The Dragonslayer Series: Books 1-4: The Dragonslayer Series Box Set

by Resa Nelson

  Light emerged from the stone of darkness and flooded the room, forcing the clerks to shield their eyes from its brightness. Astrid squinted and turned her head, pushing her lighted hand away. She saw Norah and Taddeo standing in an arched doorway made of yellow bricks. Norah held out a hand to Astrid, gesturing for her to join the dragons.

  But a sudden hunger rumbled in Astrid's belly. She didn't have time for dragons. She longed for blood.

  Taddeo's voice carried on the wind. “If you don't keep an eye on who you are, you can turn into someone you don't recognize.”

  I know who I am. I decide who I am every day.

  As if some invisible hand moved them, the bloodstones that led her inside the mansion picked themselves up and piled into a black leather pouch resting by the pit's edge.

  The light emitting from the stone of darkness narrowed into a beam and fell upon the black leather pouch full of bloodstones.

  Astrid stared at Mandulane, who leaned against one wall inside the pit. Smiling with utter confidence, he balanced a dagger on one fingertip.

  She removed the empty sheath from her belt. What good would it do her now? Letting it clatter on the smooth stone floor beneath her feet, Astrid walked toward the edge of the pit and picked up the leather pouch containing the bloodstones. It weighed heavier than she imagined, and the weight felt good in her hands. A cold, hard feeling coursed through her veins as she kept a close watch on Mandulane, who now wrapped his fingers around the grip of his dagger.

  Astrid circled the edge of the pit, holding the leather pouch by its long drawstring and letting the pouch's weight swing back and forth like a pendulum.

  Mandulane eased into the center of the pit, turning in place while he tracked Astrid's every step. He held the dagger below his waist and rested his thumb on the blade, keeping it pointed at Astrid's heart.

  She took a swing at Mandulane's head with the weighted pouch, but he ducked and missed the blow. Off balance, Astrid stumbled but regained her footing.

  Mandulane lunged and stabbed at her ankle, but she stepped away before he could touch her. His face dark with anger, Mandulane hurled himself toward the pit's edge and slashed at Astrid's leg, but she pivoted back on one foot before the blade reached her.

  “DiStephan taught me how to kill lizards. I can just as easily kill men.” Astrid pivoted forward and smacked Mandulane in the head with the pouch filled with bloodstones. She pivoted away from the pit before Mandulane could respond.

  He clutched his head, gazing at Astrid in horror. “You struck me!”

  “You challenged me to this fight!” Astrid looked for an opening to deliver the next blow. “You could have walked past me when you saw me. You could have left the Northlands alone.”

  Furious, Mandulane tried to climb out of the pit, but Astrid placed one foot on his chest and kicked him back down inside it the same way she had kicked him off the ship and into the sea. Springing forward, she dealt a sudden blow to the side of his head.

  Surprised, he hesitated, failed to block it, and his head rattled when the pouch struck him. Mandulane dropped to his knees, and then fell to the bottom of the pit.

  Astrid kept a good distance and watched his face closely. For a moment, his eyelids fluttered.

  Mandulane sprang to his feet and reached for Astrid's ankles, but she stepped away from his reach and hit him in the head again.

  Dazed, Mandulane relaxed his grip on the dagger, and it slipped onto the floor by Astrid's feet.

  She swept the dagger up with one hand and plunged it into Mandulane's back.

  He cried out once before collapsing back into the pit.

  The onlooking clerks shrieked and ran away from Astrid and toward the mansion's entrance. Their sandals clattered like rain against the stone floor while they ran, and their brown robes billowed like sails.

  Astrid felt comforted by the heft of the pouch still in her hands as she watched the pit while walking away from it. By the time she reached the mansion's entrance, she discovered herself alone.

  But when Astrid walked outside, she stopped abruptly, stunned by what she saw.

  Slaughtered bodies covered the land surrounding the mansion for as far as she could see. At first, Astrid recognized hundreds of Krystr followers by their brown robes. Beyond them lay the bodies of Komdra and his men.

