The roll of yellowing paper looked old. Faded ink crossed it like spider web. I couldn’t even read what language it was in. “What am I looking at?” I asked.
Merik snapped his fingers. “That is the script of Zholar. In fact, it is a copy of a fragment of a letter sent by a Zholar merchant to his lord—sent long ago in the time of the first Dragon Riders.”
I glanced at Merik. “What does it say? Weather’s fine, the food it terrible, I wish you were here?”
“Ha, no. The Zholar merchant was trying to impress his lord, and so it details the fabulous Dragon Riders he saw and their dragons, as well as strange stones he called magic eggs.”
“The Dragon Stones?” I glanced at the writing and wished I was as clever as Merik and could read far better than I did. I had trouble reading just one language.
Merik opened the scroll. I was almost afraid it would fall into dust, but Merik didn’t seem worried. “He writes that a white one seemed to glow like moonlight.”
“The Healing Stone—the one that Commander Hegarty has,” I said.
“Another was black, about the size of a man’s hand, and gave protection—that’s the Armor Stone.”
“Great! A description at last.”
“That is not the most interesting thing—this merchant seems to suggest the stones can call to each other, or they’re connected with each other.”
“What?” I looked at him in confusion.
Sitting down on the edge of his bed, Merik shrugged. “It’s…well, the writing is difficult to make out in spots. But there’s mention of how he saw a group of people gathering and that all had been touched by the magic.”
“Touched? What, like they were now in a special club?”
“I don’t know. But it’s clear that the stones weren’t secret like they are now. The way this guy writes, I think everyone knew about them and thought they were special, so anyone who came into contact with them also become special—revered even. History is full of weird things like that. You wouldn’t believe what other people used to believe.”
In a way, it sounded like the way we kept the dragons together in the enclosure. And a little like how my dragon affinity worked better when I was near Kalax. And Thea…her dragon affinity worked better when she was near me.
I plucked at my lower lip.
Were we all connected? The dragon affinity…the stones…did the stones allow dragons and people to work together somehow? But I’d never had a stone used on me—that wasn’t where my dragon affinity came from. Or was it?
“Hello! Seb?” Merik waved his hand in front of my face. “I lost you there.”
“I was just thinking that maybe they knew things about the dragons that we have forgotten. And the stones too. Maybe the way people and dragons get on with each other, what if it’s tied to the Dragon Stones? What if my dragon affinity is getting stronger because the stones are turning up again? And maybe Thea…” I let the words trail…Thea what?
Merik frowned. “What are you suggesting? That somehow we’re fated to find the stones? That this is our destiny or something? Or that now the Darkening is rising, that’s waking up the stones? Maybe making them choose people the way dragons choose riders?”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “It’s just that life…well, doesn’t it feels a little like everything is about to spiral out of control at any moment. Maybe we’re picking up on the distress the dragons are feeling, or maybe the Darkening is spreading that feeling through the stones to confuse us.”
Merik stared at me. “Kind of the way the Memory Stone can take someone’s memory—leave them blank so the Darkening can control them?”
I let out a breath.
If this was true…well, Thea had had more contact with both Lord Vincent and the stones. She had been acting strange ever since she had been healed—it was as if she was always more angry, or more easily upset, or was trying to be braver and fiercer than anyone. Now it was like she was being compelled to find the Armor Stone. She couldn’t let go of that idea.
I didn’t like where that idea was headed, because it meant Thea might not really be Thea anymore.
*
It was still early when I left the academy with Thea. The sky was graying with early dawn and the sun was a touch of gold along the ridgeline of Dragon Mountain. Thea and I made our way up to the dragon enclosure, which was really a large crater. Walking behind me, Thea seemed lost in thought as she so often was these days. After talking to Merik, I was worried that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to find these Dragon Stones. But if we didn’t find them, Lord Vincent might, and he could use them to bring the Darkening to power. There didn’t seem to be any good choices.
