“I need that magic, now!” Fenroot screamed.
“It’s not ready yet, my lord!” the elves cried.
Fenroot looked at the wall of fire again, cursed and dove into the sand, covering himself with a magical barrier at the last moment.
The heatwave moved over him first.
Then the fire.
It ripped through the beach, destroying the runes and setting elves and dragons on fire.
The screams pierced his ears and he closed his eyes. The fire was fierce and relentless. It tore against his barrier, trying to get at him, but he was too strong. He wasn’t going to let this be his end.
He tried to block out the screams and the smell of burning flesh and scales.
The heat disappeared.
Fenroot dissolved his shield and surveyed the scene.
His soldiers were strewn across the beach. Dragons lay dead, their eyes open and their reptilian eyes burning from the magical fire.
Fenroot roared in anger.
Moss landed next to him. “Good god, where did that come from?”
Fenroot grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the sand. “You tell me.”
“This isn’t my fault!”
Fenroot squeezed Moss’s neck harder.
“Fenroot, stop!”
A beeping sound made Fenroot let go.
A white orb was floating in front of him.
It beeped again and a hologram of Dark appeared on the sand. The black dragon was grinning.
“Welcome to Magic Hope City. That’s a fitting introduction for an age-old scoundrel.”
“This is just the beginning,” Fenroot said.
“Oh, indeed. This is war, traitor. A profound war unlike anything you’ve ever seen.”
Dark growled and the hologram disappeared.
The orb exploded, knocking Fenroot back, and he roared angrily.
“If he wants to play difficult, I’ll play as well….”
Fenroot scratched a rune into the air and punched it.
***
Alvia walked ahead of Miri and Tony, taking in the tremendous skyscrapers. She had never seen anything like them in her life.
“I guess you didn’t experience city life as a member of the Order, huh?” Miri asked.
Alvia opened her mouth to respond, but an invisible hand gripped her.
A cold, cruel voice sounded in her head. “Did you think I was done with you, girl?”
Leader.
She froze.
“This was in my plan all along. Your freedom comes with a price. You were always my scout.”
“No!” Alvia screamed. Her mouth didn’t move, but her voice sounded inside her mind.
“You silly girl,” Fenroot said. “Did you really think there was a story about your mother and father roaming around at large? You belong to me.”
“Never. I’ll—”
“You will find the Hall of Governance and report what you see….”
Her body seized up and she couldn’t control it. Only when she thought about the mission would it allow her to move. Only when she wanted to speak about the mission would it let her speak.…
“We’ve got to get to the Hall of Governance,” Alvia demanded, hating every word.
“We’re making progress,” Miri said. “Calm down, Alvia. It’s okay.”
But Alvia charged ahead. “We’re not moving fast enough.”
Inside her head, Fenroot laughed long and hard.
XLVII
“It’s hard to tell, but it appears we took out at least a third of the army,” Dark said.
He loved the opportunity to gloat in front of Fenroot. But he really wanted to see the army and if the offensive worked. It gave him immense satisfaction to see dragons and elves lying dead in the sand.
“It’s too hard to tell,” Norwyn said. “But it appears to have worked, my lord.”
“Worked?” Dark asked, irritated. “We still have two-thirds of that massive army to worry about! They still outnumber us. I would hardly call it a success, Norwyn.”
“It’s a good first step,” Norwyn said. “If I was able to get an accurate count, it’s thousands less soldiers we have to worry about.”
“How long will the wall hold?”
“Several days, if we are lucky. Fenroot will start attacking it as soon as his troops regroup. We can count on that.”
“Should we consider a second blast?” Dark asked.
“His troops will be on alert now,” Norwyn said. “A second blast wouldn’t be as effective.”
It sounded reasonable enough. Dark’s war tactics were still rough. He wished they were still sharp. But this new world engaged in tactics that were unfamiliar and strange to him.
“When the wall falls, the city will be prey, will it not?” Dark asked.
“Unfortunately, yes, my lord.”
“I would like to address the citizens.”
“Not yet. I’m working on them.”
“How, Norwyn?”
Norwyn stood and started to walk out of the Abstraction Chamber. “We have other things to worry about right now.”
XLVIII
Amal handed Edwil a draft of a letter.
The elven man read it, grabbed a pen and made some corrections.
“It’s decent, Mrs. Governor,” Edwil said. “It should be enough to get the message across.”
“Why can’t I address the city personally?”
“It would give away your location,” Edwil said. “We were able to secure this location, but a transmission would reveal us. Your safety is paramount right now.”
Amal glanced around her office, which seemed like a jail cell. She couldn’t quite get used to it, with its stale air, fading brick wall and single, solitary light. “What news do you have for me?”
“Our reports confirm that a protection barrier is now protecting the city.”
“That’s good, right?”
“No, m’am. We have reason to believe that Fenroot may soon launch an attack.”
“Who put up the barrier?”
“Dragons in Abstraction. They’re working with Old Dark.”
