by Resa Nelson
Astrid remembered Lenore's insistence that Kikita stay with Lenore and Randim instead of Astrid.
She knew Trep waited for me at home.
Smiling wistfully, Astrid said, “I slept quite well, thank you.”
Lenore kissed Astrid's cheek and whispered, “I'm so pleased for you. It's time for you to be happy again.”
Astrid took a long look in Lenore's eyes, wishing to remember them forever. “I'm grateful we became friends.”
Lenore gave Astrid a quick hug. “As am I. But I must hurry back to the bread I have baking before it burns.”
After Lenore bustled back inside her home, Astrid picked up her pace, still careful not to walk too fast for fear of attracting attention.
When Astrid passed through the outskirts of Guell, she heard the sound of ringing iron from her own smithery. Trep must be working there. Good. When he worked, he focused on nothing but iron. She walked past her smithery and cottage without looking back.
Astrid continued onto the wooden walkway and crossed Dragon's Teeth Field. Once she reached the shore, she waded into the ocean and then swam toward Dragon's Head.
CHAPTER 74
The dream convinced Astrid she could make Taddeo hear her from this place that connected dragons and Scaldings. Once she completed her swim to Dragon's Head, she climbed the rocky outcrop to its peak.
In previous years, this peak had taken the shape of a dragon. But now it bore the outline of her brother and his alchemist. Trees with twisted limbs dotted Dragon's Head, and their plump green leaves rustled as young dragons scurried to hide among them. The sun baked Astrid's skin, a welcome relief from the chilly seawater.
She faced the statue-like figures, not sure how this would work. “Taddeo!” Astrid shouted into the wind that whipped mercilessly across Dragon's Head. “You were right!”
The wind died suddenly, making the leaves on all the surrounding trees fall still. Was Taddeo listening?
A chill swept through Astrid like a sharp winter wind.
How could I have been so stupid to trust that blue woman? After all I’ve seen of Mandulane and the followers of Krystr, why did I think one of them would come here for any reason other than to spy on us? How can I have been so reckless to think I could help one of Mandulane’s women? Why can’t I learn better judgment?
What is wrong with me?
Astrid looked down at her hand knowing it contained the stone of darkness, convinced that if she tried to help Guell she would only cause its destruction.
Astrid braced herself, sickened at the feelings rumbling inside her. She spoke to the empty, quiet air, hoping that Taddeo could hear. “You told me I had to choose who I am every day or else I would lose sight of myself. I thought I paid enough attention, but...” Astrid paused, searching within for the truth. “I don't know what happened. I don't know when or how I stopped thinking about who I want to be.”
Astrid choked back tears, determined not to let one fall.
Blacksmiths don't cry.
She waited, not knowing what to expect. The leaves rustled again on trees all around her. Otherwise, Dragon's Head stood in silence.
A speck of bright white light glowed in the center of her palm. Astrid stared, baffled by the light. The stone of darkness bore a black color as deep as a starless night. But the pinprick of white light glowed from where she'd seen and felt the stone vanish inside her skin.
Astrid looked up with the hope of seeing Taddeo or Wendill or maybe even Norah, but she found herself still alone. She raised her voice. “Krystr soldiers and Mandulane are coming for the Northlands. We need someone ruthless. Someone who is willing to do whatever is necessary to drive away these soulless, hateful men.”
The ground rumbled beneath Astrid's feet, and she took it as a good sign. Now, she chose to speak to Dragon's Head itself. For all she knew, it might be a living, breathing thing. “I know there is some pact between dragons and the Scaldings. You've kept one or the other of us in your embrace for many years.”
Seized with inspiration, Astrid stood again and walked to place her hands upon the stony figure of her brother Drageen. As soon as she touched it, the white speck of light on her hand spread across her entire body, sizzling and popping, although she felt no pain.
“I am the daughter of a Scalding dragonslayer. I am the granddaughter of Benzel Scalding, known as Benzel of the Wolf. If you need a Scalding, take me and set Drageen free.”
