Water sloshing in the buckets, I stepped into the room.
Mordecai had cut away the king’s leggings, revealing the ugly wound. The arrow shaft stuck out, a terrible red and purple blotching spread out around it.
Shaking his head, Mordecai leaned down and sniffed. I didn’t think he needed to—even from the doorway, I could smell the foul smell that was rising, as if uncooked meat had sat too long in the sun. “Poisoned. The smallest nick would have killed the king—this…there is nothing to be done.”
Face going pale, Lady Flamma looked from Mordecai to the king. Her legs seemed to give out for she sank to the floor.
“But there must be something!” Thea hit the table with the flat of her hand. “What of the Healing Stone?”
“Give me the poppy milk and valerian, child. We can ease the agony.” Mordecai waved me over and soaked a wad of bandages in the steaming hot water. “We might slow the spread.” He took fresh bandages, wrapping them tight above the wound. The ugly color still seemed to spread—as did the smell—but it seemed to me it was moving slower.
Mordecai mixed his herbs into a thin paste that he dribbled into the king’s mouth. King Durance spluttered and licked his lips.
Putting a hand on his arm, Lady Flamma sat up. “Be at ease, Your Majesty.”
A boom shook the keep and dust drifted down on us from the ceiling.
Straightening, Lady Flamma looked up at Mordecai. “His will needs to be heard. He must give us his last command.”
I knew then the king would die.
I had never seen Mordecai anything but angry, or so it seemed to me. Now…Now his shoulders slumped and his face paled. He aged again to an old man, but one who looked broken. I glanced at the king.
King Durance had been king all of my life. I’d know someday he must die—but it wasn’t the same as seeing him die now before us. The poison was spreading. I could hear his lungs thicken with liquid—his breathing became heavy. I shivered. A king dying—in front of me. I was a smith’s boy and now I was seeing the death of a king.
“Prince Justin?” Thea said her voice unsteady. “He should be here.”
I nodded. This was a place for princes. Then I frowned and stepped up to Mordecai. Why was he delaying? My voice came out harsh as I asked him, “Where is the Healing Stone?”
For once, I wasn’t afraid of Mordecai. I was a Dragon Rider—I’d sworn to defend the king and if I must I’d go ransack the commander’s rooms for the stone. But if Mordecai had hidden it, I needed to know.
Mordecai let out a breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “Do you not think that was not my very first thought? It’s with Commander Hegarty. He thought that the one sensible thing he could do if that fool prince had ordered the squadrons away. He thought…he thought the prince was bound for danger.”
I glanced at Thea. Her stare had gone vague, and I knew she must be trying to sense if the Healing Stone was near. If all she—and Jodreth—had said was true, she’d know. She seemed to sense I was watching her. Her stare sharpened again and she glanced at me and shook her head.
The Healing Stone wasn’t near.
Mordecai straightened. “We thought…we didn’t think the Darkening would dare an attack on Torvald. We were so…so very wrong.” Rubbing his leg, Mordecai looked at me, “Sometimes we are asked to bear burdens that our not ours. But the fault here lies with me and the commander—we have been guilty of pride. Of thinking Torvald too strong to be taken. I guess it is time we all learned it is possible to make mistakes.” His mouth twisted down and a shadow of his usual annoyance surfaced.
I no longer feared it.
Next to us, the king stirred and murmured, “Justin.”
Lady Flamma shifted so she could again sooth the king’s forehead. “It is your servant, Esmerelda Flamma. What is your bidding?”
Another boom echoed from outside—the battle was coming closer. I eased toward the door—we needed to be ready to fight.
“My boy…Justin,” the king breathed out the words with pink bubbles of blood on his lips.
My throat tightened and for an instant I wondered if my father, too, had died this night. I clenched my fists at my side—the Darkening and Lord Vincent would pay for their terrible deeds.
“Yes, Your Highness?” Lady Flamma asked, wiping the blood from the king’s lips. “You wish him to succeed you? To take the throne?”
King Durance coughed. His eyes opened, but the look in them seemed distant and empty. “It is my will that the throne of Torvald be held next by Lord Vincent.”
