Deadly: The Odyssey of Nath Dragon - Book 3 (The Lost Dragon Chronicles)

by Craig Halloran

  The elves nodded as they talked among themselves and passed the items hand to hand.

  Sigourney continued to talk it up in elvish words that the others couldn’t understand. “I’m working with the city lords and top families, trying to tamp down their superstitions about the dragon trade. After all, the dragons are evil beasts that are better off hunted than trusted. They have a very potent magic that can be used for mankind’s greater good.” She picked up the dagger made from a dragon’s claw. “Dragon armor is hard to penetrate, but this dragon claw, when shaved down, is sharper than mortal steel. We can use the dragons’ own weapons and turn them against them.” She glanced at her guardian goons. “Reaver and Slaughter can attest to that. They have killed many dragons their size and even bigger, all with cunning, strength, and using their own weapons against them. See their breastplate armor? It’s impervious to dragon flames and other scorching attacks. It’s literally saved their skins on more than one occasion.”

  The elves nodded.

  Grinding his teeth and breathing heavily through his nose, Nath was about to launch himself at them when he caught one of the elves combing his hair over his ear. A black diamond-shaped stud was pinned in the elf’s ear, made from onyx. He noticed the other elves had a similar onyx stone for cufflinks. His breath eased. He had what Darkken wanted. Proof that the elves were Caligin.

  Focus on the mission, Nath. Focus on the mission.

  Nath turned away, and that’s when he heard the Merchant Queen say, “We’ve found a nest where a dragon roams hidden in the woodland. We are certain that there are eggs, if not babies, ready to be taken. Do you know how priceless that will be when I acquire them? They don’t call me the Merchant Queen for nothing. Is that something that you elven gentlemen would be interested in?”

  The elves nodded.

  Nath’s blood boiled. Pushing through the people, he made his way toward the men guarding the Merchant Queen. He firmly tapped one on the shoulder and said in Elven, “Do you mind? I would like to take a look at the dragon-scale mail you are wearing.”

  The giant man wearing red dragon armor turned. His arms were crossed over his broad chest. He looked at the Merchant Queen.

  “Well, I see this handsome young warrior speaks Elven. How pleasant,” the Merchant Queen said. “And you are a feast for the eyes too.” She nodded at her goon, and he lowered his arms and pulled back his cloak, fully displaying the glinting crimson-scaled armor. “So, are you interested in a new set of armor? Something very special and very, very expensive?”

  “No, I’m interested in justice.” Nath hauled back, unleashed his fury, and slugged the brute square in the jaw with his bare hand. The man shuffled a half step back, spit out a tooth, and grinned.

  Nath shook his aching hand and said, “Uh-oh.”

  CHAPTER 49

  Before Nath could react, the seven-footer he’d punched grabbed Nath and slammed him back into the planks. Nath’s head cracked hard into the weathered wood. Stars exploded before his eyes. Reaver dropped to a knee, cocked back his oversized fist, snarled, and punched.

  Nath rolled aside.

  Reaver’s fist punched through the floor. He unleashed another vicious blow, hitting Nath full in the gut. The jarring punch shook Nath’s body. His breastplate saved his ribs from shattering. He’d never known such power in a man before. Reaver was stronger than he appeared. Unnaturally so. With power, the seven-footer kept punching Nath’s breastplate. The armor absorbed the blow. Reaver looked at his fist. His brows knitted together. He drew back once more.

  Desperate, Nath planted his feet in Reaver’s gut and kicked him backward. Reaver crashed into Sigourney and the elves’ table, knocking it over. With mashed potatoes and gravy on his face, the enraged man rose back to his full height and wiped off his face. “I tear you apart!”

  At that moment, Sigourney casually stepped in front of Reaver. “No blood can be shed in the Cove. Just get him out of here. We have business to attend to.”

  Shaking his head and catching his breath, Nath lifted his fists. “Let’s dance, big one.”

  Reaver’s knuckles cracked as he clenched his fist and came forward. The crowd shouted and cheered. Reaver waded in and turned loose a haymaker.

