“I’ve come to tell you that Old Dark is alive. If it’s war you want, you’ve got one, but it won’t be with me.”
The dragons whispered among themselves. A pair of bright yellow eyes stepped forward. “You lie.”
“He is on the western continent. He has awakened. And you are going to help me end him.”
“Why should we help a dragon lord who abandoned the title?”
Fenroot puffed. “Because if I remember correctly, you supported me. If you aren’t with him, you’ll surely be marked for death.”
“But how can we be sure it is him?”
“I’m as sure as I’ll ever be,” Fenroot said. “Do I need to remind you what he is capable of?”
The dragons hissed.
“We are not stupid, Fenroot,” the leader said.
“My informants tell me very little these days. That’s the price to pay when you live in seclusion. But what was it they did tell me...ah, I remember now....isn’t it true that one of your very own is living in Abstraction? As an arbiter of justice?”
The leader stepped into the light. He was a white dragon with a long white tail. His yellow eyes glowed in the snow. “Norwyn is no longer one of us. He is a traitor. We chased him off this mountain.”
The other dragons joined him from the shadows. They were all sleek and white with bright eyes.
“Norwyn was loyal to the Dark regime,” Fenroot said. “What do you think is going to happen if he and Dark reunite? Do you think Dark is going to ignore your change in loyalty? Friends, if you think Norwyn is a traitor, now—”
“What do you want from us?” the leader asked. “You already have an army.”
Fenroot smiled. “My friends, I need you to lend me your shares of the aquifer.”
VI
Dark did his best to keep up his flight behind Frog and Norwyn. Norwyn, in orb form, led the way, zipping through the swampy sky as the bogs passed below them.
Frog looked back with a grin across his warty face. “Your wings holdin’ up?”
“I’m still flying, aren’t I?” Dark snapped.
The truth was that his wings were beginning to tire. However, they were stronger than before. He found it amazing how long it took even the most basic body function to regain its muscle strength. No—as long as the journey wasn’t too much longer, his wings would be fine. It was his head that ached, his only eye that pulsed in its socket, his claws that were raw in the whistling wind, for he preferred to be on resting ground right now. But something told him he would be spending much of his time on the move, and so he tried to stay as fully engaged as he could even though he wanted crawl back into his crypt and sleep until the moon rose.
“How much longer, Norwyn?” Dark asked. He couldn’t hide the pain in his voice.
“We’re nearly there,” the white dragon said. The orb beeped and pointed a beacon down at the ground, which seemed so impossibly far away. In the middle of the swamp was a swath of clear wetlands surrounded by a river.
It looked familiar.
Dark scanned the area, trying to reorient himself. He licked the calm, humid air and remembered the taste.
How could he forget it?
Hadn’t he approached this same wetland from the opposite direction many times?
This was none other than his home. Where his palace should have been. Burning fires and dragonsong should have greeted him.
But there were no fires.
There was no dragonsong. Only the hoarse, bitter wind. Dark swallowed, wanting water as he, Norwyn and Frog descended.
“Where is the palace?” Dark asked.
“Destroyed a thousand years ago,” Frog said. “Just a couple of nights after you went to sleep. I’m sorry.”
Dark shook. He didn’t know if it was from fear or rage, or both. But he flew next to Frog and slashed him on the ear. “Sorry, my lord!!”
Specks of blood fell from the sky and Frog gripped his ear. “When’ll you stop the violence?”
“I’ll not speak to you until you call me by my true title,” Dark said, flying forward. He caught up to Norwyn, whose white orb was vibrating from the rapid descent.
Dark chose not to look back. To do so might have shown Frog that he felt remorse over the slash, that there was the slightest chance he was sorry.
But he wasn’t sorry. The time for lenience was over.
Dark heard Frog grumble. The big dragon flapped his wings, flying in rank behind him.
Dark suppressed a smirk. I’ll break you in yet.
