Dragon Legends (Return of the Darkening Book 2)

by Ava Richardson

  He shook his head. “Wait till we get these back. We’ll clean them up and have a proper look. You know, any one of these might be it.”

  I spread my hands wide. “How much further could this wandering monk have gone? Miles? What about sailing? For all we know, the stone could be at the bottom of the ocean or in a lake or river.” Heat warmed my face. “If we spent more time training instead of running around like this, we might be in a better position to defeat the Darkening when it comes.”

  Seb opened his mouth, closed it, and said, “What if we have to have all of the Dragon Stones? All of them. You know the stories better than I do. It was only with all the stones that the Dragon Riders were able to fight back the Darkening.”

  “Stories.” I stomped my boots and rubbed my arms. It was getting cold. I turning back to where Kalax was sniffing the air. “We don’t even know if they’re true.” Pushing out a breath, I told him, “We’ve only a few hours left. And we have one more ruin on the coast.”

  I heard the crunch of Seb’s boots on the ground, and then he muttered, “I’ve never been to the coast.”

  I could hear excitement in his voice and wished I could feel some of that, too.

  With a grunt, I mounted Kalax. Seb climbed into his saddle and she jumped into the sky, flying west toward a hazy glimmer of gray and blue.

  *

  Kalax gave a roar as we skimmed over the ocean. Kalax was pretty much flying herself, as Seb looked like he was locked into open-mouthed wonder at the sight of that much water. He hadn’t been kidding when he had said that he had never seen the coast. I had been here, but I had never seen the water from this high up—it was like looking at it for the first time.

  The Middle Kingdom only had a small patch of access to the shore. North of here, the shore became wilder, broken and mired in the tribal lands. But we had one port and I could see the bay and the bright gold and red banners of the town. Further south and east from here, I knew the shore grew rangier and wild again—as well as hotter, and the Southern Realm ruled that coast.

  Seb pointed to the south and shouted, “The Southern Realm—that’s the map I saw on the commander’s desk. I think he was looking for dragons!”

  I shook my head. Of course there were dragons down there. There were dragons everywhere. I was about to make that point when Seb waved at the far side of the bay, opposite the port. I could see the faint white stones of more ruins. “That must be it!” Seb shouted.

  I looked up at the sky. It was well past mid-day. We’d have to make this last stop fast so we could get back and not earn any more marks against us.

  Kalax chose a water landing, raising her wings behind us. She settled into the water as smooth as any swan might and soon we stepped up on a rocky beach. The waves soaked my trousers, but I didn’t mind. Both the air and the water were warm.

  The stones here seemed to be much smaller in size, nowhere near as large as the others we’d seen, but still with dragon carvings cut into the stone. Like all the other sites, this one had egg-shaped stones littered around the ruins, but none of them seemed to be anything but an ordinary stone.

  Seb kicked aside dead wood and grit from the inside of the open-roofed chapel, and said, “I was followed again the other night.”

  I glanced at him. “Followed? Like that night in the Troll’s Head? Why didn’t you mention this before?” I said sharply.

  He shrugged. “I thought he was a drunk at first—but he fought like he knew what he was doing.”

  I stared at him. “A fight? I can’t believe it. You tried to fight him? Do you realize just how much trouble we’d be in if you’d been taken up for brawling?” Seb wasn’t the best fighter at the academy, but I had led him through enough drills to know he was no slouch. “Who do you think he was?” I asked.

  Seb kicked at another egg-shaped stone. “An agent of Lord Vincent? I don’t know. And you’re right—we should finish up and get back.”

  I nodded.

  This site was just the same as all of the others—more ruins. If Merik hadn’t lost his memory, or if we had more time, I would have liked to have spent the night here. But a cold lump had settled in my stomach. This wasn’t going to help us. We needed to become better fighters if we were ever going to defeat Lord Vincent and the Darkening.

  Seb told me he wanted one last look around the ruins for any hiding places. I shrugged and left him to it. Wandering out of the ruins, I headed down to the small beach, idly picking up stones, rolling them in my hand, and skipping them across the incoming tide.