  Nath ducked under the swing. He punched Reaver’s ribs with an uppercut. It was like hitting a bag of sand. Nath dug his fists into the man’s ribs with a flurry of hard punches. Reaver didn’t flinch. What is this man made of?

  Reaver filled his hand with Nath’s hair in a mighty grip. He yanked Nath’s head back and head-butted him forehead to forehead. Bone on bone cracked together.

  Pain exploded in Nath’s face. His limbs loosened. Seeing bright spots before his eyes, he felt the other monster man, Slaughter, snatch his arms and hold him by the wrists as his knees buckled. Reaver scooped Nath up by the ankles. With the crowd cheering wildly, Nath was marched through the open front doors and onto the porch. The pouring rain soaked him once more. With a heave, Reaver and Slaughter slung Nath across the road. He landed on the other side, skipped over the muddy waters, and slid into the edge of the adjacent porch. Peeking through his eyelids, he saw the seven-footers lumber back inside. The doors slammed shut behind them, leaving Nath out in the rain.

  “Get up,” someone said.

  Nath looked up onto the porch behind him. Darkken stood on the edge with his arms out. His face was expressionless. Nath took his hands, and the stronger man lifted him to his feet. Blinking, he said, “Where were you? You could have helped me out.”

  “And make matters worse? I don’t think so.” Darkken pushed Nath down the street into an alley where the drains and gutters were overflowing. He pinned Nath against the wall. “What were you thinking?”

  “Sorry, but they were covered in dragon parts and bragging about them. She even said they were going to capture some fledglings and eggs. I can’t stand for that!”

  “Patience! You don’t ever want to let them know that you are coming. Anyway, I’ll have to find a way to do some damage control. It’s best they just think you are a drunken loon or something.”

  Holding his head, Nath replied, “I’m not a drunken loon. Gads, my head hurts. What was that man made of?”

  “Those men are likely part giants or maybe really small ones.” Darkken peeked out of the alley and came back. “So, what did you see?”

  Rubbing his neck, Nath said, “Oh, the dark elves. Yes, they wore onyx. Plain as ugly on that goon’s face.

  Darkken nodded. “Well, believe it or not, your little outburst might have done us a favor. Assuming these Caligin know who you are, it’s possible that they don’t suspect that you know who they are. After all, you attacked the Merchant Queen, not them, and it is possible that the Caligin don’t know about you anyway. That said, we should be able to keep an eye on them and the Merchant Queen. Let’s wait and see what their next move is. Listen, go back to the inn, and get some food in you. I’ll get word out to Maefon and the Brothers of the Wind.” Darkken flashed a smile. “Now the real adventure begins.”

  CHAPTER 50

  Legs and wrists constricted, Calypsa fought against the branches that held her. She yanked fiercely at the bonds and cursed loudly. “Let go of me, you fool! Let go of me now!”

  The red oak groaned. A contorted face formed in the trunk of the grand tree and stared right at her. Its expression was ancient and lazy. In a deep, growly tone, the treant positioned her face to face with it. “Mother calls. Mother searches. I find.”

  Defiant, Calypsa replied, “Let go of me, treant, or I will turn your branches into flames.”

  Like a toothless old man, the treant screwed up its lips. “Mother calls. Mother searches. I find.” A pair of chipmunks appeared inside the treant’s mouth. They peeked at Calypsa with big eyes, jumped to the ground, and ran away. “Come home, child. Come home now.”

  “Tell Mother that I am not going home. Not now. Not ever.” She kicked at the treant. Its limbs held her face. She was caught by many strands of branches like a
fish in a net. “Now release me, else I release my power on you.”

  “You must come. Danger. Return home or pay the price,” the treant moaned.

  The treants in Nalzambor were weird creatures. They were more or less woodland spirits that inhabited trees and brought them to life. Their faces would form in the trunk of the tree, giving the bark life, and they controlled the limbs and roots like snakes. They were always creeping, and Calypsa had never cared for them. They were her mother’s favorite spies.

  The treant’s limbs constricted.

  Glaring at it, she said, “I cannot be forced to return. It must be of my own freewill. I strongly suggest you release me.” She summoned her power. Her eyes shined orange as flames covered her arms, glowing with a fiery glimmer.