  A wave of fear rushed through her. Astrid wished she had the comfort of Starlight's grip in her hands. Missing it, she tightened her grip on the pouch of bloodstones. She couldn't stay here. She felt an urgency to walk through the field of bodies she faced and leave them all behind.

  Astrid picked her steps carefully as she walked among the dead. She caught her breath and stopped when she recognized Thorda on the ground a few paces ahead. Like the others, her skin had paled to a bluish-white, and her empty eyes stared into nothing.

  “No,” Astrid said as she knelt by Thorda. Picking up the Iron Maiden's cold hand, Astrid shook it. “Wake up, Thorda. It's time to go. Wake up.”

  Thorda's arm flopped when Astrid shook her hand. A rotting stench filled Astrid's nose. Dropping Thorda's hand in horror, Astrid stood. She covered her nose and mouth with her hands. Letting her gaze wander, Astrid saw the bodies of other Iron Maidens scattered across the field, those who now lived and those who had already died. Jewely. Efflin. Even Banshi.

  How can this be? Didn’t Mandulane’s men kill Jewely and Efflin? Didn't Banshi die weeks ago? Didn't a lizard's bite already kill her?

  As if in response to Astrid's questions, Banshi's body deteriorated until all her flesh vanished and her bright white skeleton basked in the sun.

  Astrid shuddered and kept picking her way through the field of corpses. For a moment, she brightened with hope at the realization that she hadn't found Kikita's body.

  “She must be alive,” Astrid said out loud, gaining confidence at the sound of her own voice. Thunder rumbled, and when she looked up, lightning flashed across the sky. The ground trembled beneath her feet, and a stormy wind whipped around her body.

  Astrid walked past the last dead body and toward the shore. She noticed large heaps of sand dotting the beach. The sand specters rose out of those heaps, struggling to move their wet legs toward her.

  No. You won't kill me like you killed them.

  She shifted the heavy pouch of bloodstones from one hand to the other.

  I'm a dragonslayer.

  As the sand specters dragged themselves toward her, Astrid whipped the pouch at the closest one. The pouch connected cleanly with its grainy head, which burst apart. The headless specter stumbled over its own feet and fell to its knees, exploding on impact.

  That's right.

  Astrid relished the sweet sting of power that shook her to the core.

  Try to hurt me, and I will kill you.

  The other specters kept pressing forward, and Astrid charged toward them, swinging the pouch of bloodstones with fury. One by one, the specters fell or collapsed into piles, leaving Astrid standing alone.

  Astrid smiled, congratulating herself silently.

  The piles of defeated sand moved and shifted until they formed dead bodies.

  Astrid's harsh joy vanished when she began to recognize the bodies. Randim. Lenore. Donel. Beamon. Kamella. The blacksmiths of Guell.

  DiStephan.

  The air chilled with silence.

  If everyone is dead, am I alone in the world?

  The ocean no longer crashed against the shore. Instead, the sea became as still as a mirror.

  With an inexplicable urge, Astrid hurried toward it. Kneeling, she stared into the still water at her feet.

  Her eyes had turned lavender. Unwittingly, her shape had shifted so that she now looked like her brother Drageen.

  Chilled, she stared at her reflection.

  I am no better than any other murderer who walks in this world.

  CHAPTER 71

  Astrid woke up screaming and punching the air with her fists. It took a few moments for her to become aware of strong arms embrac
ing her from behind and the heat and soft hair on a muscular chest pressing against her back.

  “Ain't nothing but a dream,” Trep said. “I got you.”

  Astrid breathed hard and fast, gasping for air. “A dream,” she said. “I had a dream.”

  Trep kissed the back of her neck, his lips soft and tender, and then held her close.

  She gave herself the luxury of relaxing into his arms and listening to his quiet breath with every rise and fall of his chest. A faint scent of smoke from the blacksmithing forge lingered in his hair from yesterday's work. Astrid took one of his hands in hers, cherishing the familiar sooty smudges around and under his fingernails. When she was a blacksmith, her hands had looked like his.

  Suddenly, the sound of distant shouting filled the air.

  Without another word, Trep sprang out of bed, tossed Astrid's clothes to her, and then reached for his own.