At the lip of the enclosure, I could see down into the wide, tiered crater with the caves where the dragons nested. Kalax rested on a ledge in front of her cave, her red hue almost blending with the rocks.
Behind me, Thea hitched up the harness and saddle she was carrying. As Dragon Riders we could leave the academy when we wanted to, for the most part. But if we were gone for a long time, there would be questions to answer. I wanted to leave early and be back soon.
A low, throaty moan split the air, and I froze. That had definitely come from a dragon, but it was unlike any sound I’d heard them make. I opened my mind to the dragons and sensed an unease.
“Seb?” Thea asked. She nudged me with an elbow. “What is it?”
“I think—something might be wrong.” I gripped my own saddle and harness tight, and quickened my steps. We headed down along narrow goat trails that led into the enclosure.
Most of the dragons were still asleep. A few were out sunning themselves on the warm slabs of rock at the bottom of the enclosure, soaking up the heat of the hot springs below the earth.
“Erufon,” I whispered, pointing to where the vast bulk of golden scales spread out on one of the stones. I held my breath, worried for a moment, before I saw his sides heave up and down with the deep breathing of sleep. But something else was bothering me. Reached out with all of my senses, I felt what seemed to be something hovering over Erufon.
A shadow fell over us. Looking up, I saw that Kalax had come down to land on the rock next to us. She purred at us in her throaty voice. She knew we would be flying today.
Reaching up to touch her nose, I asked, “What’s wrong with Erufon, Kalax?”
Beside me, Thea dropped her saddle and stared at me. I could still sense something odd about Erufon—there was something wrong with his belly.
Bad fish, Kalax thought at me. I was inclined to agree.
I said the same to Thea and told her, “We’ll have to tell the commander about Erufon when we get back.” Kalax dropped her shoulder to allow us to attach the saddles. On the other side of the enclosure, Erufon turned over onto his side and opened a lazy eye to stare at us.
“Is he going to be alright?” Thea asked.
“I think so.” I cast my mind over Erufon once again, and could find nothing else wrong except for that vague discomfort. “Maybe he’s not used to the simple, wild food they have here,” I said. I whistled to Kalax, who stuck her head up and gave back a rumble.
The Leviathan Mountains. “Yep, that’s it Kalax—that’s where we’re going.”
*
The Leviathan Mountains ran down the world like a scar. On one side, extending right down past the end, stood the Middle Kingdom of Torvald. Beyond the mountains lay the southern reaches, the pirate islands, the archipelago, and the hot and burnt lands. On the north-western side of the mountains, the wild lands stretched out, home to bandits, tribes, and the fierce, wild black dragons that raided our crops and fields every summer.
They were the largest mountains in the world, or so Merik had told me, and he would know. The foothills spread out for leagues. The mountain-tops were almost always dusted with snow, and a bluish haze spread out from the constant cooling winds that came off the hills.
Kalax did a flyover of the full range, and then we headed to the highest, sharp
est, conical peak. To one side stood Winter’s Pass, a deep cut that was one of the only routes for wagons and caravans. It looked a natural site for a battle. Large armies could have met in the pass, and dragons could have found shelter on the slopes or up in the sky.
I tried to imagine what it must have been like back in the time of heroes, when the sky was split by flights of dragons, the peal of their war-horns, their banners fluttering in the air above, and the Darkening forces rising up, only to be struck down by the Dragon Riders and the Dragon Stones.
Behind me, I heard Thea laugh. I looked back to see her spread her arms out, and I knew she was feeling the same thing I was. To fly like the heroes of legend, deep down that was what every Dragon Rider longed for.
Kalax, too, seemed to be enjoying herself. She called to the winds and soared over the mountains below, her head twisting as she scanned the landscape. We could make out the occasional shepherd’s hut. Flocks of hardy sheep scattered, terrified, over the green grass as Kalax flew over them.
Mutton, Kalax thought at me. She tasted the air with her tongue, then caught the warm updrafts that buffeted the side of a mountain, using them to fly even higher. The air started to get colder, to burn my lungs and sting my cheeks, but I wasn’t afraid. Kalax knew what she was doing. And dragons have wild hearts that need the open sky.
