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

by Resa Nelson

  Someone had stolen one of his ships. Even though he now wielded two swords and the coast of the Northlands lay tantalizingly close, Mandulane decided the time had come to retreat.

  After all, Clerk Thomas had already provided what Mandulane needed: a map of the only path through the treacherous, shallow waters off the Northlander shore. It would be simple to return with more ships and men.

  Mandulane smiled.

  Especially now that he’d killed his first Scalding.

  Before the slower, stolen Krystr ship could catch up, Mandulane left his own broken ship behind, sailing the sleeker and faster Northlander ship back to his base camp in the Midlands. Speeding away, he heard a splash that made him wonder if the clerk chose to abandon the Krystr ship one last time.

  CHAPTER 45

  Kikita hovered in the form of air above the Krystr ship Mandulane abandoned when he boarded Drageen’s Northlander vessel, now sailing it back to his camp in the Midlands.

  In the opposite direction, the clerk who jumped from the Krystr ship swam toward an isle-let. She noted he could remain a problem.

  The other Krystr ship helmed by Hevrick and occupied by the boys and old men from the Western Islands now skimmed past the vessel abandoned by Mandulane and toward the Southern coast of the Northlands, navigating the treacherous, shallow waters with care.

  Good, Kikita thought. Mandulane has given up for now.

  That would give her time to tend to her own.

  The sails of Mandulane’s Krystr ship hung in tatters, shredded by the arrows shot by Drageen. It could do nothing but drift in these waters unless someone brought new sails or a way to repair the damaged ones. Drageen had rendered Mandulane’s ship useless.

  Kikita descended toward the deck of the abandoned ship while wisps of white curling smoke gathered and formed her airy shape. She surveyed the damage.

  Mandulane’s Krystr soldiers lay dead and dying, impaled by arrows and soaked in blood.

  Kikita wrinkled her nose in distaste. Ever since Taddeo removed the pact that bound her to her spirit body, she’d begun to remember who she was. That included forgetting the habits she’d picked up when she walked and fought by the sides of mortals. Now, she reviled the putrid smell of death. She picked her way across the deck, stepping over and around the fallen soldiers.

  “Please.” One of them opened his eyes and squinted at Kikita, not seeming to see her well enough to realize she wasn’t mortal. An arrow pierced his thigh and pinned him to the deck. “Help me.”

  Kikita knelt by his head and let her hand hover above it as if she might stroke his hair. A century ago, Kikita agreed to take Taddeo’s advice and pose as a Far Eastern woman seeking to better herself. Last year, she passed through Far Eastern villages searching to recruit a colleague. Kikita knew if she were one of two women, she’d appear more credible. Although chances were slim, Kikita didn’t want anyone suspecting her of being anything other than mortal. She remembered meeting Banshi and traveling to the Southlands where they joined local women and Midlanders to train with Vinchi.

  Vinchi.

  Kikita smiled, remembering her time with him. She thought of him as a remarkable man with a remarkable heart, pushing every woman to her limit so she could learn her own depth and greatness.

  If all of the people who walked on the world’s skin were like Vinchi, there would have been no need for us to come.

  The soldier wheezed with every breath. He wouldn’t last much longer.

  Kikita remembered traveling with the Iron Maidens and learning first-hand about Mandulane and his followers. Horrified by what she saw, Kikita now understood the depth of the severity of the danger they posed.

  She leaned close to the soldier’s face and hissed, “Krystr!”

  His eyes widened and rounded with terror.

  Kikita felt tempted to deal with him last to prolong his suffering. But she quickly recognized that feeling must be the lingering result of having inhabited a mortal body for 100 years.

  Taddeo had not only ripped that mortal body away from her, but he seemed to be limiting her abilities now. She’d found herself voiceless with Astrid at the moment she tried to tell her the truth, and her control of the air had weakened to a point where she could do little more than raise a good wind.

  Before she could change her mind, Kikita smothered the soldier’s nose and mouth with wind shaped by her hands. So much blood had spilled from his body that it left him too weak to fight back. The moment she sensed his death, Kikita walked away before she could regret her gift to the undeserving soldier.

