“Never mind that,” Mysterian said harshly as the sound of trumpets could be heard coming from the main hall, where the feasters were gathered. “Squire Roland, give them their gifts. After they accept them we must go give hope to the masses.”
“Wait, witch,” Jenka started, but the heft of the long bundle Squire Roland handed him made him hold his tongue. The familiar and welcome feel of dragon magic was radiating from what he held. Without further hesitation, he stripped the leather sock cover from the heavy object and realized that it was a sword. Set into the sword's hilt was the tear that Jade’s mamra had cried. It had returned to him, just as she told him it would. When he placed his hand on the hilt the rush of the emerald dragon's tear flowed into him again, and from across the ethereal he heard Jade hiss a pleasurable, “Yesss,” as the young green dragon felt the power, too.
It was all Jenka could do to contain himself as Dour filled him to brimming, and it became clear to him what he and Jade would soon have to do. They would go after the blood caps that might save Prince Richard.
Rikky marveled at the well-crafted longbow in the sleeve he was handed. He seemed to have little concern with all of the talk of magic and antidotes. He had always been a hunter at heart, and the bow was as fine as any he had ever seen. The arrows were from Herald and were the specially-fletched shafts that Master Kember had used to give the boys when they accomplished one feat or another.
Zah received a staff that had emblems similar to the ones tattooed on her and Linux' head carved into it. She seemed to be feeling some sort of sensation similar to the feeling the tear caused in Jenka. Jenka saw how the hooded man studied her reaction from the depths of his hood. He wondered if the man was Vax Noffa, the great Outland wizard who supposedly decided the fates of men from the shadows with Linux and Mysterian.
“The people await their heroes.” Mysterian urged them all away from the table.
Squire Roland stayed behind to tend to Herald, who was already questioning him about what he had slept through. The robed man said something to Mysterian and Linux in the ethereal, but none of the others could make out what it was. Then he disappeared altogether.
Mysterian ushered them all out of the hall, down a long corridor into the overcrowded great hall. There they were received with chants and cheers from the thousands of people crowded in to see them. After that they were introduced.
“I give you King Blanchard, Queen Alvazina, and the Royal Dragoneers,” an announcer called out over the din. “Three cheers for the Royal Dragoneers!” he added. The cheers that followed were deafening and, although the celebration was tainted with the sorrow of loss that afflicted them all, it still was a celebration for the ages.
Keep reading for special bonus content:
Cold Hearted Son of a Witch
Chapter One
Jade was winging with all the strength he could summon and Jenka De Swasso was urging him on. They were a half day’s ride by horse outside the wall. They had been chasing stray goblins and trolls away from the road that led from Midwal to Three Forks all day, with Rikky and Silva. For some reason, Rikky and Silva were on the ground, and now Rikky was in trouble. An orc had hold of Silva’s tail, and three trolls were hurling rocks and tree-limbs, trying to pummel Rikky from his seat. Jenka didn’t know what he and Jade were going to do when they entered the fray, but if they didn’t do something, by the looks of it, Rikky was done.
“Yusss,” Jade huffed eagerly as he brought them down into a sharp stall over the small clearing full of trolls.
“The orc, Jenka,” Rikky yelled from Silva’s shoulders. A log came hurling up, end over end, and cracked him across the back. Silva snaked her long neck out and caught the troll’s arm. There was an audible “Chomp!” A terrible scream erupted from the troll as the limb was ripped from its body.
Jenka sent Jade a mental command and the young green dragon whipped his tail out. The hard tip snapped with a powerful crack right across the orc’s neck. It let go of Silva, but when the wyrm instinctively leapt away, Rikky’s unconscious form tumbled from between her spinal plates and thumped awkwardly into the undergrowth.
Jenka saw the area where he went down, but couldn’t see him. He urged Jade to land right on top of where he thought Rikky was. As soon as his dragon’s claws were on the ground, Jenka was sliding off of his mount. He drew the sword Mysterian had given him. The hum of the power contained in the dragon’s tear mounted in its hilt filled Jenka, sharpening his senses. He found Rikky in a crouch trying to string his bow and was amazed that he hadn’t died from the impact of the log. A moment later he realized that Rikky was in a daze. The younger Dragoneer wasn’t able to manage the weapon in his hands, and he was having trouble sitting up due to his missing leg.