“No!” Thea stepped forward, slashing the air with one hand. “It cannot be.”
“It is the Memory Stone,” I said. “Thea, you said you felt it at court—that you saw Lord Vincent there. That’s why he attended the ball.”
Mordecai’s cold voice lashed out. “Silence.”
King Durance let out a last shuddering breath. His eyes—so blank before—seemed to film over with gray. Lady Flamma sat back, her lower lip trembling.
Instructor Mordecai pulled off his own cloak and settled it over the king’s body. “May the First Dragon carry your soul, King Durance.” He bowed his head.
We all repeated the words, but I mumbled them. I was numb. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Lord Vincent had come just to try and steal the throne—by force and by cunning. My city was in ruins—burning now. Would anything be left?
I could hear ragged battle cries outside. With the king dead, I wanted to be in the air—I needed to see if my family was safe. But duty still pushed at me. I glanced around the room. “No one is to ever mention this to anyone. Not ever. As far as we’re all concerned, Prince…I mean King Justin is the rightful ruler. My sworn task as a Dragon Rider will be to make sure he takes his rightful place on the throne.”
“If he’s not had his memories changed, too, to give the crown to Lord Vincent,” Thea muttered.
My hands chilled at that idea. I knew then we’d have to make certain the new king was not also under the control of the Memory Stone and Lord Vincent.
Mordecai straightened and glanced from me to Thea and back again. “Let’s worry about what’s in front of us. We’ve a sky full of dragons and an army of Wildmen and bandits pounding on the gates.”
I scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck. I knew had soot on my face and it itched. “To be honest, I’m not sure we can save Torvald without the squadrons, but…well, all the dragons know there’s danger. Right now—other than Kalax—the dragons are more worried about protecting the enclosure and their own. I think…well, I can pull them out and into battle. Not just Feradima and Dellos, but the older brood dragons and the young hatchlings. Erufon and Gorgax will have to work together tonight. We’re going to need them all to have a hope of surviving until morning.”
Mordecai nodded. He headed back out into the corridor. “Whatever it is, do it, Smith! At least buy time to evacuate the city as best we can.” Mordecai paused, and raised an eyebrow at Lady Flamma. “You, too, my lady. Everyone else should already be gathered near the rear gate—we have a tunnel that leads from the academy into the mountains. The ponies are there, too, to carry food and water. Those from the city will head into the mountains as well and we’ll have to help them get there.”
Lady Flamma had been staring at the king’s body, her head bowed. Now she stood, and Thea moved to her side. Glancing at Mordecai, Thea said, “Instructor, nothing will stop a Flamma on a mission.”
For a moment, my chest tightened. I thought of Monger’s Lane. Had my family managed to get out? I didn’t know. I rubbed the back of my hand across my face. When Thea turned to look at me, I told her, “Come on. We’ve got dragons to call to battle.”
*
Chapter 16:
The Fall of Torvald
I ran with Seb to the equipment shed to get our saddles. Seb was already shouting up at Merik and Varla, as well as Jensen and Wil to get their harness ready, too. Kalax gave a roar, and I knew Seb was talking to her—and to the other drag
ons. As I saddled Kalax, Seb stared up at the enclosure. I could feel him pushing at the dragons—the old ones were reluctant to leave their nests undefended, but the young ones wanted to fight.
Feradima and Dellos burst into the air, swiping at black dragons as they flew here to get their riders. A dragon roar shook the ground, and then Erufon erupted into the air, shooting out flames in a long stream.
Gorgax took to the air, as well, and I wondered if Seb really would be able to control all the dragons—or if they go wild on us?
My mouth seemed filled with smoke. It burned my eyes—but still I kept thinking of King Durance. Sorrow for him clutched at my throat. He’d been so kind to me tonight. “Vincent,” I muttered and climbed up on Kalax’s back. Like her, I wanted battle now.
Heart pounding, I looked up at the top of the walls.
The trebuchets had given us time enough. I saw Wil and Jensen already up on Dellos, ready to take to the air. Varla was checking the last hitch of her saddle.
“Ready?” Seb called out.