  She’d descended onto this ship in order to take care of her own blood. She recognized Drageen’s boots, which still covered the legs hacked off by a Krystr.

  Raising a strong breeze to strengthen her wispy arms, she lifted and carried the legs to the side of the ship and placed them gently in the sea. Kikita let her fingertips linger while she leaned over the railing.

  “Hear me, Taddeo,” she said. “I give to you the remainder of the body of my grandson, Drageen. We learned much from him over the years, and in the end he served us well. Let his legs reunite with the rest of his mortal body and guide his spirit.”

  The sea churned and bubbled beneath her fingertips, and she watched Drageen’s legs sink into the dark waters.

  “Well done, grandchild,” Kikita said, staring into the depths of the ocean. “Well done.”

  She then turned to the mess on the abandoned Krystr ship. The temptation to call upon Fiera and request a lightning strike to set the vessel ablaze tugged at Kikita. But she believed such a decision should be made by mortals, not dragons. At least, for now.

  Kikita spent the next hour tossing bodies overboard without another word or thought.

  * * *

  Sometime later, Kikita breezed to the Southern coast. She landed on soft sand, a good distance beyond the Northlander encampment.

  “Kikita?”

  She looked around and discovered Komdra picking up kindling on the beach.

  She smiled with genuine fondness. “Komdra! I’m happy to see you again.”

  Komdra stared at her, his face pale and drawn. “You are made of air. But you look like no ghost. I’ve seen ghosts. You have more substance than a ghost.” His eyes widened and became round, reminding Kikita of the Krystr soldier that had begged for her help. “I know who you are!” Komdra shouted.

  Forgetting his apparent mission, he didn’t notice that the kindling fell from his hands. He pointed at Kikita. “You are a Goddess of Air! You are no woman. You are a powerful spirit!”

  “Quiet!” Kikita said. “I have my duty, and I will have no one deter me from it!”

  Komdra sank to his knees and folded his hands in prayer, gazing up at her. “Consider me your devoted servant, Mistress Air.” Komdra smiled with the joy of holding information no other man held. “I know a goddess. We traveled together! We are already friends!” He stared at her in wonder. “And now you speak my language!”

  Kikita smiled. “I speak all languages, although I do not always let others know that. I remember your loyalty to Astrid and the Iron Maidens. And how fiercely you fought by our sides against Mandulane and his Krystr soldiers. Yes, we are friends.”

  Komdra clapped his hands together. “I have a goddess for a friend and I never knew it until this moment!”

  In an effort to settle him down, Kikita wrapped her airy hands around his. “And I need you to keep quiet about what you know.”

  “Yes!” Komdra bubbled. “Of course!” He hesitated. “I’m your friend!”

  Taddeo may have forced Kikita out of her mortal body, prevented her from physically helping mortals, and silenced her when she tried to tell Astrid the truth, but it seemed she still had the ability to pass on a little advice.

  Kikita tightened her grip until it caught his attention. “One more thing. I need you to do something for me.”

  Komdra swallowed hard. “Yes, my mistress. My goddess. I will follow you to the ends of the world itself.”
>
  “I am counting on it.” Kikita smiled and released her grip on his hands, thinking about how Astrid had already changed the fate of the world.

  CHAPTER 46

  Trep, Peppa, and a handful of Boglanders struck a bargain with the brigands to take the ship to the Land of Vines and then return later, hoping to bring back goods.

  But for now, the Northlander ship rolled and pitched in violent waves, heading to the land on the opposite end of the Western Sea. Sheets of icy rain stung Trep’s face. The wind snapped the single square sail so hard that it cracked like a whip. Drenched, Trep shivered hard and fast.

  Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark clouds in the distance. Moments later, ear-splitting thunder shuddered through the air.

  Trep clutched the rail to steady his balance on the unpredictable deck, slanting down one moment and upward the next. Berating himself for knowing so little about ships that he hadn’t done this sooner, Trep spent the next several minutes bringing down the sail and securing it. He then made his way below deck, securing the hatch in place above his head.

