He had to stop this, but his magic wasn’t a never-ending supply. Using it now would weaken him. Also, he was against his own kind now, and clearly some of them were capable of magic, too.
The playing field had just leveled up.
Chapter 29
Orergon
Oregron’s hair blew back in the wind as he galloped through the narrow streets of Anthoinia. Already, he could tell they were winning. The number of the king’s soldiers he’d seen had thinned out, many having either dropped their swords and run once they’d been faced with the might of Dela’s combined army of Moerians, Norcs, and humans, or else who had fought bravely and lost.
Orergon didn’t like to kill. He’d seen too much death in his life, and experienced the pain it caused, but at times like this there was no choice. He wasn’t going to let Crowmere win.
Where was Dela now? He’d seen his own kinsmen fall, and he couldn’t help but worry for her safety. Had she made it to the castle yet? He took a moment to try to get an idea. From his position, he was able to see the dragon still pinned to the top of the castle by the giant metal chains. Why hadn’t Vehel removed them yet? Surely he must be close enough by now? Worry wound its way through him. Had something gone wrong? Was either Vehel or Dela hurt, or worse?
Suddenly, something whizzed past his head, striking the ground only a foot away.
An arrow?
He’d thought they’d left all the archers back at the city walls, but it seemed there were more. “Get back,” he cried to his men. “Take shelter!”
He backed up against the walls of one of the houses, pressing in tight so the edge of the roof gave him shelter. Who was firing at them, and how was he going to make them stop?
He risked peeking out. And frowned.
Were his eyes deceiving him, or were the people firing at them from the castle turrets Elvish? He was sure he caught a flash of silver hair and pointed ears right before the archer let another arrow fly. And it wasn’t just one of them either. Numerous Elvish were positioned across the top of the castle, firing down at Dela’s army below.
How was this possible? They didn’t get by them in the Southern Pass. Had they used magic to get here?
All around him, Dela’s men were falling. Elvish arrows pierced chests, and arms, and even faces, leaving bodies all around. He couldn’t let this continue. If it did, they were going to lose.
Chapter 30
Dela
She hated to see her men dying. She needed to put a stop to this, but how? Her dragon was still trapped, and they were fighting against Elvish magic now, instead of having it on their side.
“Dela, look!”
She cast her gaze in the direction Vehel pointed. What looked like black smoke drifted across one of the turrets from which the Elvish were firing. As they watched, the first Elvish archer suddenly went rigid and dropped his bow, then tumbled over the side of the tower onto the ground far below. Even from this distance they could see the Elvish male’s skin was now grey.
“Orergon,” she cried. She couldn’t see the Moerian, but she knew he had to be responsible. Her heart swelled with love for him. Even though he hated his dark magic, he was using it to help her. But she couldn’t be distracted by that now. Her focus was on reaching the roof and freeing Torggu. If they weren’t able to use Vehel’s magic to do it, she’d have to free him by hand. She’d tear off the chains herself if she had to.
They continued up the stairwell. Each person they came across, they were forced to fight, though now Iros understood the usefulness of her fire, those fights suddenly became a little easier—some of the men preferring to run than getting scorched.
Her thighs burned as they sprinted up the steps, her breath tight in her lungs. She couldn’t stop to rest, though. People were dying by the minute, and she had to end this one way or the other.
They reached the roof and drew to a halt.
Standing there, behind Torggu and away from the dragon’s head so as to avoid his fire, were King Dawngleam and both of Vehel’s brothers.
Dela froze, sensing Vehel doing the same thing.
“Father,” Vehel snapped. “How could you do this?”
King Dawngleam turned to face his youngest son. “You’re the traitor, boy, and look what you’ve done.”
But Vehel stood his ground. “You betrayed all of Xantearos for your own selfishness. We could have been so much better if it wasn’t for you.”
Dawngleam turned his attention to Dela. “I told you that you should have taken my oldest son. Then all of this ... ugliness could have been avoided.”
Dela looked to Vehten, who wore a sneer across his face. “I’d rather die than be anywhere near him after what he did,” she declared.
“Good,” King Dawngleam replied. “Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
No, this wasn’t over yet.
“Where’s King Crowmere?” she demanded.
“He’s preparing his victory march for when you and all your friends are dead.”
She had to admit, it wasn’t looking good. It was her and Vehel against the three of them, and while she had a dagger, and Vehel had a sword, all three of the other men were armed.
A sudden screech came from the distance. Confusion filled her. Torggu was still on the castle roof, chained down, and yet it had sounded like him.
She looked toward the sound, and she wasn’t the only one, the king and Elvish princes also turning in that direction.
Dela widened her eyes in amazement, hardly daring to believe it. There in the distance flew two adult dragons—one with scales of burned orange, and the other in a brilliant purple.
“Oh!” she cried.
More dragons were coming! She didn’t know if they were there to help her, or Torggu, but she guessed it didn’t matter. It would all amount to the same thing.
She watched with glee as dismay passed across King Dawngleam’s face.