  The treant’s jaws widened. It shook her fiercely. “You have been warned, foolish daughter of the mother!” Its branches uncoiled. Its face in the trunk faded. The leaves in the branches shook, and the tree spirit departed.

  Calypsa’s shining eyes and arms cooled. She rubbed her wrists. Shaking her head, she said to the forest, “Just leave me alone, Mother.” She resumed her journey, putting the warning behind her and focusing on finding Rond again.

  Finally, after a long journey through the terrain, she made it back to the spot where she was towed behind the wagon away from Slaver Town. From this point, it wouldn’t be difficult for her to find Rond. Nature saw everything, and she was part of nature. On bare feet, she moved west into the woods and up the hill. It wasn’t the first time that she’d chased after Rond. He was a notorious pouter, inclined to sulking off when things didn’t go his way. Still, with a smile on her face, she went after him, looking forward to mending fences. She looked forward to life being simple again, the way it used to be.

  She connected with several woodland varmints who alerted her to Rond’s passing through. The huge bugbear was hard to miss, and though the critters were vague on details, as they only communicated with little squeaking sounds, it was enough to send Calypsa in the right direction. Crossing through the rugged hillside, she made her way back down the other side to where the tall grasses met up with the willowwacks. A faint trail could be seen in the grasses that only appeared to be a couple of days old.

  A chill breeze slipped through her clothing, causing her to shiver. The northern winds had come far south. Something felt wrong. She entered the field of grass, moving at a brisk pace. She called out in a worried voice, “Rond? Rond?”

  It didn’t take her long to arrive at a spot where the wildflowers had been crushed, and dried blood was on the grasses. Her blood went cold. She followed the trail where a big person had run roughshod through the field, leaving a blood-stained trail. She made it to the edge of the river. Huge footprints were pressed into the soft bank.

  “Rond!”

  She waded into the waters up to the waist, searching frantically for him. Studying the waters, the shriek of a bird of prey caught her attention. Where the river flowed south, she could see where it fell off in a waterfall. Just beyond it, vultures were circling. Charging through the surging waters, she raced to the edge of the waterfall and took the high rocks that overlooked the flowing edge. Thirty feet below, the cascading waters splashed into the river. Farther up about forty yards, she could see a hulking figure sprawled out over the rocks. It was Rond. His body was filled with arrows. He wasn’t moving. Two vultures were on the ground nipping at him.

  “Rond!”

  She swan-dived off the waterfall and into the crashing waves below. She didn’t stop until she made it to Rond. She shouted at the nasty birds, “Get away from him!” She patted Rond. “No, no, no. Don’t be dead.”

  Rond’s skin was pasty and sagging. Arrows had feathered him like a chicken. The wounds were nasty and gaping. His body smelled. Tears filled her eyes. “Noo,” she sobbed. “Noo!” She lay across him, hugging him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Don’t be dead, Rond. You can’t be dead!”

  She wiped the tears from her eyes. Numb from head to toe, she tried to think of what she could do, but her mind was rattled. At first, all she could think of was him, then she found herself asking, “Who did this to you? Who?”

  The answer to her question was right before her eyes as she stared at the arrows protruding from his body. The feathers on the wooden shafts were black and white, the same as the Brothers of the Wind. Then it all became crystal clear. The elves, Maefon, and Darkken were all Caligin, and they wanted her as far away from Nath Dragon as possible.

  “They will pay for this,” she said out loud. “I will avenge you, Rond, and all of your enemies shall die!”

  Maefon and three elves stepped out of the nearby woodland. The elves had arrows notched on their bowstrings. Maefon twirled an arrow between her fingers. She looked right at Calypsa. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Chest heaving, Calypsa stood up and, in a voice that could kill, said, “You did this!”

  Maefon showed a winning smile. Tapping the arrowhead in the palm of her hand, she said, “As much as I would like to take credit for it, I’m afraid I can’t. You see, Lord Darkken is responsible. He’s responsible for a great many things, but it’s nothing that you need to concern yourself with now. You’ll soon be dead.”