“Rhaahhgg!”
Jenka looked up to see a troll holding a chunk of tree high over its head. The limb was big enough to crush him and Rikky both. Without much thought, Jenka thrust his sword at the thing. There was no resistance when the blade punctured the beast’s guts and withdrew, but there was a sharp discharge of Dour magic. The troll died instantly. It started to fall toward them, but the raging orc came shouldering past, knocking it to the side. The orc caught Jenka, pummeling him with a bone-crunching fist to the side of the head.
Not far away, Silva was fighting the remaining two trolls. She wasn’t a large dragon, but she was fast. The trellkin had wisely gotten on each side of her and were trying to use position to their advantage. One of them darted in, but she ignored him. Instead, the pewter-colored wyrm spun on the other troll and bathed it in a swath of molten liquid spray. The troll writhed as it crumbled into the brush, its bristly skin stiffening and burning as it went.
Jenka looked up to see the bottom of a claw-toed foot coming down at his face. Above the foot was the snarling visage of the gruesome orc. The flash of memory that passed before his eyes made him think this was the end, but then Jade’s thin attempt at a ferocious roar filled his ears.
As the orc’s huge foot crunched his nose, Jenka felt the creature’s weight come off of his head. He rolled up to see that Rikky finally had his bow strung and Jade was floundering at the edge of the trees. Jade’s claws were latched onto the orc’s shoulders. Jenka would have laughed, but his dragon looked injured. Jade had snatched the orc from the ground like a hawk grabbing a mouse. Only Jade wasn’t strong enough to carry such a load.
Rikky loosed an arrow at the orc. The creature was struggling to break free of Jade’s determined claws and somehow managed to deflect the missile.
“Arghh,” Rikky growled as he pulled another shaft. With a determined snarl on his face, he rolled across the ground sideways until he was at the orc’s side. He loosed the next arrow into its ribs. Then he loosed another that hit it in the neck. The foul-smelling beast continued to struggle, but not for long.
Slowly the orc’s strength faded and eventually Jade let go of its shoulders. Jade was wounded, but not terribly so. Silva and the remaining troll were nowhere to be seen.
“Why’d you land?” Jenka asked as he inspected the small rips in his dragon’s wing skin. “This will be sore for a while Jade, especially after we fly back to Mainsted.”
“Ssores nows,” Jade hissed.
“I had to piss,” Rikky shrugged. “Prop me against a tree, Jenk. I still gotta go.”
Just then Silva came back, flapping down among them. The smears of dark blood at the edges of her maw left no reason to question where the other troll had ended up.
Rikky let Jenka pull him up to a standing position, then hung from his neck and hopped over to the edge of the tree line. “I can’t just jump down and take a piss like you can,” Rikky told him. “It’s nearly impossible for me to climb back on Silva out here.”
In Mainsted, Port, and Outwal, Rikky had wheeled chairs waiting, and long ramps to help him get mounted. King Blanchard himself had ordered them to be built.
Jenka looked away while Rikky relieved himself, but continued the conversation. “What are you going to
do if you have to go while you’re flying over the sea with Zah?”
“What’s she gonna do if she has to go?” Rikky chuckled, but Jenka heard little mirth in the laugh. Rikky and Zahrellion were about to take a long flight over the sea to a little-known island where they could find the mushrooms Mysterian needed to save Prince Richard from Gravelbone’s poison. Jenka wanted to lead the quest, but Jade was too young and small to carry him that far over water, and now the young green wyrm was wing-wounded. Jenka wasn’t sure Jade would be able to carry him back to Mainsted, where the Dragoneers were all soon expected.
“It’s something to think about,” Jenka observed as he waited for his friend to finish his business. “You’ll not be landing anywhere for three or four days.”
“Three days flight to the encampment out on Fisherman’s Island, then two more to the Island that Mysterian swears is there.”
“If she says it’s there, it is,” Jenka said.
“Then why isn’t it on any of the kingdom maps?”
After lacing his pants Rikky hopped back up to Jenka’s side. Jenka helped him over to where Silva was inspecting Jade’s wounded wings.