  Trep found Peppa and the Boglanders sitting on the floor of the ship’s hull. They’d covered themselves completely in leather, layered on their bodies so that they looked like brown roses in bloom.

  He noticed the dragon curled up in Peppa’s lap and her heavily-leathered arms and hands wrapped around it.

  When Trep’s feet hit the floor, the dragon scampered out of Peppa’s lap and toward him. It had grown to the size of a fox during their days at sea. The dragon’s legs elbowed out to the side. With every step its paws dragged so the backs scraped the floor before plopping in place for the next step. Leaping toward him, it wrapped itself around his leg.

  The pitching ship made it easy for Trep to drop to his knees. He placed a steady hand on top of the dragon’s head. “There, there, Little One. We’ll be home soon.”

  “Home?” Peppa said. “We haven’t seen a hint of solid ground since we left the Land of Ice. What if there is no more land? What if we’re headed toward the end of the world? What if we sail straight off the world’s edge and into oblivion?”

  The ship gave an exceptionally violent lurch, and Peppa screamed.

  The dragon shuddered and buried its head under Trep’s bent knee.

  “You’re giving fright to the Little One,” he said.

  Peppa’s eyes widened in astonishment. “The dragon? You’re worried about the dragon?”

  Trep nodded.

  “What about me? I’m your sister! Your blood!”

  Trep hesitated, wanting to speak the truth that he believed, the truth he believed Kikita had told him. Although he felt anxious to be honest with Peppa, he also knew she hadn’t gained enough strength to hear it yet.

  But perhaps she could accept hearing some of the truth. Perhaps that would calm her nerves.

  “The goddess of air gave this dragon to me and told me to take care of it,” Trep said.

  Peppa gave him a blank stare. Finally, she snapped out of it and said, “Which is why we’re having such a smooth and uneventful journey.”

  The Boglanders’ laughter sounded uncomfortable and strained.

  “No need to be snarky,” Trep said, willing himself to stay calm. “Been too long since we’ve seen each other for that.”

  The dragon pulled its head from behind his knee and peeked at Peppa. Reaching upward, it placed one front paw on top of Trep’s bent leg and hauled itself up to stand on its hind legs. The young dragon leaned against Trep’s chest and placed its head on his shoulder.

  Trep marveled at the feelings that rushed through him. Love. The compulsion to be protective. A keen sense of responsibility.

  Kikita told him this would happen, but he only now believed her. He wrapped an arm around the dragon, which drooled on his shoulder.

  Peppa pointed at them. “That is a dangerous animal! All it has to do is give you a nip, and you’ll be dead!” Her frustration increased and she sputtered while she talked. “All you’ve got to protect yourself are your blacksmithing gloves and your boots. That thing is unnatural—it’s growing too quickly. We should tie it up and stay away from it. But you insist on treating it like a baby!”

  “It is a baby!” Trep paused and considered the dragon’s size. “Although perhaps it’s now more of a toddler.”

  Peppa shook her head in exasperation. “A dragon toddler! Whoever heard of such a thing?”

  Trep watched the Little One drool on his shoulder, not caring that it dampened his cloak even more.

  By the dragon’s glazed eyes and slow breathing, Trep could tell it had fallen asleep.

  Or had it been lulled into sleep?

  “The ship,” Trep said. “It’s settled down.”

  Peppa said, “Could the storm be over?”

  Trep looked for a place to put the sleeping dragon down but remembered Kikita’s advice: never leave it alone, not even if you think it might be perfectly safe.

  Trep wrapped his arms around the dragon’s body. He grunted, standing to his feet while holding the weight of the creature to his chest. He took his time climbing to the top deck, freeing a hand every now and then to grab a rung and steady himself while the ship rolled gently beneath him.

  He carried the dragon, its head now lolled to one side with its jaw hanging open. The dragon’s breath sounded loud and uneven. Trep smiled at the clearing skies awash with the orange glow of the setting sun.