The ground cracked beneath her feet, revealing a molten fire beneath. Shallow chasms opened up all around her, and she stood still as the molten fire crawled up toward her. Astrid caught her breath at the shock of the fire's touch when it grabbed her ankles and snaked up around her, too surprised to register the depth of pain.
Astrid barely noticed the wind picking up again, but this time she saw something shimmer in the air, like waves of heat rising up from flat stones on a summer's day. The invisible waves took a familiar shape, and her last act was to smile wistfully when she recognized the faint outline of DiStephan's ghost.
* * *
Drageen felt groggy, as if he were waking from a long dream. Eyes closed, he thought he felt layers of rock fall from his skin, exposing him to the sharpness of an ocean wind.
His eyes opened and he drew in his first breath in two years, wheezing and hacking. He tried to speak, but his voice had been too long out of practice. He managed nothing more than a faint gasping sound.
And the sun nearly blinded him.
Using his arm to shield his long-closed eyes from the sun, he realized the bright light didn't come from overhead. Instead, it came from the stony figure forming beside him.
Drageen took a step, only to fall to his knees. Although his body still worked, it had been out of commission too long like a rusted tool in need of polishing.
And so he arose out of the depths of anguish to stand like the majestic warrior of legend.
Steadying himself, Drageen stood again and croaked, “Bashing, thrashing, crashing like waves against the rocks of Dragon’s Head, I come forth, back into the world I so richly deserve to rule!”
He stared at the statue-like figure of Astrid with her arms lifted to the sky as if to embrace it. Blinding white light surrounded the figure until a black stone fell from its hand and onto the ground.
“Alchemist!” Drageen shouted when he saw a different figure emerge out of the stone. Elated, Drageen looked across the ocean and spotted Guell, the meaningless village he’d decimated however long ago, and the sight of it gave him hope.
He walked toward the figure of Astrid and picked up the stone that had fallen from her hand. Larger than a bloodstone, its faceted surfaces looked smooth and polished. “Alchemist!” he yelled again.
The white-haired woman groaned when she shook off the last bits of rock from her shoulders. She held herself stiffly as she minced her way toward him. “Hello, Drageen. It is nice to see you, too.”
Ignoring her comment, Drageen showed the stone to her by holding it up between his fingers and letting the sunlight strike its heart.
Drageen’s jaw slackened and the alchemist paled when the dark color of the stone evaporated into wisps of curling smoke carried away by the wind. The vanishing color left the stone as clear and flawless as a diamond. Willing his hand not to tremble, Drageen said, “What is this?”
Squinting as she peered closer, the alchemist said, “I believe it is a stone of light.”
Drageen swallowed hard, taking a moment to make sure he’d heard her correctly. “That means when I picked it up, I held the stone of darkness.”
“I believe so.”
“Then everything my father told me is true.” Drageen smiled while he held the stone up higher and watched it cast prisms of rainbow color around him. “I have what I need to reclaim my rightful place in the Northlands.”
The Stone of Darkness
Copyright © 2016 by Resa Nelson
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Cover Art © 2015 by Eric Wilder
Seco
nd Edition January 2016
First published by Mundania Press, 2012
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the invention of the author, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, event, or locale is entirely coincidental.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, many thanks to my fellow writers Tom Sweeney and Carla Johnson for helping me strengthen and sharpen this novel.
The Dragon’s Egg
By Resa Nelson
CHAPTER 1
The most shocking moment of Astrid's life happened when she realized she wasn't dead.
The physical pain overwhelmed her. The rocky surface of Dragon's Head enveloped and consumed her body, seeming to break every bone. She tried to scream until the pressure from the rocks squeezed the air out of her lungs. Helpless, she lost control over her physical being.
Her senses vanished. Astrid saw and heard nothing but darkness. She tasted emptiness. She smelled isolation. She felt a temperature so neutral that the concepts of warm and cool seemed impossible.