Amal walked across the office. She stared at the brick wall that faced her desk. “And I can’t address the people because—”
“If Old Dark finds out there is a new governor trying to influence the city, he will come after you, Mrs. Governor. The best thing we can offer right now is a message of solidarity, and sit back and see what happens.”
“And what if there’s no city left to govern?” Amal asked. “Did you figure that out in your briefings?”
“There are two scenarios. In the first, Fenroot wins and we praise him. We rebuild. It’ll take most of your term to repair the city’s infrastructure, but you’ll sail easily into another term.”
“And what is the second scenario?”
“Old Dark wins. Then we have to figure out how to deal with him.”
Amal gulped. “I don’t like being passive, Edwil. You haven’t been around me very long, but you’ll find that I’m a hands-on person. So is my husband.”
Edwil frowned. “What do you recommend, Mrs. Governor? You can’t use magic. You can’t fight a dragon. Honestly, neither can we.”
Amal stopped under the orb light in her office. “We have to do something.”
“I know how you feel,” Edwil said. “Trust me, I do. But strange as it is, it’s not our fight. If we sit it out, we’ll live to govern another day.”
Edwil handed her the letter back. “Once you sign off on these changes, I’ll have the letter distributed around the city to key locations. Let me help you, Mrs. Governor.”
He left her holding the letter, angry and bitter and wishing she could do more.
***
The following letter went out to densely populated areas around the city. White orbs flew through the streets, projecting it in blue tint on the walls, on the streets, on the windows of cars.…
Dear Citizens,
The challenges we face
are immense.
I did not expect to be sworn in as your governor today. In fact, I did not expect to be sworn into anything in my career ever again.
But disaster has claimed the lives of my opponents, and I must rise to the awesome powers and responsibilities of the Office of the Governor.
Do what you can—no, do what you MUST to protect yourselves and your families. But do not lose sight of what makes our city great.
Let us not devolve into accusations, and let us not commit violence against one another simply because we are afraid.
This is a dark time in our city’s history, and I know that none of us woke up yesterday morning expecting to have to bear this burden.
But together, we will prevail.
Together, we are the future of Magic Hope City.
Ever yours,
Governor Amal F. Shalewood
XLIX
Miri read the governor’s letter on the side of an alley wall, her mouth agape.
A crowd had gathered behind her, reading the letter out loud and gasping just like Miri.
“What does this mean?” Alvia asked. “Who is Amal Shalewood?”
The girl had grown even more impatient in the last few minutes and it had taken Miri by surprise.
Miri put her hand on her chest and stared at the letter. “This is historic.”
“Wow,” Tony said, reading, “So the long shot won after all, huh?”
Whispers spread through the crowd:
“A human is our governor…”
“Amal won.”
“That was a great letter.”
“Where is she?”
“We need good leadership right now.”
Miri turned to Alvia. “Amal Shalewood is now the first human governor of Magic Hope City.”
“Hmm. Fascinating. Terrible timing, though.”
“She’s the one I would have supported in the race,” Miri said, “If I didn’t meet Lucan.”
“My dad was a stolid Ennius supporter,” Tony said. “I was a Lucan supporter…until all of this happened.”
“I am a supporter of ending this,” Alvia said. “Which way to the Hall of Governance?”
Miri pointed down the street.
“We’ll give the human governor a chance to govern,” Alvia said, starting down the street. Pepper followed her.
Miri looked at all the people gathered in the street. A positive vibe was spreading. For the first time since the attack, she sensed what could have been called unity. A familiar face. Someone standing up and speaking to them.
This would be good for the city, good for morale. She could feel it.
She ran after Alvia and Tony. If she could do anything about it, she was going to make sure Amal was successful.
L
Fenroot trained his gaze cityward as the army recovered and fell into formation behind him.
He commanded them to throw the dead bodies into the sea. No ceremonies. No goodbyes.
They were in the middle of war.
“How are we coming?” Fenroot asked the group of elves toiling in the sand.
A harsh wind blew, and the sky was filling with gray storm clouds.
Just the kind of weather he wanted.
“I am certain that this will work,” Moss said, circling the air above him. “And in a rainstorm of all weather events. This will be spectacular, Fenroot.”
“Your estimate of the magical power better be correct,” Fenroot said.
“Trust me,” Moss said. “I’ve tasted the magic on the wall. At least fifty-seven dragons contributed to it. As long as our force contains the power of at least fifty-eight dragons, it should be enough to break the barrier.”
“That’s why I had the elves adjust it to sixty,” Fenroot said.
The elves in the sand waved their hands at Fenroot. “We are ready, my lord!”
Fenroot laughed, then he turned around to address the army. “Soldiers!”
The army cheered at him, pumping their fists. The dragons roared, ready to burst forward.
“The time is now to show me how well you’ve trained. In a few minutes, we will enter a city that fears us. And we will make them fear our every move. You all have had time to memorize the city map. We go straight for the Hall of Governance, and we go straight for the old dragon lord.”