“Vehel,” the middle brother, Vanthum, suddenly shouted, “try to free the dragon now.”
Dela looked between the two Elvish men, trying to figure out what was happening.
“Vanthum, no!” his father roared.
She suddenly understood. The same look of concentration she’d come to recognize on Vehel as being one of his magic was now on his second oldest brother’s face. It seemed some of the remaining family weren’t all bad. Vanthum must have been the one fighting against Vehel’s magic with magic of his own, and now he was helping them.
And sure enough, the chain net holding down Torggu began to move, shivering at first and then slowly lifting from his back.
The dragon gave a screech, and Dela watched with vicious pride as the chains lifted and he was able to get to his feet.
The two new dragons were at the city walls now, the strength of their fire crumbling the remaining wall. That was what Dela had wanted—for Anthoinia and the people within its walls to no longer be trapped—and it seemed the new dragons were helping her with that vision.
King Dawngleam and Vehten exchanged nervous glances. There were more dragons now, and the one that had been captured was pissed and free. In unison, both of the men started for the stairs.
“No, you don’t,” Vehel said, stepping into their path. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Dela moved to join him, brandishing her dagger. She might have the power of the dragons behind her, but there were some things that needed to be done face to face.
The two Elvish men drew their weapons. It didn’t look as though Vanthum was going to take his father’s side any longer, so they were more evenly matched now.
Dela set her sights on Vehten, and her lip curled in a snarl. “You killed my brother.”
He glared at her. “And I’d do it again.”
With a scream of rage, she lunged with her dagger. Vehten’s sword was longer, but the weight made him slower, too. She darted out of the way as he struck downward and brought herself to the side of him. Sweeping her arm around, she plunged the dagger int
o the side of his throat.
Vehten dropped to the ground, his hand clawing at the knife now sticking out of the side of his neck.
“That’s for my brother,” she spat.
She watched the light go out of his eyes then turned to where Vehel was fighting King Dawngleam.
Vehel had battled his father to the edge of the castle roof. He’d done so with brute strength, not even needing to use his magic. His father might have thought of him as the weakling younger son, but he was being forced to rethink his opinions now as Vehel parried with him, pushing him closer and closer to the roof edge.
“No, Vehel! Stop. I’m your father. You love me, remember?”
Vehel glared at him with his ice-blue gaze. “Any love I had for you died a long time ago.”
And with that, he gave the final strike, sending his father toppling backward, his arms pinwheeling for a moment, before plunging from the roof of the castle and down onto the ground below.
Dela staggered to Vehel, and they fell into each other’s arms, both shaking from emotion and exertion. “Where are the others?” Dela managed to say. “By the Gods, I hope they’re all right.”
“And where’s Crowmere?” Vehel said, releasing her. “This isn’t over until he’s dead.”
The city had been taken, and even King Crowmere would have been able to see that. Was he somewhere in the depths of the castle, hiding?
“Look, there!” Vehel declared.
Riding outside of the city gates, his cloak flying back in the wind, was King Crowmere.
Anger roiled inside her. “That coward.”
She wasn’t going to let him get away.
“Go get him, Torggu,” she told the dragon.
Torggu huffed out smoke through his nostrils and stretched out his wings. It had been days since he’d last taken flight, and days since he’d last eaten. He perched on the edge of the castle roof, and then launched himself off, gliding across the top of the city, over the houses, and beyond the city wall where the king was fleeing across the tundra of the eastern coast.
Dela watched with bitter victory as Torggu swept down over the top of the fleeing king. She’d thought he would exhale fire, but instead he opened his mouth and snatched him up whole off the horse’s back. The crunch of bone as he gulped the king down could be heard right across the city.
Dela finally allowed herself to breathe.
They had won, but at what cost?
Chapter 31
Three Months Later
Dela refused to think of this as either a coronation or a wedding.
For some reason, both words made her uncomfortable. And there was absolutely zero chance she was going to be wearing a big dress or a crown.
She did, however, allow her mother, Johanna, to make her a new outfit from brand new leather, and she was even sitting in front of a mirror and allowing her mother to tease her hair into what was an increasingly growing bouffant.
Her mother pressed her fingers to her lips as she regarded her daughter. “You look so beautiful, Dela. I can hardly believe all of this is happening.”
“Neither can I,” she admitted. “I feel like it’s all a dream.”
“Well, you’re definitely awake.”
Yes, she was. She was about to go and stand in the market square and pledge her allegiance to the whole of Xantearos and all of the races, and take Vehel, Orergon, and Warsgra as her official consorts.
The walls of Anthoinia had been flattened, and already the city had started to spread out, giving everyone who’d lived within its claustrophobic streets more room to breathe. Some of the other races had decided to stay, while others returned home, and now it wasn’t an unusual thing to see a Norc or Moerian or Elvish trading in the market square together with the humans. Things hadn’t been completely smooth sailing— of course it hadn’t—and there were fights and disagreements, but overall the atmosphere in the city had grown calmer. Now there was no Passover to need to store grain for, food was plentiful, and the people no longer had their fear of the Choosing hanging over their heads.