  * * *

  Astrid dug her heels into the soft grass beneath her feet while she raced to keep up with Trep. They sprinted to the outskirts of Guell and then into the village center, where they found everyone crowded around Donel. The young blacksmith kneeled in the middle of the road, pinning a blue-skinned woman face down on the dirt.

  “Let her go!” Lenore pleaded as Randim held her close, surrounded by the other blacksmiths, their families, and the other villagers. “Donel, you're hurting her!”

  Astrid pushed her way through the crowd until she faced Donel and the strange woman. “What happened?”

  Donel's face darkened in a way she'd never seen before, and his eyes filled with hate. “Your young dragons found her at the gate. They toyed with her but didn't bite.” He blew away a strand of hair that drifted across his eyes. “Don't know why they didn't. They should have.”

  “Donel!” Lenore cried out in horror.

  Donel recoiled for a moment as if she'd struck him. The blue-skinned woman beneath him tried to wriggle free, but he pressed his knee harder against her back, keeping her pinned to the ground. “How'd you like it if she'd killed you or your man in your sleep?”

  Beamon and Kamella, two of Astrid's first neighbors from the old days in Guell, held hands as they stood across the crowd from Lenore. Now married, Kamella's belly bulged with the presence of their first child. “She wouldn't do it,” Kamella said. “She couldn't.” She looked at Beamon. “I wouldn't, so how could she?”

  “Stop,” Astrid said, holding up her hands to the crowd for emphasis. “This woman belongs to Mandulane. Remember, he colors their skin against their will to mark them as his own. She's probably a Midlander or Southlander. She might even be from the Northlands.” She placed a gentle hand on Donel's shoulder. “Let her stand.”

  “You don't understand,” Donel said, looking up to meet Astrid's gaze. “The dragons don't like her. They had her cornered against the gate. They banged their tails against the fence to give us alarm. When I opened the gate, the dragons hissed at her. They never do that with any of us.”

  Astrid squeezed his shoulder. “Everyone in Guell surrounds us. We have her cornered now. What could she possibly do with all of us standing guard?”

  Reluctantly, Donel released his knee and stood, hands balled into fists and ready to fight.

  When the blue-skinned woman stood, Astrid took note of the long robe she wore. Hadn't the women in the port city of Gott worn clothes like this?

  The woman hunched over as if in pain and brushed the dirt from her clothes.

  “Who are you?” Astrid said. “Why have you come here?”

  The woman threw the back of her elbow into Donel's face, knocking him to the ground. She then sprang and wrapped her hands around Astrid's throat.

  At first, Astrid felt paralyzed, stunned by the pain of the woman's sharp fingernails digging into her neck and the crushing pressure against her throat. Then she panicked, feeling the same desperation as if discovering she needed to breathe while swimming deep under water and not knowing if she could reach the surface in time.

  Gagging, Astrid clawed at the woman's steadfast hands.

  Suddenly, they loosened and fell away.

  Gasping, Astrid collapsed to the ground. She looked up to see the blue-skinned woman clawing helplessly at an elbow smothering her nose and mouth from behind. The woman thrashed, but whoever stood behind her stayed as still as a rock. Her muffled cries pierced the silence surrounding her. No one crowded around her seemed to move or even breathe.

  Finally, the blue-skinned woman's struggle slowed and her body went limp. The arm pressed against her face waited for another several moments as if to be certain and then released her, letting the stranger's body slip to the ground.

  Only then did Astrid recognize Kikita as the one who'd just now saved her life.

  Gradually, Astrid noticed the men circled around them with weapons drawn or fists clenched, ready to step in. Randim and several others held daggers. Trep had picked up a stone as big as his hand. It took several minutes for them to let their hands soften and put their weapons away. Relief washed across their faces.

  Kikita stepped forward, extended her hand, and pulled Astrid to her feet. Speaking so that only Astrid could hear, Kikita said, “It's best to keep a man from having to live with the memory of killing a woman.”

  Astrid nodded, and then turned her attention to Donel, who struggled to keep his balance when he stood. “I'm sorry, Donel. You were right. I should have listened to you.”

