When the hallway ended, she motioned for them to turn left. Fes took a breath to steady his heart, but it did nothing to steady his nerves. So far, they had managed to make their way through the temple without getting caught, but the farther they went, and the longer they were here, the less likely that would remain the case. He anticipated encountering someone at any moment.
Doors lined this hallway, and he worried that behind any one of them, he might come across one of the fire mages. He could counter their magic, but how many of them could he counter? He didn’t have full control over his own abilities. He was working at it, trying to understand what it meant to be Deshazl and trying to understand what it meant to have a connection to dragons, but without an instructor, he was limited to fumbling along.
Jayell paused at one of the doors and leaned into him. “I think we need to check behind this one,” she whispered.
Her voice barely carried to him, and he squeezed the hilt of his dagger, debating whether to unsheathe it. The danger was in not being ready, rather than being overly prepared.
When she took the handle, the door didn’t open. “It’s locked,” she whispered.
Fes pulled his dagger free from its sheath and pressed the blade into the lock. Were it any other type of blade, he might worry about breaking it or even dulling it, but dragonglass was practically indestructible. He’d cut through countless things that any other knife would’ve failed with. It was one of the benefits of dragonglass daggers and part of the reason he prized them as much as he did.
After working in the lock, wiggling it, the door failed to pop open.
“You’re going to have to try,” he said.
“I might draw attention to us.”
“I didn’t realize they could detect another fire mage using dragon relics.”
“Not usually. There are mages here who are far more skilled than anywhere else.”
“You just want to see whether I can do it,” he said.
She grinned at him. “I don’t have any doubt in your ability.”
Fes turned his attention back to the dagger. “I do.”
It was only his magic that he doubted. His other skills—that which involved fighting or recovering artifacts—he had practiced over the years and felt quite confident about using. Since learning of his connection to a people that had been thought long dead, Fes didn’t have that same confidence. There were times when magic didn’t work for him quite as well as he knew that it should. His magic didn’t rely on dragon relics, not the way that the fire mages did. They needed power that came from remnants stored within those ancient artifacts, power that had once burned within the dragons themselves.
He slipped the dagger back into the lock and allowed himself to feel the seething power within him. It burned softly, deep within him, and he had discovered the key to pulling it out involved allowing himself to find the anger deep within him. It was always there, a relic of his own problems and everything that he’d lost. It coursed through him and out through the dagger.
With a soft crack, the lock popped.
Fes squeezed the dagger and pushed the door open. His heart was hammering now. At any moment, he expected fire mages to appear, and there was a limit to how much of an attack he could withstand. So far, Fes didn’t know the limits of his abilities, only that there had to be some. There were always limitations when it came to power.
The room was empty.
“Are you sure this was the right—”
Heat built behind him and Fes spun, daggers slashing in front of him, cutting through the fire mage’s spell without even knowing what it was. It happened instinctively, lashing out at the magic to avoid it reaching him.
The fire mage standing at the end of the hallway was an older man. His graying hair had been slicked back from his head, and bushy eyebrows sprang forth, almost alive. He held a length of bone pointed at Fes, and Fes could feel the way the spell coursed out from the bone, directed at him.
“Go, see if it’s there,” he hissed at Jayell.
“Are you sure you don’t need my help?”
He shook his head, keeping his focus on the fire mage. At least it was only one. He figured he could handle one, but it was that more than one might appear that made him worry. Could this be the fire mage that he had detected sending the powerful spell?
If he encountered a mage like that—one like Elizabeth or even Reina—Fes wasn’t sure that he would be able to handle suppressing that kind of magic. There was only so much that he could try.
The fire mage watched him, the spell building through him one that came with considerable power. Fes had been around enough fire mages—especially recently—to know the type of spell that was coming.
It exploded from him, a fireball coursing toward Fes, orange and red and filled with incredible power.
He stood in front of the fireball, unmindful of how much power was coming his way. He brought his daggers up and slashed at the fireball as it exploded.
It split off on either side of him, smashing into the stone. Debris rained around him, and the mage stared at Fes as if he were some sort of creature he’d never seen before.
Fes didn’t give him a chance to stare for too long. He ran at the fire mage, reaching him before he had a chance to erupt with another spell, and caught him with the hilt of his daggers on the back of his neck, dropping the mage to the ground. Killing the fire mage would only bring more attacks his way.
He turned his attention back to the empty door where Jayell had disappeared. Fes dragged the fallen fire mage with him. It wouldn’t do for someone to come across the old man lying in the middle of the hallway, and they could keep better track of him in the room and would at least be alerted if he were to wake up.
When he reached her, she looked up, pointing a curved dragon claw at him before lowering it.
“Is it here?” he asked.
“I haven’t found anything,” she said. She stood in front of a row of shelves, and on the shelves were dozens upon dozens of boxes. She held one tipped toward her and resumed sorting through it. Every so often, she would stuff something into her pocket before turning her attention back to the box again.