The ground approached, and Dark prepared for landing. As they flew down to meet the brown, swampy wasteland, Dark made out several structures. One appeared to be a stone shrine, much like the kind that were erected to worship him during his reign. He also saw a large statue of a dragon in the old style; stone, chiseled, and regal.
Was this a shrine erected in his honor? He certainly hoped so; such a monument would give him strength.
They touched down on wet soil that was a welcome sensation under Dark’s claws. They stepped onto an elaborate paved granite pathway that wound through the swamp toward the shrine.
“Where is this place?” Dark asked.
“The Temple of Unity,” Norwyn said. “A shrine erected to honor the peace between the three races.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Dark said.
He couldn’t believe he was back in the bogs. He wanted to slurp the water to verify that he was truly home. A thousand years later, very little had changed.
“Good to be home, eh?” Frog asked.
Dark ignored him. “Norwyn, how is that Magic Hope City can exist and the bog can also co-exist as if it never changed?”
“The elven and human populations gathered into cities,” Norwyn said. “The populations grew over time, and for the most part, they left the natural world alone, except for when they needed to expand their cities.”
The white orb beeped and displayed a hologram of Norwyn again. He appeared to be walking on the granite path, even though he was just a hologram.
“So what you’re telling me is that my efforts to contain them failed,” Dark said, frowning.
“That’s the optimistic view,” Norwyn said. “Relatively speaking.”
The temple came into view. Its peaked gable gave it an austere look, the kind that frightened humans and elves away. The building was bigger than it looked from the air. A colonnade led up to the entrance, and its doors were large enough for a dragon to fit through.
In the distance, Dark saw the dragon statue, and it stopped him.
It was Fenroot.
The silver dragon had his wings outstretched and stood with a posture that indicated that he was the protector of this place.
Dark roared.
“Stop,” Norwyn said.
“Stop? I’ll stop when that abomination is reduced to rubble!”
Dark squeezed between two marble columns and pulled himself into a run, splashing through the mud. He roared again, leaping into the air with his claws ready to slash.
A gentle electric vibration surrounded him, paralyzing every muscle in his body. He was an inch away from the statue, but he couldn’t move.
“A little calm, my lord,” Norwyn said. “This will not do us any good.”
“Let me go,” Dark said.
Norwyn’s holographic image appeared in front of Dark. The white dragon squinted his cobalt eyes at him. “How badly do you want to die?”
“That preposterous question again!”
Norwyn flung Dark into the grass and he rolled several times in the mud before coming to a stop on the granite path, hitting his head against the stone.
“Gah!”
Norwyn flashed in front of him again. “I need you to restrain yourself. When you understand why, you’ll forgive me.”
The electric energy was gone and Dark could move again. “You forget that I was asleep for a thousand years, Norwyn! You deprive me of the most natural instinct.”
“And you forget that I have been
awake this entire time,” Norwyn said. “You’re making it very hard for me to help you.”
Dark growled.
Norwyn continued down the path and Dark followed.
They reached the enormous shrine, and Dark saw it up close. Smooth, polished stone. The numerals 1020 were chiseled into the frieze, and around it were elaborate sculptures of dragons—Keepers and Crafters, all flying, attacking, and raging against the stone.
Dark didn’t recognize any of them.
“Why is there a shrine that does not pay homage to me?”
He snuck a sidelong glance at Fenroot’s statue. “Don’t tell me this is a shrine to the age-old scoundrel.”
“It’s to Fenroot,” Frog said.
Dark spun around angrily.
Frog’s face was blank. “Go ahead and slash me again for telling the truth.”
Dark bared his teeth, but then he concentrated on the temple. “What next?”
“We’re not going in,” Norwyn said. “There’s not much to see inside that won’t anger you.”
“Why don’t you two wait here while I level the place, then?”
Norwyn pointed at the roof. “This is why we’re here.”
