s cheeks as it passed. Morgen broke his fall with his good hand and immediately rolled away, narrowly avoiding the follow up attack.
Anahrik leapt to his defence, appearing in a flash and blocking the Arillian’s electricity with a short sword—it was little more than a dagger. Moroda watched in amazement as the blade glowed bright blue, reflecting light from the snow around them.
Anahrik took in a breath before pushing the Arillian back, his blade continuing to glow. The Arillian intensified his attacks, slivers of electricity bouncing off Anahrik’s blade, but nothing connected. Anahrik forced himself closer, deflecting the electricity, taking slow, determined steps until he was close enough to attack— in one, quick movement; he drew a second blade from the holder on his thigh and sliced clean through the Arillian’s hands.
He shrieked, blood gushing from his wrists, staining the ground a deep crimson, and he staggered backwards. Anahrik did not relent, and forced him further and further back as he slashed with the blades. The Arillian could not call upon his magic and could not defend against Anahrik’s flurry of attacks.