  He wiped away a thin stream of blood trickling from his nose and nodded.

  Staring at the dead body of the blue-skinned woman, Astrid knew what she had to do for the sake of Guell, everyone she loved, and all of the Northlands.

  CHAPTER 72

  DiStephan's ghost stood on the final step of the stairway that wound from the ground floor of the tower on Tower Island to its very top, where the iron cage that had once held Astrid and Norah captive now stood as a sculpture of a woman bearing a sword, her hair flying free in the wind. Because Fiera began her magic at the top of the stairs, DiStephan now stood at the bottom. From here he could gaze through the open door leading to the courtyard outside.

  I'm almost free. Then they'll let me return to Astrid.

  He no longer cared that she would never be able to see him again. He only cared about being by her side, ready to guide her if she needed him.

  Taddeo paced near the open door, casting a nervous glance at Fiera while she focused on releasing the last bit of darkness from the stairway.

  Fiera eased her head back. A look of ecstasy lit up her face. Her cheeks glowed pink as her arms drifted parallel to her shoulders and sparks danced across her fingertips.

  A whooshing sound plummeted throughout the tower, spiraling around the staircase. A column of black smoke seeped out of the last step, carried up and out of the top of the tower by a powerful wind.

  Taddeo rushed to Fiera's side and placed his hands on her waist. He turned her until she faced the wall opposite the step where DiStephan stood, and then guided her into it.

  The wall shimmered and dissolved, opening up like a door to a passageway leading deep underground.

  Taddeo glanced back and smiled at DiStephan. “Fare well, dragonslayer.”

  If DiStephan had been alive, he would have felt his heart race. A pressure seemed to lift from his essence, and he felt free once more.

  Fiera's arms fluttered back by her side. She appeared to wake up and notice Taddeo and the passageway before them. Puffing up like a peacock, she preened, running her fingertips through her own hair.

  But when Taddeo took a step forward, an invisible force stopped him. “No,” Taddeo said in disbelief, touching the empty but solid space before him. “The passageway is still blocked! It’s impossible for us to leave!”

  As DiStephan focused on his memory of Guell and felt himself dissipate, he saw Taddeo spin to face him, shouting, “Find the last dragon and tell her we need her!”

  CHAPTER 73

  “I have something for you.”

  Inside Donel
's small cottage, Astrid placed the box she'd dug up from her yard at his feet.

  His eye had already blackened from where the blue-skinned woman elbowed him before attacking Astrid. But he seemed to have cheered up after carrying the woman's body back to the gates and tossing it to Smoke, Fire, and Slag, happy for the fresh meat. Donel looked down at the box, covered in sandy earth. “What is it?”

  She knelt by the box, and he followed suit. Opening the lid, she said, “Bloodstones.”

  “What are bloodstones?”

  Astrid sank her fingers into the dozens of gems inside the box, remembering the first time one had broken through the bottom of her foot. “Protection. But you need to find an alchemist who knows how to release the power from each stone. Once that happens, anyone can use it to protect their skin. We can fight against the Krystr soldiers and kill them, but they won't be able to hurt us.”

  Donel's face brightened with hope. “Then we can keep the Northlands safe.” He hesitated. “But why bring them to me?”

  Astrid grinned. “Because right now I need a good blacksmith.”

  * * *

  After leaving Donel's cottage, Astrid stayed mindful as she took one last walk through Guell.

  Lenore will be angry. And Trep. But if they knew what I'm about to do, they'd stop me. They haven't seen Mandulane. They don't understand how deadly he can be.

  Astrid gave herself the luxury of sauntering, taking in every glorious face and sight of the village. They'd decided to spend a few days making sure everyone who remained in Guell had what they needed, especially in terms of farming tools.

  Several of the blacksmiths worked at the large forge in the center of the village, making extra nails and hoe blades and everything else they thought necessary. Astrid breathed in the wonderful smoky scent and smiled at the sound of the bellows pumping.

  Will I have a memory? Or will everything simply end?

  She decided it didn't matter.

  She worried when Lenore ran out of her cottage to catch up with her. Lenore gave Astrid a knowing smile and said, “Did you sleep well last night?”