While they had been conversing, a blue Keeper dragon had crawled to the top of the roof, and he was watching them. He had a diagonal scar across his face. He stuck to the wall of the temple like a lizard, and his orange, smoky eyes reminded Dark of a dying fire. He opened his mouth, revealing rows of crooked yellow teeth.
“I don’t often get dragon visitors,” Scar said, scaling down the side of the temple.
“Quiet,” Norwyn whispered to Dark.
“What have you come for, white dragon?” Scar asked. “Is this temple not a reminder of your weakness?”
Norwyn brushed off the insult. Dark wanted to sink his claws into the Keeper dragon’s throat.
“You have watched over this temple,” Norwyn said.
“For a thousand years!”
“And while you were doing that, I was doing real work,” Norwyn said. “If it weren’t for me, the governor would have pulled the funding on this place last year.”
Scar’s harsh, arrogant look faded. “What do you want?”
“I need to use the aquifer.”
“Out of all the aquifer points in the city, you come to mine?”
Norwyn didn’t answer. Instead, the scales around his nose crunched together and his eyes narrowed.
Scar nodded in assent and then he noticed Dark and Frog. “Who are your ragtag visitors, white dragon?”
“Ragtag!” Dark cried.
Scar tilted his head at Dark. “And haggard, you are.”
Did he not recognize Dark? Was he so different-looking that not even a Keeper dragon could recognize him? He did have an eyepatch, his scales were worn, and he had aged considerably. And it had been one thousand years. But still. He didn’t know if he should angry or grateful.
Dark certainly recognized Scar. He lived in the bog, and his family was a band of ornery Keepers who gave Dark’s parents just the minimum amount of respect. Why, this blue dragon was barely a hatchling last time Dark saw him!
The disrespect made Dark angry. He gathered magic in his claw, but Frog stepped in front of him.
“Mind yer own business, Scar.”
Scar laughed. “I didn’t recognize you, Frog. You aren’t puny anymore!”
“Neither are you. And it’s nice to see ya aren’t eatin’ mud anymore.”
Scar snarled.
“Take us to your entrance,” Norwyn said.
Scar flapped his wings. They were porous and the sunlight filtered through them. He lifted off, flying low to the ground. Norwyn, Dark and Frog followed him away from the temple and into the thick swamp where trees sprung up around them. The granite path fell away and soon they were wading through several feet of mud. Flies and mosquitos lingered around their faces like buzzing clouds.
After a long distance, and when the temple was no longer in sight, Scar flicked his tail back and forth and the tip glowed.
The swamp ahead of them dissipated into a large cave. It was an optical illusion.
The mouth of the cave was black and covered with vines. It had the unmistakable smell of a dragon—smoke, moss, and an eternal incense offering that stung the air with choking bitterness.
“Here you are,” Scar said, licking his tail. The spell had rubbed the scales on the tip raw.
“We won’t be long,” Norwyn said.
“You tell the Governor that the grounds need work!” Scar said. “I can’t replace the columns on my own. Fenroot’s statue needs polishing. And the commemorative plaques are worn. Last time you were here you told me to have patience. It’s wearing out.”
“I’ll mention it to him,” Norwyn said.
Scar gestured to the cave. “Take all the time you need. I have offerings to accept.” He took a final glance at Dark and Frog and said, “Mind your visitors.” Then he flew away and Dark stared after him with disdain.
“Norwyn, what a disgrace he has become!”
“His family swore loyalty to Fenroot,” Norwyn said.
“Why do you insist on telling me these terrible facts after I am no longer in a position to do anything?”
“Because you would have mauled him, and that would have defeated the purpose of coming here. Follow me.”
The white orb shone a flashlight into the black cavern. A fat spider crawled out of the way as they entered, the sound of their footsteps echoing on the rocky floor.
Dark felt his breath in front of him. The cavern was shadowed but warm. Bits of incense, which were burning at intervals in the darkness, drifted into his nose.