“It looks as if you’ve found a few things,” Fes said.
“A few, but not nearly as many as I had expected.”
“You’ve already said that not all these artifacts will work for you.”
She nodded, hurriedly sorting through more of the crates. “You could look for others,” she said.
Fes scanned the row of shelves. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“You can start by looking the same way I am,” she said.
This was a dangerous risk, and he should have known better than to risk themselves like this, but if they were successful, if they could find a collection of dragon relics that would work for Jayell, they would finally be able to work on the next steps in their plan.
Fes sorted through the bins, searching for anything that he thought might come from the dragon fields, any way of detecting whether Azithan had been truthful with him. He came across nothing. The bins all held smaller relics. Many were claws or teeth, and some of them were little more than bones that had to have come from fingers. None of them contained longer bones.
It was a wealth of relics, enough for Jayell to replenish her stores of power.
But it wasn’t what he wanted to find.
Fes needed to know if Azithan had been telling him the truth.
“I don’t think this is the right storeroom,” he said.
Jayell paused, pushing the bin she’d been looking at back into place. “If it’s not here, then I don’t know where else to look.”
Fes looked over at the fallen fire mage. “I think we have to ask him.”
Chapter Two
When the fire mage came around, Fes kept the tip of his dagger pressed into the man’s neck, avoiding drawing blood, but he wanted to keep the mage from calling out. They had separated him from all of the dragon relics he might h
ave on him, but even that might not be enough. Proximity to the rest of these relics might be enough for him to use, though Fes didn’t know whether that was necessary or not.
“Who are you?” the man hissed when he came around.
Fes shook his head. “That’s not how this is going to go.”
His eyes narrowed as he stared at Fes, and heat began to build.
Fes pressed with more force into the man’s neck. “I can tell when you are attempting a spell,” he said. “And it would be in your best interest to avoid irritating me by trying to attack me. My hands tend to get a little slippery when I’m nervous.”
The fire mage took a shallow breath and the heat faded.
Fes hadn’t been sure that it was him. It could have been Jayell, and he was thankful that it hadn’t been. He needed that threat to be effective against the man, and if he believed that Fes could feel him using magic, he might be more inclined to share.
“Now. We’re looking for a collection of relics that might have recently been acquired.”
“Are you a fire mage?” he asked.
“Let’s just say that I’m interested in relics,” Fes said.
“You can’t sell them. If that’s what you’re after…”
Did he look so much like a thief that the fire mage would immediately jump to the conclusion that he would sell the relics? Fes wouldn’t be opposed to doing so, and he certainly had experience in collecting relics that he would turn around and sell, but this mage had jumped to that conclusion.
“Have others attempted to break in here and steal relics?”
“You wouldn’t be the first to try. You might be the first who has a particular ability to detect magic, though I imagine that has something to do with the dragonglass dagger you are holding up to my neck.”
“Good, I’m happy that you recognize that I’m holding a dragonglass dagger. Now. Answer the question.”
The fire mage looked past Fes and seemed to see Jayell. His eyes narrowed as his gaze settled on her. “You were a student here.”
Jayell didn’t move.
“I remember you. You had some talent, but you abandoned your training. Interesting. And now you come with a thief?” He shifted his gaze so that he could look at Fes. “You are the first who was foolish enough to bring a previous mage into the temple.”
“She’s not a previous mage.”
“She’s not a current mage, either.”
“If you want to continue to harass her, you certainly can, but that’s not going to change the question. I need to know if you have recently brought in a large collection of artifacts.”
“We get relics all of the time. We are the foremost experts in dragon relics.”
Fes grunted. “I think there would be a few Priests of the Flame who would challenge that.”
“Priests?” the mage spat. “The priests are fools. They don’t understand the power of the dragon relics. Not nearly as much as they believe that they do.”
“The priests have a different appreciation for them than what I’ve seen from fire mages,” Fes said. “Now. Back to the question.”
The fire mage glared at Fes, leaning toward the dagger, forcing Fes to relax his pressure. The fire mage grinned. “See? I knew that you didn’t have any intention of really harming me. If you did, you would have done so by now.”
“He’s not going to tell us anything,” Jayell whispered.
“We haven’t given him enough incentive to do so,” Fes said.
“Incentive? What do you believe that you can do that will incentivize me to share anything with you?”
Fes reached his free hand over his shoulder and unsheathed the long dragonglass sword that he had stolen from Jaken. He rested it on his knees, and the priest glanced down at it, his eyes going wide.
“I take it that you recognize a sword like this?”
“You aren’t with the Dragon Guard,” the priest said.
“No. I’m not. But I took it from one of the Dragon Guard, and someone willing to do something as foolish as that might be foolish enough to attack a fire mage. Possibly kill them. Especially if that fire mage decides to withhold information that person needs.”