She'd used the stone of darkness to call out to the dragons with which her family had conspired. She'd offered herself to Dragon's Head Point in order to set her brother Drageen free, believing him to be the most cunning and heartless man in all the Northlands and therefore its best hope. If anyone could prevent Mandulane and the Krystr soldiers from invading Astrid’s beloved Northlands, Drageen had to be the right man for the task.
Dragon’s Head compressed her into a lump of pain, and that pain burst into regret.
* * *
Drageen stood at the edge of Dragon's Head, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath of cool, salty air. He looked up at the pained cries of the gulls flying overhead on their way toward the nearby coast that harbored Guell. The strong ocean wind whipped his shoulder-length hair, exposing the nape of his neck. He shuddered like a dog coming in from a rainstorm, shaking off the last remnants of rock and dirt that clung to his body after his imprisonment within the rocky outcrop.
He held the clear stone to let sunshine pass through it, sending rays of color all around him. “Then everything my father told me is true,” he said, assuming his alchemist listened attentively. “I have what I need to reclaim my rightful place in the Northlands.”
He glanced at the new statue-like rock in the shape of his sister, Astrid, head raised and arms reaching toward the sky. The hair that had whipped around her now stood as still and cold as iron. He didn’t understand why or how she had exchanged places with him. But he relished being free.
His alchemist cleared her throat and fiddled with the small tools of her trade that she used to keep her white hair in a bun. “Of what did your father inform you?”
Drageen snorted. Normally he'd have someone of the alchemist's station flogged for having the audacity to pose such a personal question. “What my father told me stays within the Scalding family.”
Truth be told, his father revealed little before the man’s untimely death. Only that a dark stone could help Drageen save the Northlands should it ever face a great threat.
Moments ago, Drageen picked up the black stone that fell from Astrid’s hand when she transformed to rock. He’d held it up so that the sunlight could strike its center, unexpectedly causing the dark color of the stone to evaporate into wisps of curling smoke. With sunlight still radiating through its heart, the stone sparkled, clear and flawless.
And his alchemist confirmed that what he now held must be a stone of light.
Drageen said, “Dragon’s Head consumed Astrid. She must have used the stone of darkness. It most likely had enough power to set us loose. Perhaps something went wrong.”
“But the stone of light...” the alchemist said with shaky hesitation.
Drageen turned to stare at her. “What about the stone of light?”
“When the stone of darkness transforms and black becomes white, then the stone becomes a beacon for the one who used it.”
“I am using it now.” Drageen drew himself up proudly. “I have defeated Dragon's Head and emerged from it intact. I have claimed the stone of light, and it will now shine like a beacon for me.” Drageen hesitated. “Precisely how do I make use of this beacon?”
Without warning, the sunlight radiating through the stone faded as if dark clouds blocked the sun. Drageen looked up to see a perfectly clear sky. “There is no reason for this.” He held the stone up higher and rotated it in different directions, trying to catch the sunlight with it again. Frustrated at his failure, he yelled, “Alchemist!”
“I am standing right here,” the alchemist muttered. “No need to shout.” She gathered up her long, full skirt and shook loose the remaining rocks from her own imprisonment in Dragon's Head.
Jabbing the failed stone toward the sky, Drageen let out a cry of frustration. “You broke it!”
“I did no such thing.” The alchemist crossed her arms. “How could I have broken it when you are the only one to have touched it?”
Drageen thrust the paling stone toward her. “Fix it!”
Humoring him, the alchemist removed a small carving tool from her hair bun and used it to poke gently at the stone in Drageen's hand. Giving up after a few moments, she stuck the tool back through her hair where it disappeared from sight. “The stone will not work as a beacon for you. It can only do so for the one who used it, usually the one who created it. That would be Astrid. The stone of light will only respond to her.”