  Kalax was splashing in the bay, upending and disappearing with a splash, only to spring up with a pleased trill and a large fish she’d gulp down. I stood up and headed over to what looked like the remains of a carved dragon—it was worn by time and the water. Stones seemed to have been put into the carving. I put a hand on the stone dragon.

  My stomach lurched as I thought of everything that was wrong right now. I wasn’t going to prove myself as a fighter. The Darkening was rising—and no one seemed to want to think about that. And my family wanted to pretend everything was normal. It seemed like there was nothing that I could do about anything.

  My head throbbed with a sharp headache. I put a hand over one of the stones on the carved dragon. This one was worn smooth—it was as round as any egg. Maybe rounder. It left me feeling a little calmer to have something solid under my hand. When I tugged, the stone easily came out of the carved dragon, leaving a hole where the stones had been used like scales. I put the stone with the others in my carry-sack, and turned to see Seb heading out of the ruins, his sack rattling with even more stones.

  “Any joy?” I asked.

  Seb shook his head. He lifted a hand as if he didn’t know what to say.

  I remembered how the Healing Stone had been blindingly bright as it unleashed waves of power. Wasn’t that what we were looking for?

  I dusting the sand from my trousers, which had dried. Kalax swept from the sea and landed near us.

  Pulling open his bag, Seb nodded to the stones he’d found. “I found these three tucked into what looked like a hiding place behind the door. We’ll take a look at them later.” He headed to Kalax, but she lifted her head and seemed to be looking at me expectantly.

  I didn’t say anything, but Kalax barked out a small, sharp sound.

  What? I thought back at her. So I found a rock—just like all of the other useless ones. It’ll only get him even more depressed to show him that it’s another nothing-stone.

  Catching up with Seb, I punched his arm. “Let’s get in some maneuvers on the way back, so we can at least honestly report we’ve done drills.”

  Kalax trilled a much more excited call. She liked flying and thought most of our talk was boring and useless. I was starting to agree with her as I snapped on my harness, the heavy weight of the stones on my hip.

  *

  “Thea!” Seb’s voice pulled me out of staring at the ground. A note of panic in his voice snapped me alert.

  We were heading back to the academy and the bulk of Dragon Mountain and the terraced city of Torvald were clearly visible. “What is it?” I scanned the horizon for the dark, sinuous shapes of attacking raider-dragons. Had Seb seen the wild, black dragons of the Darkening?

  He pointed ahead of us and shouted, “Look at the flags.”

  I was no navigator, but that splash of orange, yellow and gold meant watchful readiness. “Those are the same colors they use for patrols.” I said.

  “And for important visits. Announcements. Something’s happening,” Seb called back. Leaning forward, he urged Kalax into ever greater speed.

  I clenched my back teeth in frustration. Something important was happening and we might have missed it. “What is it? Is it Erufon? A royal visit?” I said my voice tight.

  “I don’t think so,” Seb called out. “No Dragon Horns. But there is something odd going on.”

  Kalax’s thought bust into my mind. Dragons gone. I could tell she’d thought the words at both of us,
sharing with us the fact that the air smelled of much less dragon scent than usual, as if half of them had vanished.

  “Kalax, you clever girl, you’re right. Look, Thea—we’re the only dragons in the sky,” Seb shouted.

  For Torvald and Dragon Mountain, the home of the dragons and the Dragon Riders, it was unheard of to only have one team of riders in the sky. There was no storm coming in, no strong winds or hail or snow. Just—no dragons.

  At least we have the best choice of landing platforms, I thought, trying to not think about dragons wouldn’t be here. Had they been called to war?

  Kalax trilled a high, shrieking call. A few calls came back from the academy and then more from the enclosure. Seb’s shoulders visibly relaxed ahead of me. And I let out a breath. There were still some dragons around, then.

  “It’s just the squadrons.” I said.

  Kalax bellowed again, flapping her huge wings as she chose the largest platform for landing. I was the first to unhitch myself and hit the wooden boards of the platform. Seb dismounted and started to unharness Kalax.