I nodded and unslung my dragon bow. Two full quivers of long arrows hung from my saddle, along with my spears. Seb swung up on Kalax. “Riders to the sky!”
Kalax launched with a roar. Feradima followed here, then Dellos.
Dragons know how to fight, Kalax reminded us.
My stomach lurched as we soared up into the sky. Flame lit the night. Below us I saw the bandits at the gates pause and look up. Now they’d have to deal with Dragon Riders.
The fury of the dragons—Kalax’s desire for battle—bled into me. I wanted to fight.
I thought to Erufon how King Durance was now dead—but Erufon knew already. And the old dragon wanted revenge. I looked over to see Erufon battling wild dragons, scattering them with harsh blows and fire. Turning, I leaned into the rush of wind as Kalax and two young, red dragons joined her in diving at the bandits near the main gates.
The bandits threw down their weapons and ran. Pulling my bow, I took aim, targeting those few who stood to face us. Two arrows flew and hit their marks. Kalax swept up two of the bandits and then dropped them on those who were fleeing.
Seb urged Kalax to turn and head to the city, and he called back to me, “We have to make sure the people get out.”
I nodded—and I thought of my mother, and my father. Father had stayed home tonight—but he’d been a Dragon Rider in his time. He would have his armor and his weapon.
And then there was no time to think of anything but targets—of ducking, aiming, firing.
Several times, I picked up a sense of panic from Seb—as if trying to keep all the dragons focused was slipping out of his control.
Around us, the screeches of the wild, black dragons shook the sky. They’d seem to appear out of the night, barbed tails whipping, their wings just patches of inky darkness. All I could see was a flash of eyes and the bone-like white of long fangs.
“Brace,” Seb shouted, as he had Kalax flip and turn, dodging the blacks. Kalax would come around then, ready to engage with the wild dragon, but Seb kept urging her back to guard the city.
Let her fight! Let her fight!
I kept willing Seb to let Kalax loose.
And then I saw what Seb was trying to do.
He had seen that, as soon as we’d get into a fight with one dragon, three more would drop down from above. It was a good tactic.
They’re trying to do this with Jensen and Wil and Dellos!
Kalax broke away from the black dragons crowding her and raced to where our friends were being mobbed.
I felt rather than saw Seb do something. A wave of sickness spread up from my belly, and Kalax shuddered, too.
Seb had flung out his hands out—ahead of us, the wild, black dragons had convulsed as if they’d been struck ill. They scattered, heading low for the trees, revealing Jensen and Wil still safe on Dellos. Jensen extended his protector harness. He gave us a wave and he and Wil turned toward the city.
“West gate,” Seb shouted.
Wil waved a hand as if he’d heard.
“Seb, was that you?” I shouted. “What did you do?”
“I…I think so.” Seb’s voice sounded shaky. I could see sweat gleaming on his face as he glanced back at me.
Seb turned Kalax and we headed for the city.
Arrows spun up from the ground, but they kept missing us. I glanced down, searching for a target. One of the arrows sparked off Kalax. You hurt? I asked her.
She gave me a shiver of annoyance, and I realized the arrow must have hit a buckle or some part of the dragon harness.
“Now, Kalax!” Seb was urging her onward. I found my targets—a small group of Wildmen shooting at us from the edge of the city. I took aim and launched my own arrows down on them. That stopped any more arrows flying at us.
Glancing down, I saw that most of the streets were empty—people had been fleeing the city for some time, it seemed. Kalax swept down and we headed for the city walls, clearing the path for those who had not yet gotten out of the city. Small groups of bandits or Wildmen waited, but the dragons easily scattered them.
I glanced up at the sky.
Dawn was coming—and we didn’t have an army, we had a mess.
Dragons careened across the night sky, the undersides of their wings and their bellies gleaming with the reflections of a hundred fires, their jaws dripping with blood. It was mayhem, and every minute I thought would be our last.
Battle and blood in the air, Kalax thought at me. She was right. The battle was making all the dragons return to their wild state. Some dragons were just circling overhead. Others were screaming out cries. Others were randomly diving at anything that moved—including the people of Torvald.