Flying up even higher, it seemed as if I could see to the very ends of the earth. I pulled in a ragged breath. We were almost level with the highest, icicle-sharp peak. Before long, my head started to spin. Ice caked Kalax’s wings. She screeched a triumphant call at the top of the world and dove downwards. The ice patches shattered from her wings, flying behind us in a dazzling, crystal haze. The wind caught at my face, pulling at my helmets and goggles, rattling and pulling on my jacket as we swept like a bolt of lightning toward the sloping mountains.
“The battle between the Dragon Riders of old and the Darkening must have been fought here,” Thea shouted.
I shrugged. I hadn’t grown up hearing all the old stories that she had. I knew most of them now, but to me, it just looked like lots of rocks and snow and more rocks. I couldn’t help but think some of those old stories had been made up. How could anyone find anything here? And why hadn’t someone been here to search before now? But I knew the answer to that—the only way to reach this spot was by dragon. There was no way to climb up, and no way to climb down from the top of the peak, even if you could get there to start with. This one spot seemed surrounded by sheer drops.
Leaning over to one side on Kalax, Thea kept scanning the mountain as if she knew just what she was looking for. She swung out an arm, pointed and waved at one slightly flatter set of rocks that looked almost like giants. “Goblin Rocks. My family has an old painting of the battle, and it was said to have ended here.”
That was as good as any place to start. I steered Kalax to the site, which was like a low cliff, its walls like fingers of rock sticking up. If you squinted and were wearing goggles, they did look a little like goblins peering down the slopes. It was also sheltered from the cold wind, and one of the few places on the mountain where you could hold a duel—as the legends said had happened.
Kalax circled the site and dropped down onto the cliff.
“Thank you, Kalax.” I unclipped my harness and dismounted. Pulling one of the meat pies from my bag, I threw it to Kalax. She snapped it up and tipped her head to one side, asking for more. I shook my head.
Thea had already jumped down, and was lifting her pack off the back of her saddle. She’d had the sense to bring a few tools—a pick and a trowel. “Right, we’d better get started then,” she said.
The ground looked as though it had been used by wild dragons—only dragon claws could dig that deep into rock, leaving deep ruts. Old sheep bones, a horse’s skull, and a collection of scales, half burnished, lay scattered over the uneven rock as well. All signs of dragons. No wonder everyone left this spot alone—wild dragons usually didn’t eat people, but they had been known to defend their territory. Often that meant picking someone up and dropping them back onto the ground from a great height.
Kalax sniffed the air and I could sense she was on alert, but she was also certain the site hadn’t been used recently.
After a few hours of searching and finding nothing but rocks, Thea crouched down. Her voice lifted with excitement. “Seb! Look!”
I turned to see her pull up a rusted lump of metal. It was worn by time, but you could still make out faint designs of whorls and lines. This wasn’t a naturally occurring metal. I took it from her. “It’s an axe head. But any wild man could have dropped this up here.” I ran my thumb over the blade and wondered what smithy had made it. I also pointed to the marks on the blade. “It was well-made at one time.” Sunlight glinted on the dull metal. I bent down and found a rusted shard with the shape of an arrow point. Before long we even found a scrap of metal from a ruined breastplate.
But no Armor Stone—nothing that even came close to a dragon’s egg.
Thea kicked at a rock. It didn’t move. “Okay, so a battle was fought here. But the legend said that the king offered a duel, and it was the power of the Armor Stone that saved his life.” She huffed out a breath. “It’s just…I don’t feel it’s here.” She looked at me, her mouth pulled down and a hard expression in her eyes, almost as if she was daring me not to believe her. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Well, you’re the one who wanted to come here.” I kicked at the dirt and a faintly irregular black stone tumbled free. Grabbing it, I saw it had a crack on one side and was slightly larger than any dragon’s egg that I’d ever seen. “What about this?”