  I saw Commander Hegarty, so I ran down from the landing platform and asked, “Sir, where is everyone?”

  He looked distracted, as if he had half a dozen other things on his mind. He waited for Seb to join us before he nodded and said, “We’ve had orders from Prince Justin to mobilize for a special training mission.” The commander’s stare slid away, and it felt to me as if he was holding something back.

  Why don’t you trust us? I almost blurted out the words, but a gentle nudge on the side of my boot stopped me. I glanced at Seb and he frowned and lifted his eyebrows high. I sucked in a breath, held my words and looked back at the commander.

  He shook his head quickly, briefly, before staring at nothing again. Was that the Memory Stone working on him? His words even seemed a little vague. “Didn’t want to leave the academy entirely defenseless. You two, Jensen and Will, Varla and Merik and the support staff will keep an eye on things.”

  “But, sir, you know we’re some of the best riders. If you run into any trouble out there, you’re going to need us.”

  “Flamma,” the commander’s tone sharpened. “We will not ‘run into any trouble’ as you so eloquently put it. This is training. The fact that you are good riders—despite your current rankings—means the academy is in good hands, understood?” He looked at me with one eyebrow arched.

  I could only nod. I still felt stupid, and useless. How were we supposed to prove our worth by staring at an empty building?

  Seb straightened as if he’d been put in charge of the whole city. “The academy will be safe in our hands, Commander, you can be sure of that.”

  “Never doubted it, Smith. Now—there is one other thing. There’s a little cabin out in Tabbit’s Hollow, you know the place?” the commander said.

  “Is that the wood on the far side of Dragon Mountain?” Seb asked.

  “A little bit beyond, but yes. From the sky, it’s shaped like a leaping hare. I also want you to keep an eye on that place at night while I’m away.” He smoothed his mustache.

  Seb glanced at me. I could see he was as confused by this order as I was. Why would the commander want a cabin watched? And why not assign soldiers to this? The guards could do better at this than us. “Uh, do you mean we—?”

  “You have your orders. I’m already late to meet with the prince. Just see who comes and goes and what happens. Don’t get too close, and report back only to me, understood?” He nodded our dismissal.

  Before we could answer, Commander Hegarty was already striding away from us. I turned to Seb. “What do you think that was all about?” I watched the ramrod-straight back of the commander disappear into the armory.

  “I think that was the commander telling us that he can’t tell us what’s going on, so he gave us a clue.” Seb faced me and dropped his voice. “This cabin—and who or what goes in and out, I bet it has something to do with Lord Vincent or the Darkening.”

  Or maybe the Memory Stone.

  I nodded and followed Seb to the equipment shed to put away our saddles. It would be a small group in the keep tonight for dinner, I knew. I thought about how—with almost everyone gone—we might be able to sneak into the commander’s rooms again. But if one search hadn’t turned up the Memory Stone, a second one seemed even less likely to give us any answers. And Instructor Mordecai wouldn’t be flying out with the others—he would still be here, watching us.

  The Dragon Horns blew to announce the end of day—and the evening meal in the keep. Before we headed there, I glanced at the ranking board—our names were at the bottom of the Green Flags list.

  Shoulders slumping, now I knew why the commander had told us to stay here.

  But were the others really going off on a training mission—or something far more dangerous?

  *

  Chapter 11:

  The Cabin in the Woods

  Thea sick.

  Kalax thought the words at me, and I nodded and yawned.

  It was just before nightfall on the following day, and it was my job to check the outer gates. The last day had been spent like this, with those of us left at the academy trying to cover all the tasks. I turned and waved to Jensen that the gates were locked. His lantern bobbed that he had received the message. I walked on, my boots crunching on gravel, and headed to the next gate.

  Kalax was right. There was something wrong with Thea.

  I’d come to believe that dragons had a sophisticated interior language—different means came from slight variations in emphasis in the feelings sent out and the images that could be sent. Kalax had used the idea of sick, but to me it felt more like Kalax meant somewhere between sad, unwell and pre-occupied. For a dragon, anything that left them feeling even a little worried was the same being unwell.