“If it were, then it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?” Jenka joked. He was pleased to see that Silva had used her natural Dour to somewhat heal Jade’s injuries. He helped Rikky climb back onto Silva’s shoulders, and then mounted his own wyrm.
“Herald’s going to skin us,” Rikky said as he urged Silva to leap into the sky.
Jade took two bounding steps before lifting off after them. If we keep King Blanchard and Linux waiting, we won’t have to worry about Herald’s knife, Jenka said into the ethereal.
I wonder if Zah will be there, Rikky mused.
Jenka almost replied, I hope so, but caught himself. He’d promised Zah that he would keep their moonlit walks a private matter, but nevertheless he hoped she was back from Kingston.
As they passed low over the Midwal gate reconstruction, a few of the men cheered and waved. The two Dragoneers waved back, but kept a steady pace south toward Mainsted. When they passed over Midwal City, the towers sounded the alarm bells, but only until they saw the color of the wyrms and knew they weren’t a pair of attacking mudged.
When the city was behind them, Jenka spoke to Rikky through the ethereal again. You should go on ahead and get ready. That way, only one of us gets in trouble.
Nah, nah, Rikky responded. I’ll stay with you. It’s my fault Jade’s wing was torn. Besides, I’ll not let you take the blame, not when we’re late because you turned back to save my skin.
Master Kember would have been proud, Jenka said, knowing it to be true.
Further conversation ended when they both saw the glittery white scales of Zahrellion’s wyrm, Crystal, soaring toward them. Crystal was quite a bit larger than Silva and Jade, but some day Jade would be double the frost dragon’s size. Silva, on the other hand, was as big as she would ever be.
Jenka’s heart lifted at the sight. Ever since he’d learned that Zah wasn’t an Elvish crone, he’d been falling for her. It was only a mild letdown when they found she wasn’t riding her dragon. Most likely she was getting ready for the private gathering they’d been ordered to attend. King Blanchard, still trapped in Linux’s body after the druid soul-stepped into his, had given the command. Herald and Mysterian were attending, too.
Jenka already knew what was going to be said. The exclusive gathering was to finalize the plans for Zahrellion and Rikky’s quest. It would be dull and tedious. Jenka knew he would spend the whole time wishing he were going so that he could save the Crown Prince from the terrible affliction that had him at death’s door. Not to mention that if he were going instead of Rikky, he would have a lot more time alone with Zahrellion.
Ssshe huntsss, Jade’s voice broke into Jenka’s thoughts. It took him a moment to realize his dragon was referring to Crystal.
You can go hunt with her after you let me off in Mainsted, Jenka replied. He suddenly understood that he was going to be the only Dragoneer around while they were gone.
Nos, Jenkas, I will rest my wings and hunts later thiss night, Jade responded, but Jenka was only half listening. He was thinking about how to get Zahrellion alone after the gathering, and what he would tell her. He wanted to tell her a lot of things, but he never seemed to muster the words when the time was right. That, or the time was never right when the words were filling his mouth. Either way, he knew that she and Rikky would be leaving soon. He didn’t want her to go without knowing how he felt about her.
“The King’s Ranger caravan!” Rikky called out over the rushing wind. When Jenka’s eyes found him, Rikky was pointing ahead to the not-so-distant brown smudge hovering over the ground that marked Mainsted. Another cloud could be seen in the near distance. A sizable train of a dozen wagons and a score of horses was moving north across the dusty road.
Rikky slapped at the stump of his missing leg, indicating that it would slow him down once he was on the ground, then he urged Silva to speed ahead. Silva was fast. Soon all Jenka could see was a crow-sized speck in the sky.
Jenka tried to clear his mind of Zah and her leaving, but couldn’t manage it. For a long time he envisioned the two of them making a home in the foothills, far away from all the madness of the kingdom. Then he thought of Prince Richard lying cocooned in the stasis that was keeping him from death. He let out a sigh of frustrated resignation. Prince Richard had saved Mainsted, and Jenka had long sworn to save the prince in return. As Jade brought them down over the city, Jenka found that he wanted to go on the quest with Zahrellion and Rikky, now more than ever.