“There isn’t a market for what you seek. You can’t sell it, and even if you could—”
Fes leaned forward, no longer pressing with the dagger but holding his hand on the sword. It wasn’t nearly as reassuring as holding onto his daggers, but there was a heft—a weight that was more than simply the mass of the blade—that he appreciated when holding on to it.
“Why do you keep thinking I intend to sell something? You’ve seen that I come in here with a fire mage, so why would I need to unload anything I might acquire?”
“She’s not a fire mage,” the man said.
“We should go,” Jayell whispered.
“Not until we figure out where they have kept the items,” Fes said.
“What if they don’t have any?”
He sighed, leaning back. It was possible the fire mages didn’t have anything other than what was in the storerooms. Maybe Azithan had been telling the truth, though Fes found that to be less likely. It wasn’t that he thought Azithan would lie to him—though it was possible—it was more that he had a hard time believing that Azithan had decided to keep something from the empire. If that were the case, then much of what he thought he had known and understood would be wrong.
“What you want to do with them?” he asked her.
“We can leave him.”
“Not like this,” Fes said, raising his dagger and preparing to strike the fire mage.
“We will find you,” the fire mage said. “I will understand what kind of spell you have gotten a hold of that allows you to detect fire magic being used. And I will personally make certain to hunt you down.”
Fes stared at him. “Don’t give me a reason to kill you.”
“I can see it in your eyes that you won’t,” the mage said.
“You wouldn’t be the first fire mage I’ve killed.”
And yet, he had no interest in hurting this man any more than was necessary. The threat of being followed, of being tracked down, was enough that Fes wondered if perhaps the most prudent course would be to just deal with him more definitively now. If he didn’t, then they ran the risk of having more fire mages chase them. Spending the last few months dealing with only the threat of one of the Dragon Guard and not a powerful fire mage had been a welcome reprieve.
“Go on,” Fes said to Jayell.
“What are you going to do?”
“It’s best that you don’t see.”
She glanced at the mage before nodding and heading out to stand just on the other side of the door.
Fes glared at the fire mage. “She’s been around me enough to know that I will have no qualms in ending your life.”
“But you don’t intend to?”
“I haven’t decided what I intend to do,” Fes said.
“I’ve already told you what will happen if you leave me alive,” he said.
“I’m aware that you claim to hunt me, just as I’m aware that your ability to find me would not be nearly as impressive as what you think it would be.”
“You’ve already shared with me enough. I know that you have attacked and stolen from one of the Dragon Guard. I don’t need to know anything more than that. You will be quite easy to find.”
There might be a way to use this fire mage and his determination to chase Fes, but it would require that he mislead Jayell. He didn’t like the idea of doing that, but seeing as how he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the threat of the fire mages—and the temple—he didn’t know how much he should worry.
Fes leaned close and whispered in the fire mage’s ear, “Come find me, then.”
He slammed the hilt of his dagger into the back of the man’s neck, and he crumpled. When he fell, Fes lightly grazed the dagger across the man’s neck, leaving a trail of faint blood.
He stood and pulled the door open, wide enough that
Jayell could see beyond him and into the room, and her jaw clenched slightly when she saw the fallen mage. Fes didn’t have to wonder whether or not she would see the trail of blood along the mage’s neck.
“It’s done,” he said.
She nodded, and they started out, heading back down the way they had come. At one point, Fes caught her arm, feeling a powerful spell wash over him. He did nothing to cut through it. If he did, it would draw attention to their presence.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, he froze. Jayell pushed up against him and leaned toward him. “What’s the—”
She never had a chance to finish.
Standing in front of them were three fire mages.
Each of them held a dragon relic, and each of them had a spell building.
Fes jammed his dagger into its sheath and reached for the sword as the first spell exploded. When it struck, he cut through it, splitting the force of it, deflecting it away from them so that the attack turned against the building itself. The other mages watched, seeming to realize that Fes was the danger, and sent separate attacks.
He couldn’t tell what type of spell they used, only that it was powerful and it pushed against him, slamming into him with incredible force. As it did, he held his sword out, pressing it against the flow of the spell and slicing downward. The spell split in half, gliding away from them.
Fes lunged forward and jabbed the nearest fire mage in the belly. The man crumpled. It was unlikely that he was dead; he’d seen fire mages recover from wounds that would kill anyone else. He moved on to the next fire mage. This one pointed what appeared to be a dragon fang at him, and power exploded from it.
“Didn’t you see what I already did?” Fes asked as he slashed at the spell.
The mage ignored him and sent another spell, quickly managing to recover from the fact that Fes didn’t struggle against his magic.
He kicked, slamming his heel into the mage’s knee, and the man dropped to the ground. Fes turned toward the last remaining fire mage. This man stood in front of him, his palm open.
Dragon Rise (The Dragonwalker Book 3) Page 2