  “Wait for me!” Peppa called.

  Trep turned to see his sister, still bundled in layers of protective leather, waddle up from below. She took her time, checking her balance with every step. Finally, she stood on the deck and joined his side.

  “See?” Trep said, nodding at the sky. “It’s become a beautiful afternoon, after all.”

  Peppa’s face slackened. She raised one arm and pointed behind Trep.

  He turned to see the most wondrous sight he could have imagined. In the far distance, land stretched across the entire horizon.

  “It’s the Land of Vines,” Trep said. “We’ve found it!”

  Peppa’s voice trembled. “But look what comes with it.”

  Trep’s excitement diminished because he realized it wasn’t just land he saw. Looking closer, he saw a heavy band of clouds hovering above the land, making it difficult to see the distinction between earth and sky.

  “There’s another storm coming,” he said, holding on tighter to the slumbering dragon in his arms.

  CHAPTER 47

  Idiots!

  Mandulane thought about the men who died at the hand of Drageen.

  Allowing themselves to be shot by his arrows. Letting themselves be impaled to the ship without any effort at all to free themselves.

  Mandulane shook his head in disgust. Good men were so hard to find these days.

  Surely, once he succeeded in conquering the Northlands things would improve. After all, Northlander men were legendary for their might and ferocity. Much better to convince them to fight along his side. But based on what he heard, Mandulane suspected it might be necessary to kill every Northlander he encountered.

  After defeating Drageen in this morning’s unexpected battle and stealing his ship, Mandulane sailed across calm seas whose waters threatened to blind him because they reflected the brilliance of the sun.

  Suddenly, a shadow fell over Mandulane’s stolen Northlander vessel. Looking up, he heaved a sigh of relief to see a band of dark clouds hiding the sun. With luck, they’d bring rain. He’d been parched all afternoon and found few supplies here on board the Scalding’s ship. He suspected Drageen simply planned to sail to the Southern coast, never dreaming he’d be intercepted by Mandulane and his soldiers.

  Mandulane’s eyes adjusted to the dim light and realized the Midlander coast and his camp were in sight. Sighing in relief, he checked the sail and eyeballed the course to make sure it would carry him home. Once satisfied, Mandulane scoured the ship once more, even going below deck in search of food or water with no luck. Frustrated,
he decided to conserve his energy by lying down on a blanket to rest his eyes for a while.

  Sometime later, a strange thumping sound from the deck above startled Mandulane out of a deep sleep. Disoriented, several minutes passed before he remembered where he was and what had happened. Another thump made him scramble back upstairs to investigate.

  Mandulane set foot on deck, and a flaming arrow hissed past, barely missing his head. It pierced only the air, sailing over the ship’s rail and into the sea below. A few other flaming arrows landed on deck, and Mandulane scrambled to each one, stomping out the flames before they could do irreparable damage.

  “No!” Mandulane screamed. Spinning around, he saw the Midlander coast, his camp, and a few dozen of his Krystr soldiers lined up at the port, armed with bows and aiming arrows at the ship he’d so proudly captured earlier today.

  The ship!

  He realized the problem with a start.

  They assume I’m the enemy!

  He ran toward the rail, waving his arms wildly. “Hold your fire!”

  But a new volley of arrows arced brightly through the clouded sky toward him. Shrieking, Mandulane ducked behind the rail, horrified to hear arrows hiss overhead. However, the arrows had been poorly aimed, and they all arced over the ship and landed in the water.

  Shaken, Mandulane peered above the railing, assessing the situation. He estimated his distance from shore to be about the length of ten ships, an easy swim for most men.

  But Mandulane wasn’t like most men. Having grown up in a region far from the sea, he never learned how to swim. Looking down, he could tell by its murky color that the water ran deep here. Jumping from this vessel would mean certain death. He’d drown before anyone would have time to come and rescue him.

  But he had to save this ship. His prize. His brilliance. For that, he would have to push past his fear of being so close to the ship’s edge and the deadly sea below.