The army cheered again.
“I want his head!”
The army cheered once more.
Fenroot pointed to the elves and roared at the top of his lungs. “Unleash the magic!”
Thunder shook the skies. Lightning struck and the clouds billowed; soon they glowed pink.
A column of pink magic smashed into the sand, creating a powerful earthquake.
The runes in the sand activated, glowing pink, purple and white, and the immense magical power surged throughout the entire beach. Fenroot laughed as he felt it underneath his claws. He looked up at the clouds, and the endless stream of magic was pouring from the skies into the ground. The aquifer shares of hundreds of dragons who believed in his cause. The shares of hundreds of dragons who wanted to see Old Dark dead.
“Direct the beams!” Fenroot cried.
The elves dropped to their knees. The rest of the army did the same. The pink energy flowed through them, and they screamed in the throes of its awesome power. Soon the whole beach was full of screaming and the whooshing of magic and thunderclaps.
Fenroot himself dropped into the sand and braced himself as raw energy poured through him. He shook, giving himself over to the power.
Then he opened his mouth to roar and a beam of pink energy shot out. It smashed into the wall.
The elves held out their hands, and the dragons opened their mouths. Thousands of rays struck the wall.
The shattering was swift.
The pink wall turned into slime, splattering across the sand.
The city lay unprotected.
Fenroot was still shaking. He could have let the power course through him forever. But instead, he flapped into the air, his body glowing pink, and he screamed “Soldiers, onward!”
And the army advanced, pouring into the streets of Magic Hope City.
Intermezzo
This too was a moment between two ages, a gasp in history when the world didn’t know what to do next.
When the dragon lord, Old Dark, fell at the hands of Fenroot, dragons around the world fought each other to seize power. Now one thousand years later, they were fighting again, a harken back to the tribal times when blood ran in the streets and seemingly eternal fires filled the skies.
This was the end of the Dawn Age. Would the world quickly forget the thousand years of prosperity before it?
Magic Hope City, the “rose petal of the western continent” was at stake, a population of millions fighting for their lives, at the mercy of two dragons warring over a thousand-year betrayal.
What a strange turn for a world that began as an egg—and the burnt out husk of a dead dragon god who went crazy because of the ticking of time…
This, indeed, was a strange beginning to a new age for a culture who thrived on stories. What new legends would emerge from this evil time? What new legacies would take root and grow into the flowers of the future?
It is too soon to tell.
Or perhaps there a hidden prophecy that is already unveiling itself, waiting for that one, glorious moment when it will become true history…
ACT V
LI
Dark threw over a clay statue as he watched Fenroot’s army advance.
“Norwyn!” he screamed. “You assured me that we would have several days’ protection. The damn wall only lasted for a few hours!”
Dark kicked the shards of the statue against the wall and roared. “Damn!”
Norwyn, who was engaging in multi-consciousness, opened his eyes and said “I couldn’t have known about their secret, my lord.”
“It’s your job to anticipate their secret!” Dark screamed. “What, do you think I know the ways and customs of the futur
e? Should I have been able to guess?”
“Calm down, my lord. We’ll get through this.”
Dark pointed to the screens. “The army, that’s—it’s….”
His breathing quickened and his vision narrowed.
No, not now, stupid dragon!
He stumbled out of the Abstraction Chamber.
Norwyn unplugged himself from the Abstraction Machine. “My lord!”
Dark groped air as he passed down a long, vaulted hallway with decorative tile floors with tiles bearing dragon crests at measured intervals. A single skylight shone on the hallway.
He whispered to himself, “It’s over...it’s over.…”
He reached upward, for the skylight, but it was far above him. He sank on his hind legs, gasping for air.
Two claws grabbed him, but he still fell backwards, collapsing down a set of stairs. His head hit the wall and the next thing he knew he was swiping the air with his claws. Fenroot’s face hovered over him.
“Stay away!” Dark cried. “I’ll end you, scoundrel!”
“Stop,” Fenroot said.
“I’ll not listen to you!”
“Stop!” Fenroot cried. And then his face and voice morphed into Norwyn. The white dragon was standing over him with a frown. “It’s passing, my lord.”
His breathing slowed, and he stood, realizing that this very well might be the end. This wasn’t how a dragon lord was supposed to die. Forgetting his episode, he spread his claws across the tile and curled them.
He would die like a wild animal—backed into a corner, his claws out, fire raging. Heroic.
A strange calmness washed over him as he realized he had nothing to lose.
“Norwyn, tell me you have another plan.” He pushed Norwyn off and started up the stairs. “I don’t want to die a martyr. That wasn’t in my destiny!”
Norwyn shook his head. “I have no more plans, my lord. We must stay, and we must fight.”
Dark whipped around. “And how?”
“We must trust the city now,” Norwyn said.
“If you’d have let me address them like I asked, we might have—”
Old Wicked (The Last Dragon Lord Book 3) Page 17