“Too big, isn’t it?” Thea pointed to where similar bits of black obsidian lay. “That looks like the other rock you can find here.”
Large and small bits of the shiny, black stone—some roughly egg-shaped and others no bigger than a thumbnail—littered the ground. I collected any that were both black and more or less egg-shaped, but I wasn’t sure I had found anything.
“What did the Healing Stone look like?” I asked. I was trying to think back to it myself. I remembered the light, spilling out of Commander Hegarty’s hands, and I remembered the tingle of power and energy that had flowing over me. “The light—it was so bright it blinded me. I don’t even remember its outline. The Memory Stone—all I remember about that was that Lord Vincent wore it around his neck on a chain.”
Thea turned away and mumbled, “Don’t know.”
“You didn’t see the Healing Stone at all?”
“I said no,” she snapped, her voice flat. She sounded so lost. She also shivered.
Looking up, I saw that we’d been here most of the day. Striding back to where Kalax sat in the sun, trying to catch any warmth, I told her, “Come on. Let’s go.”
I couldn’t help but feel this had been a wasted journey.
We flew back in silence, my saddle-bags full of clinking, egg-shaped rocks.
*
Chapter 6:
The Fight
“They’re just a big old bunch of rocks!” I looked at Seb and then at Merik and finally at Varla.
Seb and I had returned from the Leviathan Mountains cold and tired. I wasn’t hungry, but Seb brought me up a hot drink from the kitchen. I hadn’t wanted it, but once I had it in my hands, I’d drunk it down. I had hoped that Merik and Varla would at least return from Wynchwood with better news. But they’d brought back their own collection of cracked, worn, and roughened black stones even more useless than Seb’s collection.
We’d gathered in my room—boys weren’t supposed to be here, but Matron wouldn’t do a room check until after dinner. Varla had pulled in a low table from another room, and everyone had spread out their rocks.
Nothing on the low table looked like any kind of stone of power.
Seb’s rocks looked like they’d come out of a volcano at some point—they were rough and sharp-edged. Merik and Varla’s rocks looked like darkened river rocks—they were smooth and looked mor
e like what I thought the Armor Stone should look like, but nothing…nothing felt right.
Seb stared at me, his arms folded across his chest. “How do you know? How do any of us know what the Armor Stone is going to look like?”
Getting up, I stared out the window. How could I tell him I was certain I’d know it the instant I saw it? Why did I even think that? I bit my lip. It was like with Seb and his dragon affinity—it was just something he knew how to do. No one had taught him. I felt like I’d recognize the Armor Stone. Perhaps I was just fooling myself. But I’d seen and touched the Memory Stone—I’d had the Healing Stone used on me to save my life. Those weren’t things you ever forgot.
I cleared my throat and turned to face Seb—and the others. They were all looking at me with worried frowns. “There’s a feeling. Like…well, like I get whenever I remember what happened. I’ve been getting that same feeling whenever I see Commander Hegarty—so I think it must be from his connection to the Healing Stone. And maybe also the Memory Stone that we took from Lord Vincent.”
An image flashed—a pale face flashing above mine: empty, dark eyes, a mouth pulled down and tight.
I shook my head and pushed it away. I didn’t want to think about Lord Vincent or that awful sensation of falling into darkness I’d had after he’d struck me down. Blinking, I focused again on Seb, Varla, and Merik.
Merik stood with his shoulders against the door, looking serious. Seb had his legs braced wide and his arms crossed. Varla sat cross-legged on her bed, her braid pulled over one shoulder. All of them looked worried for me—and I hated that.
Don’t feel sorry for me!
Annoyance flash through me. I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t crazy. “Stop it,” I said and stared at them. “Stop thinking I’m making this up.”
Seb let his arms drop to his sides. “Thea, I think you’re right. I think that there is something about the stones.” He nodded at Merik, and told me about the old scroll Merik had found.
“So…they used to keep all of the people who had used a Dragon Stone together? Like they were—special?” I asked.
Dragon Legends (Return of the Darkening Book 2) Page 5