Other races had made it through the Southern Pass to farm land on the eastern coast to help feed their people, and Dela was in the process of arranging a regular shipment of grains to be taken via the Elvish fleet over to the western coast. Vehel’s middle brother, Vanthum, together with his mother, were back in the Inverlands, happily still ruling over the Elvish, and Dela was relieved Vehel had managed to keep hold of some of his family.
As well as the walls of Anthoinia coming down, she’d also emptied out the castle vaults and given the diamonds and gold back to the Elvish and Moerians. “It belongs with you,” she’d told them. “It was exchanged for grain, but that was grain you should have been allowed to grow yourselves anyway.”
She was saddened to hear of those they’d lost in the battle, including Seth Elderstein, and had given a memorial for all those lost. The memorial didn’t include King Crowmere, and no one knew what had happened to his wife, the queen. Perhaps she’d run as well, or maybe taken her own life when she’d seen the city falling. There was a chance Dela would never find out.
“It’s time, Dela,” her mother told her. “Everyone is waiting.”
Dela nodded and got to her feet, trying not to notice how both her legs and hands trembled.
Her father, Godfrey, was waiting outside of the castle’s bedroom door, ready to escort her down to the city square. He sucked in a breath when he saw her and leaned in to kiss his daughter’s cheek.
“You look beautiful,” he told her.
Dela’s face heated. “Thanks, Pops.”
She’d stuck to her word and not told her parents the truth about what had happened with Ridley. It had been enough to know that he’d been killed by Vehten three years ago, and now Vehten was dead, too, so they were able to put the past to rest.
The city was waiting for her, and with the people were four dragons—three full-grown, and one almost half their size now. The dragons were a regular sight above the city, and people no longer cowered in fear at the sight of them. As she cast her gaze across the crowds, she spotted a number of familiar faces. There was Nimbus Darkbrair and Cirrus Fleetfoot of the Fae, and even the Duendes Atticus and Alyce had come out of hiding to bear witness to this momentous moment.
But it wasn’t the crowds of people or the dragons that captured Dela’s attention.
No, it was the three men who waited for her, each with identical expressions of adoration and happiness on their faces.
Vehel, her Elvish prince. Warsgra, her warrior Norc. And Orergon, her protective Moerian.
A grin split across her face at the sight of them. They were about to make their union official.
From the side of the platform stepped a young girl of no more than eleven years old. A cloak of animal skins was pulled up to hide her face, but when Dela caught a glimpse of the girl’s eyes, she could see they were solid white and blind.
The Seer had traveled down from the north to conduct the ceremony.
The crowd fell silent as Dela crossed the platform to stand with the men, and the Seer stepped into place to join them.
“Dela Stonebridge,” the Seer called out. “You are the last of the Dragonsayers, and as such you must swear to rule Xantearos with a fair hand.”
“I swear it,” Dela echoed.
“And as last of the Dragonsayers,” the Seer continued, “we hope you will bear us many children to continue your line.”
She shared a secret smile with the three men. That was certainly something they were practicing at.
“I will do my very best.”
“Now,” said the Seer, “let us turn to the second important part of this ceremony. Will you all place your hands on top of one another’s.”
Moving to stand in a circle, Dela placed her hand on top of Warsgra’s, whose hand was the largest, and then Vehel placed his hand on top of hers, and finally Orergon placed his on top of Vehel’s.
“Warsgra, Vehel, and Orergon, I take each o
f you as my husbands. To love and cherish until the end of our days.” She locked eyes with each of them in turn, sharing a smile, and wishing it could be a kiss. There would be plenty of time for kissing and even more later.
“We have something for you to signify our bond,” said Vehel.
He nodded at someone waiting on the sideline, who rushed in with an item on a small cushion.
Dela gasped. “Where did you get that?”
It was a ring containing Dragonstone, almost identical to the one she’d lost down in the catacombs.
“We had it made for you,” Orergon said.
“It seemed only fitting,” Vehel said with a smile.
“Thank you, all of you.”
“Only this one you get to wear on your finger,” Warsgra growled, stepping forward to lift the ring from the cushion. She held out her hand, and he slipped it onto her fourth finger on her left hand. It fit perfectly.
A huge cheer of celebration rose from the watching crowd.
Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you. All of you.”
“It was nothing, considering everything you’ve done for us.”
“We love you, Dela Stonebridge. Dela the Dragonsayer,” said Vehel.
Warsgra nodded. “We worship the ground you walk on.”
“And we always will,” Orergon added.
And with the ring, they sealed their future, and the future of the new world of Xantearos, together.
THE END
Cast of Characters
The Humans
The humans have the highest population of Xantearos, having taken claim to most of the Eastern coast. Their main area of residence is the capital city of Anthoinia, though some humans do live outside of the city walls.
King and Queen Crowmere: rulers of the City of Anthoinia and the Eastern Coast of Xantearos.
Philput Glod: The head of the City Guard.
Into a Dragon's Soul: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Chronicles of the Four Book 3) Page 23