Desolation (Dragonlands Book 4)
Page 20
Tressa's eyes grew wide. She stood on her hind legs, slashing at the rocks with her front legs, her talons screeching across the stone in a discordant tune.
"Tressa, stop!" Connor yelled. "I don't know if Decarian is dead. We can't let him escape."
Still, she bashed at the rocks, not stopping until her front feet were bloody and her talons broken. She backed away, resting her head on the ground. Tears poured from her slitted eyes.
"What is it?" Connor asked. "What are you looking for?"
Then he realized who she was missing: Jarrett.
"Jarrett broke free before the castle collapsed," Connor said, attempting to keep anger out of his voice. "I don't know where he is."
Tressa's head swayed from side to side. So it wasn't Jarrett she was looking for. Then who? Connor's stomach sank. Of course. Fi. He didn't know the woman well, but she and Tressa had become close quickly. They had also left the Dragonlands together, heading for Desolation. Tressa had made it back over the mountains. But Fi—what fate had befallen her friend?
Epilogue
Donovan smelled the smoke from the explosives as he and Fi re-entered the castle. He grabbed her hand, tugging her down the stairs toward the castle dungeon. Fi had fought back, but Donovan was too strong, his fingers holding her wrists with a steel grip.
They reached Decarian's lair just as the staircase collapsed, bringing down a rain of rock and sand. Donovan covered his mouth with his cape and urged Fi to do the same with her cloak. They ran through the hail until they slid to a stop inside a cavern.
Donovan looked up at Decarian's mighty body. His muscles rippled from his shoulders down to his legs, hidden in flame. Donovan smiled, and then coughed. This body was wearing on him. He'd put it together hastily. Usually he took more time when he constructed a new body, but he hadn't had time.
Donovan had slunk out of his cave on the Isle of Repose after those fools had left him. He had Jarrett under his control, but he'd lost the big Blue dragon. He couldn't survive on the flesh of the baby dragons Jarrett had slain in the cave. No, he needed real meat.
So Donovan, better known as the Keeper, had taken the body of the dead mage, the father of that simpering blond healer, and used his skin to make a new body.
He had opened his kit. It held not only his flint and pipe, but also his sewing supplies. While Jarrett was out securing the island, Donovan peeled the flesh off the dead man. He used his needle to sew himself a new suit. The man's skin had been pink and supple, perfect for what Donovan had in mind. Though he altered the face. In this body, he would only have one eye. It was a distinguishing factor in his disguise.
He'd left prophecies behind in Desolation. Hundreds of years ago, he'd fought Mestifito and won. The Black dragon had hidden away in his tunnels underground, breeding a new generation of dragons. No matter. It was only food for Donovan, and he couldn't wait to taste their flesh.
Luckily he was patient, so patient. He’d had to wait until the boundaries between the Dragonlands and Desolation were weakened once again. In the meantime he’d spread lies and dissent among the humans who settled in the Dragonlands. They didn't know he was the Keeper they all feared on the Isle of Repose. It was easy to steal a new body here and there and recreate himself whenever he felt like it.
The time had come again.
"Ah, my pet, you're here," Donovan said to the black-haired man cowering in the corner, holding a dead body in his arms. "I'm thrilled you answered my call."
Jarrett held a mage's body in his arms. "As you command, Keeper." He held out the body to Donovan.
"Put it over there," Donovan said, nodding toward the wall. "I don't want our friend Decarian to eat him."
Decarian roared behind them.
"Don't worry," Donovan said to the beast. "I'll only take the skin. You can have everything that is left."
Donovan let go of Fi's wrist. He pushed her toward the stairway, which was now buried in rubble. She sank to the ground, her fists clenched in fury.
"Try to change into your dragon," Donovan said, spittle flying as he laughed at her futile attempts. "It won't happen. I stole it from you, remember?"
"Tressa got hers back," Fi said. "I'll get mine. Then I'll kill all of you."
Donovan laughed. "Tressa has exactly what I gave her. I am controlling all of your movements. Your choices. Your desires. It all comes from me. Tressa is now trapped in dragon form, just as your leader, Mestifito is trapped in his. Once I realized he was meddling in my affairs again, stealing a woman from that blasted village in the fog, I made sure he wouldn't ever change until I commanded. Nor would he remember why. You are all proving to be very vexing to me, but I will not let you win. The Dragonlands are mine. Do you hear me? Mine! Now that the barriers between our worlds are wearing thin, I will take my rightful place in this forsaken land of yours."