  Do you think it was the Healing Stone? I asked Kalax, not sure if she could even make that sort of complex judgment.

  Dragon Eggs hatch in those that are near them.

  Thoughts seemed to me like she was quoting from something. Did dragons even have literature? Did they mind-talk epic poems to each other?

  No. Kalax coughed a spurt of heat and smoke. I wasn’t sure if she meant the idea of dragon poetry, but then she thought, Thea sick because Thea died.

  She didn’t, I thought quickly, fear clutching at my heart. I could still see Thea’s pale face, her bluing lips, and her open but unseeing eyes. However, I knew now that the Healing Stone could not bring someone back from the dead—the person had to be alive and the injury had to be recent.

  Kalax huffed a scornful thought that annoyed me.

  They’re not even real dragon eggs, Kalax! They’re crystals or something that just look like a dragon egg.

  All of a sudden, the full force of her mind pressed against mine—for a brief moment I knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Kalax’s humor. Her mind sparkled with savage mirth. What does a boy know about eggs?

  The connection vanished, leaving me wondering just what Kalax knew that she wasn’t—or couldn’t tell me. And how could that help Thea—could I even do that?

  I’d been wanting to talk to Thea, but with all the extra work we had at the academy, there hadn’t been much time. But we were supposed to head over to the cabin tonight on our first spying mission.

  It was already well past dinnertime, and almost everyone had gone to bed. It had seemed to me the day had been spent working and waiting for a messenger and trying to keep up with all the tasks that needed doing—stacking and checking equipment, feeing dragons in the enclosure, making sure the flag systems were all working, sweeping, cleaning, and caring for the ponies, and even helping unload supplies from the ponies.

  At the back of the academy, I waited for Thea beside the last unlocked door, which was the one that opened out to a path that led into the mountains beyond. I heard the jingle of a dragon saddle and harness before I saw her. She appeared out of the gloom and pushed back the hood of her cloak to grin. “Feels good to be
doing something that isn’t sweeping,” she said, and I agreed.

  I nodded and left the lantern hanging beside the door. We headed out to where I knew Kalax was waiting for us. “Why do you think it’s so important to the commander that we watch a cabin, of all things? Do you think the Memory Stone could be there?” she asked.

  “Why would anyone put the Memory Stone in a cabin? When Lord Vincent had it before, he kept it with him.”

  Thea nodded. “On a silver chain,” she muttered. I could tell she was remembering how she’d cut that chain.

  Glancing at her, I asked, “What’s wrong, Thea?”

  “I just—Seb, what if this is just a way for the commander to keep us out of the way and not even give us time to look for the Armor Stone? I’m…I’m scared, Seb, that…that we’re just useless. That we can’t help anyone.”

  In the darkness, I couldn’t see her face, but I knew how much it cost her to admit to this. “You think they’ll send you back to court?” I said. She didn’t answer. We kept heading up the hill to the meadow where Kalax waited. I had to say something to cheer her up. “The commander wouldn’t have asked us to do anything that wasn’t important.”

  “We’ll see,” Thea said, sounding glum.

  A shadow loomed up in front of us, blocking the stars. Kalax snuffed out a warm greeting breath. I could tell she wanted us to hurry, so we threw on our saddles, and Kalax launched us into the cold, night air.

  *

  Tabbit’s Hollow was little more than an oddly-shaped curve of woods in the far foothills of Dragon Mountain. There weren’t many settlements, but a few deer and sheep tracks crossed the meadows. This was a little too close to the dragon enclosure for many herders to feel comfortable with leaving their sheep on the hillside. Only a few hunters lived up here, and those who didn’t mind the company of dragons every now and again.

  The cabin was set almost in the center of Tabbit’s Hollow. The land was wooded with a fast-flowing mountain stream that splashed nearby. Kalax landed at the edge of the wood, and I had left her eyeing river fish, with strict instructions only to make noise if she sensed any danger approaching. Ahead of me, Thea crept into the woods. We used only the light of the moon to guide us. I stepped on a twig—it broke with a loud crunch.