  “Don’t bet on it.” Calypsa eyed the elves.

  Clad in traveling cloaks with black armor underneath, they spread out while keeping aim on her.

  “I see you brought some friends. What is the matter? Do you fear that you cannot take me on alone?”

  Maefon shrugged. “Just in case you slip through my fingers, their arrows will bring you to a permanent halt. The Caligin don’t take chances. That is why we are so effective.”

  Calypsa wanted to smack the smug look off Maefon’s face, but she wanted answers too. “What is this all about, elf? Why are you trying to kill us? Is it all because you want Nath to yourself?”

  “Not me so much as the Lord of the Dark in the Day.”

  “Darkken?”

  “Lord Darkken needs Nath for his own ambitious purposes. That is all you need to know.”

  Calypsa wasn’t satisfied. She shook her chin. “It has something to do with the dragons, doesn’t it? He’s the reason that Nath left Dragon Home.” Her eyes grew big. “He murdered the fledglings?”

  “No, he ordered the murder of the fledglings, and there will be many more to come.” Maefon came a few steps closer. She sniffed the air. “Your friend stinks.”

  “Not as much as you.” Calypsa backed into the waters as she quickly began putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “You’ve set Nath up from the beginning. You’ve been pretending to be his friend all along, winning him over, when in truth, you are the enemy that he is looking for. Hacksaw was right all along.”

  “Yes, and now he sleeps comfortably in a cold, watery grave. Just like you will be.”

  “You’ve killed Hacksaw too?”

  “We’ve killed everyone that Nath has ever known. Rond, you, the Black Hand, and Hacksaw.” Maefon shrugged. “There will probably be a few more easy targets, but you, I want you all to myself.” She tilted her head to one side. “What is the matter, dryad? Are you afraid?”

  “No,” she replied as she backed away. In truth, her stomach was turning upside down. Calypsa wasn’t some street brawler. She was a woodland creature who, for the better part of her life, had managed to avoid conflict. Like an animal, she only fought when she had to. She backed deeper into the waters. Running might be the best option. A large shadow passed overhead. Something big splashed down into the shallow waters behind her. She turned and gasped.

  A giant two-headed vulture taller than her stood behind her. Its ugly bent necks were stooped forward. Its four emerald eyes burned into her soul. It was a hideous thing with a bare, prickly neck and coarse black feathers. Its beaks clacked together, making a grinding, cracking sound.

  Calypsa’s heart raced. The ominous bird spooked her more than Maefon and the elves. There was somethi
ng very off about it. She looked back at Maefon. “Who is this? Your father or mother?”

  “Jest all that you like, but Galtur is just a little more assurance that you won’t get away. Death is the only escape from the Caligin.” Maefon’s eyes started to glow with an inner fire. “But at least you’ll get one chance at me.”

  “So, it’s just me and you, then? To the bitter end?”

  With a dark expression, Maefon nodded.

  Calypsa tapped into the energy of nature. Its natural powers coursed through her body. Her fingernails twinkled with light. “This is for Rond.”

  Maefon sniggered. “And this is from me.” With a flick of the wrist, the arrow shot out of her fingers and buried itself deep in Calypsa’s midriff.

  She dropped to a knee, groaning.

  Maefon dusted off her hands. “That was easy.”

  CHAPTER 52

  Clutching her belly, Calypsa swayed and stumbled. Maefon came forward, sloshing coolly through the waters. She pulled out her daggers. “Don’t fight death, Calypsa. It’s inevitable. Just close your eyes and embrace it.”

  Calypsa held the arrow by the shaft with one hand. She sneered at Maefon. “I don’t die that easily.”

  “You are only prolonging your pain.” Maefon’s eyes drifted to the arrow in the woman’s gut.

  Calypsa started pulling it out.

  Maefon’s stomach twisted. Her mouth hung open, then she stammered, “What… what are you doing?”

  The dryad pulled the arrow out of her own body and pointed the tip at Maefon. “I’m not flesh and blood like you suspect, foolish elf.” Her eyebrows knitted together. “I’m something entirely different.” Her body flexed and heaved against her clothing.