“I see.” Keeping a cool gaze fixed on the alchemist, Drageen tossed the stone of light into the air and caught it in his palm. “Then use your magic to pull Astrid out of Dragon's Head. If nothing else, we can get her to produce more bloodstones.”
“How do we know that setting Astrid free wouldn't create a more dire circumstance?” The alchemist opened her arms, gesturing at the sea surrounding them. “We may know where we are, but we do not know when we are. We do not know what has transpired since the day Astrid placed us here. Has it been days? Months? Years? And what is the state of the Northlands? Of Tower Island?” The alchemist spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “Perhaps we should think about leaving Dragon's Head.”
The stone of light felt cold and dead in Drageen's hand. He threw it to the ground in frustration. “How would you think we can leave? Haven't you seen how we're trapped here? What do you suggest? Calling upon the help of a dragon?”
The strong ocean air whipped into a vortex around Drageen’s ship, abandoned on Dragon’s Head the day he and his alchemist were absorbed by the rocky outcrop. The vortex levitated the wooden vessel a few inches above the ground.
“Make haste,” an invisible voice said. “Before I change my mind about helping you.”
Drageen stared into empty air while his thoughts raced. He recognized a dragon when he heard one, but he didn't recognize this unseen female voice.
Drageen knew Taddeo's voice. He believed he could identify Norah's voice if he heard her again. But they were dragons of the water. When not in mortal or lizard shape, they shaped the sea to their liking.
This unfamiliar dragon seemed to be made of the air surrounding them.
“Who are you?” Drageen whispered.
“Hurry!” the alchemist cried. She jogged toward the ship and then clamored up the rope ladder hanging over its side.
As if waking from a nightmare, Drageen rushed to follow her, abandoning the useless stone he'd thrown to the ground.
By the time Drageen reached the ship, his alchemist had already climbed onto the top deck. She now leaned over, reaching out a hand of encouragement. The ship lifted higher above the ground. “Climb up!”
With a running leap, Drageen hurled himself at the last rung of the ladder before it lifted above his head. Still stiff and sore from his imprisonment inside the rocky surface of Dragon's Head, he struggled until he raised his body high enough to loop a leg over the bottom rung. The vortex swirled faster around the ship, and Drageen clung tightly to the ladder. He scrambled up and onto th
e deck. The ship spun out of control, and the alchemist screamed.
Moments later, the ship crashed onto the surface of the ocean below. The force of the landing made Drageen fall to his knees.
When the ship came to an even keel, the alchemist climbed to her feet and scanned the horizon.
Following suit, Drageen stood to see Dragon's Head diminishing behind them while the ship sailed away from the coast of the Northlands. Too late, Drageen remembered losing the sail on Dragon’s Head when they’d first arrived. Without a sail, this ship would take them wherever it wished. Drageen gazed up at the empty mast.
It's a dragon that's guiding the ship.
Drageen swallowed hard, realizing he wouldn't know his destination until he arrived.
CHAPTER 2
Why haven't I vanished into nothingness?
Astrid braced herself against the ongoing pain while Dragon’s Head consumed her.
Why am I still here?
A wave of despair washed through her.
Blacksmiths don't cry. The smithery is no place for tears. You must pay attention to the fire and tend to it. You must watch the iron as it heats and pull it out of the flames from time to time to make sure it doesn't burn.
A childhood spent locked inside a cage with a dragon that chewed her up, spit her out, and left her skin covered in scars had turned Astrid into a woman who wished harm upon no one. Instead, she wished for a world where people could live in peace and find their own happiness. That wish—and the fear that she didn’t know who she was anymore—had led her here to Dragon’s Head.
Astrid assumed becoming part of Dragon’s Head might feel like drifting into a gentle sleep. She’d never imagined pain would be involved. The cruelty of it snapped her back to her senses.
How do I get out?
By force of habit, she thought to reach out and feel for anything useful in the surrounding darkness. If she still had arms, she couldn't feel them. She tried stretching her hands out in front of her but sensed nothing.