Chapter Two
“I don’t give a pixie’s pecker-head,” growled Herald. Normally disheveled, and covered in road grime, the old King’s Ranger had just come from the bath house and looked as spiffy as Jenka had ever seen him. “You’re going north to help what’s left of the King’s Rangers reestablish Crag and the keep. That girl can handle her own. And she’ll have Rikky to help her.”
It was clear to Jenka that Herald wasn’t willing to listen. It was a futile argument anyway. The two of them were the only ones on time for the gathering and they were standing before the lightly glowing cocoon of magic that contained Prince Richard.
The Crown Prince lay peacefully, as if asleep, inside the currently green-colored magical field. He was afflicted with the Goblin King’s poison, a terrible stuff that had maddened and then slowly corroded from the inside out anyone who’d breathed it. If the stasis failed before an antidote was concocted, he would surely die. Jenka knew Herald was right about what had to be done, but that didn’t relieve the urge Jenka was feeling to just ignore common sense and keep his word by saving his fellow Dragoneer.
The Dragoneers’ Lair, as the hall was now called, was an intensely morbid place. Queen Alvazina was often found there arguing with her husband or weeping over her son’s body. Like Mysterian, she was a witch of the Hazeltine, and she fully understood the magnitude of the situation. She knew Richard’s life hung in the balance, and that there was no certainty about the antidotal potion Mysterian hoped to brew. Her sorrow seemed to sap the hope out of some of the others, thus the hall was sometimes the quietest place in Mainsted.
Unlike everyone else, Jenka found inspiration in the Dragoneers’ Lair. The hum of the magical field that was sustaining his peer was the same sort of power that filled him when he concentrated on his dragon tear or held his sword. To Jenka, the mere presence of Dour was hope incarnate. Without it, Richard would be dead. So would most of the people in the city. When the lair was empty, Jenka often meditated in the hall, working the calling spell Zahrellion had taught him, and practicing the Dourcraft he was learning from both Linux and Mysterian. Rikky didn’t seem to find the place objectionable, and sometimes joined him. Rikky read texts about anatomy there, but spent most of his time studying with the healers when the dragons were resting.
Herald was wearing his official King’s Ranger uniform, a new one to replace the filthy set with the hole
in the rear. This outfit was too big for him. Jenka was wearing the armor vest emblazoned with the Dragoneer emblem that had been gifted to all of them by the Crown, and his favorite calfskin britches. Standing there, trying to remain calm, he was a confused well of conflicting emotion. The only thought that lessened his frustration was what Mysterian put into his head when she greeted him at the landing in the dragon bailey earlier.
“What if Zahrellion and Rikky fail?” the old gray-haired Hazeltine witch asked with a clever gleam in her eyes. “You swore to see it through, De Swasso. If they fetch my caps, then your word will stay true. Besides that, there are concerns beyond Prince Richard, as you know. The Confliction is drawing nearer. All of the Hazeltine can sense it. It’s like a pesky insect buzzing around inside my skull.
“Never mind that now, though. If Rikky and Zahrellion fail in their quest, then you and Jade will have to make an attempt. By staying behind, you are strengthening the commitment of your promise.”
Jenka decided that maybe she’d spelled him, because her words almost made sense. She and Herald were of a mind—and a bed—as of late, and with Mysterian’s hold over King Blanchard and Linux, Jenka didn’t stand a chance of changing any of their minds.
The King’s Rangers needed Jade’s might, that was certain, and Lemmy was still up there in the foothills looking over the survivors at Kingsmen’s Keep. Jenka wanted to see what was left of his home and visit his mother’s grave, if she even had one yet. It was true that Zahrellion could handle herself, and if she and Rikky got into a fix, Silva could fly back as fast as lightning to get help.
Jenka shook his head. “So be it, Herald, but I’m not leaving to catch the caravan on the morrow. I’m staying here until Rikky and Zah set out. I can meet the rangers before they get to Demon’s Lake.”
“You were set upon by orcs just outside the wall today, lad. Are you mad?” The old ranger had lost a melon-sized chunk of his arse to a goblin’s maw. Apparently the wound itched all the time, for he scratched at it constantly.
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