Donovan turned his back on the girl. She was no threat to him. None of them were. Once Decarian and his minions dug themselves out of this hole, they would emerge victorious. He wouldn't let a little thing like a demolished castle get in his way.
Donovan used his needle to puncture a hole in the dead mage's skin. Then he used his dagger to slice from the man's throat down to his groin. He made four more precise incisions in the skin. Then he pulled it back from the body, delighting in the squishy noise the organs made as they detached from the skin.
He heard Fi retch behind him. Donovan chuckled. She would have to learn to accept many things. Just as Jarrett had. His pet stood next to the wall, his eyes dull and his mouth slack. Perhaps Donovan had treated Jarrett too harshly. No matter. If the man died, then Fi would simply take his place.
Donovan stripped off his clothes, then sat down on the ground and took to sewing the skin onto himself. The sharp pain of the needle piercing his skin had dulled long ago. Now he barely felt anything as he followed the holes in his body, laying the new skin carefully over the old. This was why he wore gloves, a hooded cape, and boots all the time. No one could see the ravages of his skin, or they'd know immediately he wasn't like them.
He snorted as he thought of all the lies he'd told and how easily all of the silly humans and dragons had believed him. They thought they were brave, smart even. They were neither of those things. They were simply pawns in his game. They would do as he said or they would die. Donovan would delight in watching them get crushed between Decarian's jaws, or run through with the swords of his army.
And that Tressa. He imagined her dead body on top of the Barrier Mountains, frozen, while her little ghost dragons mourned her. They would disappear as soon as she died. Donovan had needed her to set them free, to get them out of his beloved Desolation after that bastard Mestifito had trapped them there eighty years ago in a last-ditch effort to stop Desolation from attacking. Guardians, he'd called them. Donovan wanted to laugh at his brother's stupidity. No one could defeat Donovan and his minions. No one. Donovan had been patient, and in the end he would win.
His eyes perked up. He'd almost forgotten about the minions. "Rise, my army. Scale the walls and join me."
A horrific cacophony of clanking echoed in the small cavern. Decarian's booming laughter joined in as he urged them on. Donovan glanced over the drop-off, pleased to see the first of his undead army rise up. The skeleton's vacant eye sockets surveyed the cavern. It bounded onto the ground. Donovan heard a whimper behind him. The girl again. She would need to toughen up.
More and more skeletons piled into the cave until Jarrett had been pushed next to Fi. The girl tried to get away from him, but she couldn't due to the crowding skeletons.
"Just wait," Fi yelled. "Hildie and her army from Ergoth are coming! They will kill all of you!"
Donovan laughed again. The girl really was dense. "Do you not recognize my army? They are the people from Desolation. All dead. They've always been dead. No one lives there. What you saw in Desolation is only a reflection of what lies in the Dragonlands. You may have interacted with their souls, but that's all. Their bodies have been mine for
centuries, and they have been dying, haha, to break free."
Almost as if to prove his point, the skeletons began digging at the dirt-packed walls. They tossed rocks into the pit they'd emerged from, quickly putting a dent in the collapsed castle above them.
"Here, they are my servants. They do as I bid. Everything here is mine. The Dragonlands will fall when the blood moon rises, and you, my dear Fi, will help me destroy it all!"
RECKONING - The FINAL Volume in the Dragonlands Series
(Dragonlands, Book Five)
Coming April 28th, 2015
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Afterword
Thank you so much for reading DESOLATION. I hope you had a good time reading it.
There are some really great ways to stay in touch with me and learn about upcoming releases. I would love to hear from you!
- Continue the story with the sequel, RECKONING, coming in spring 2015. Add RECKONING to your Goodreads list: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24501356-reckoning
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XoXo,
Megg
Acknowledgments
First, thanks to my army of editors – Lisa Jenn Bigelow, Angela Carlie, Deena Viviani, and Joelle & Tom Sisto.
Thanks to Michael Gauss for the amazing dragon art.
Steven Novak makes the best covers in the world! Thanks, Steven!
Stefanie Verish created the most amazing map for my series. Thank you!!!!
My family can’t go without mention. They put up with my weird work hours and strange outbursts, usually when plot points would magically descend on me during dinner. Most of all, they’re understanding when I need to work. Love them so much!