He too had burned incense offerings to protect his caverns. The incense was magicked with a coughing spell that would choke elves and humans to death if they tried to enter. It was surprisingly effective.
He breathed in a cloud of smoke and as it entered his lungs, it mixed with the smoke in his fire sac and gave him energy.
Soon they heard roaring water in the distance. Like a mighty river whose rapids were overflowing its banks.
The sound comforted him.
“Ah, the fountain of our race’s youth is near!” Dark cried. He stole a glance at Frog, whose orange eyes glowed in the incensed shadow. “Do you hear it?”
“I do.”
“And it still doesn’t inspire you to respect me,” Dark said, shaking his head. “A pity for you, my boy.”
Frog said nothing.
“You’re such a brute,” Dark said, holding his head up high.
They passed through a mouth of stalactites.
Below them, a massive pink river flowed past. The pink liquid bubbled and popped, oozing like plasma and casting an ethereal glow against the ceiling that reminded Dark of nebulas on a clear night.
It ran for miles, and there were craggy islands floating in the river here and there, bobbing up and down.
The aquifer.
“I thought I would never see it again,” Dark said, running a claw against his heart.
He stopped at the edge of the rock, took off his eyepatch and dipped it in the magic. He had to reach down further than he remembered, but when he brought the eyepatch up, it was covered in tingling magic that soothed his scales when he put it back on.
“If only I could replace my eye,” Dark said.
“You can do anything, for a price,” Norwyn said. “That hasn’t changed.”
A glint caught Dark’s eye.
An aluminum wrapper floated on the surface of the water.
Dark scooped it out and scrutinized it.
“The aquifer is polluted,” Norwyn said.
“What?”
“There are significant amounts of trash in it.”
“Did this Keeper not do his job?”
“Elves are pumping aquifer magic at an alarming rate,” Norwyn said. “It’s why you saw so much magic in Magic Hope City.”
Norwyn stood at the edge of the rock. The white orb di
splayed a holographic ruler against the river’s edge. Two lines blinked red; one was significantly higher, almost reaching the top of the rock. The other was lower, and right on the surface of the water. There was at least three feet between the two lines.
“The aquifer is shrinking,” Norwyn said. “This particular venue has lost three feet in one thousand years. There are other spots around the world where the magic doesn’t flow at all.”
“But how?” Dark asked. “How could dragons let this happen?”
“Are you angry?” Norwyn asked.
Dark hated the white dragon’s cold and clinical tone.
“What do you think, Norwyn? How do you think I feel? I am curious to see if you are correct.”
“I think it’s worth dying for,” Norwyn said. “And many of us have.”
“I spent my life protecting this place!” Dark yelled. “Do you think I would have allowed such a decrease? No, Norwyn! What gives you the audacity to think that you can even ask me the question?”
“I asked you what you were going to do after you settled your score. I can think of no better cause. A cause you’ve forgotten in your rage. And that work must begin now.”
Another piece of trash flowed past them—a husk of plastic that looked like a tremendous snakeskin rolling on the water.
“Elves can’t be persuaded that they’re doing wrong,” Norwyn said. “They believe that magic should be accessible to all.”
“Can’t they see this?” Dark asked, pointing to the husk as it bobbed along.
“Those who understand have no power and those who do are powerless.”
“And dragons?”
“We’ve done our part.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You needed to see this,” Norwyn said. “Your mindset is still in the past, but the future’s problems are bigger than you can see. This is the perspective. This is the reality, my lord. Whether Fenroot lives or dies, the aquifer will diminish. And when it is gone, life as we know it will end.”
Dark stumbled backward.
“How soon?”
Norwyn shook his head. “No one can guess the timeline.”
“What can we do?” Dark asked.
“There are elves and dragons who advocate using magic responsibly. The gubernatorial election hinges on this one issue.”
Old Wicked (The Last Dragon Lord Book 3) Page 3