We have to get organized, I thought to Kalax.
She gave a deep, purring rattle in her ribcage that turned into a sonorous call like the sound of the Dragon Horns.
“She’s trying to call the dragons to rally to her,” Seb shouted back at me. But there was a glittering excitement in his eyes that made me nervous. I could tell he was straining to try to talk to all these dragons. How could he control that much energy?
“Seb,” I said trying to warn him. He wasn’t listening.
Neither of us knew the full dangers of using the dragon affinity. Varla had found only a few scant references in the old books—but the gift seemed to come at a terrible price. So much so that Varla had once confided in me that it had been viewed as more of a curse.
“Come on, come on,” Seb called out, his voice hoarse. “Battle formations!”
A massive, scarred and ancient head swung into view and Erufon sailed past us. I had the feeling Erufon had come to Kalax’s call, but now Erufon seemed to be trying to take charge. And then I felt an echo of Erufon’s sorrow. Sadness. Incredible, terrible sadness and it was emanating from the older dragon itself.
Erufon mourns, Kalax thought at me.
No time for that. Time to take revenge, I thought back.
I felt Kalax agree, and she gave Erufon a high-pitched, shrill call.
Erufon soared higher.
I felt a sudden wave of vertigo and dizziness spreading out. I glanced at Seb and I knew he was doing that. I had a strange doubling of vision—I was seeing Seb, but I was also seeing Seb as Kalax saw. For an instant, it seemed as if every dragon’s mind was mine.
I heard a low, dragon voice in my ears—it sounded like Kalax, but somehow her voice had become mingled with Seb’s. It was as if he was using her voice—or she was using his—to talk to all our other dragons. Or they had melded into one being.
Wind’s-teeth!
Fierce-stalker!
Flame-children—defend your home!
For a moment, after I heard only the wind. The wave of power ebbed, leaving my stomach churning. Underneath me Kalax was fairly thrumming with joy.
Erufon gave a hissing roar, and the other dragons began to circle around him, starting to form the battle formations I knew from training. But these were dragons without riders—with o
nly Seb talking to all of them.
The youngest of the enclosure dragons joined up with Erufon. They soared around him, wings spread wide and claws glinting. The brood mothers—mostly blues and greens—fell in next. They weren’t fast—they were more like flying fortresses. Behind them, the long and sinuous green dragons began to rally.
Even some of the wild blacks began to follow Erufon, as if they couldn’t resist his summons.
The last to follow—larger and longer even that Erufon—was Gargax. He soared past us, his long tail snapping the air above our heads, warning me, Seb, and Kalax all others that he was really still in charge.
Mouth open, I stared, my pulse quick and my breaths shallow.
I had never seen such a sight before—riderless dragons, choosing of their own will—with a bit of help from Seb—to fight for humans. This was like seeing childhood tales come to life with the dragons of old.
We might…just might be able to save the academy, but we’d have to do it while we helped everyone escaped the burning city.
Turning Kalax, Seb urged her to fall in next to Erufon.
The black dragons circled over the academy—now that the trebuchets weren’t firing, they were attacking. Our dragons smashed into the hovering, circling crowd, scattering the wild dragons.
“They’re too fast,” I shouted, and saw Seb nod. Then we were under attack.
Seb leaned, and we scraped past the right wing of an approaching wild dragon. It flashed out its barbed tail and claws, but Kalax folded her wings and ducked.
Drawing my bow, I tracked the wild dragon who’d almost hit us. I fired. The arrow flew true, but at the last minute the black dragon twisted and caught the arrow—I’d never seen a dragon do that before. I wondered if that was the downside of the affinity—if the dragon had sensed my shot and my intent. If so, I was going to have to get better at shielding my thoughts the way Kalax could.
“Eyes front,” Seb called. Another wild black dragon fell out of the dawn, its claws aimed at us.
Seb ducked, Kalax twisted, and I was thrown to one side. I almost lost my grip on my bow. I felt a blast of hot breath on my neck, and narrowly missed becoming dragon food.
Dragon Legends (Return of the Darkening Book 2) Page 17