Son of Dragons

by Andrea R. Cooper

  “My path is here as the slayer of the undead.” Even as she spoke the words, they sounded hollow to her ears. The cot creaked behind her, but it was probably just Brock shifting positions. How long would it take before he fully recovered?

  No doubt he and Celeste desired to travel as soon as possible. She wanted Breena to say she didn’t need to leave.

  “Can I assume, since his eyes are as green as yours that this is your brother? The one Nivel often spoke of?”

  Mirhana gasped. How did Breena know the color of his eyes? When she felt the hair on the back of her neck quiver, she jumped.

  “Celeste?” His green eyes smoldered as if fire would devour them if they did not give an answer that pleased him.

  “Will be back any moment.” Breena smiled, although she, too, took a step back. “She washes.”

  He ran a hand through his black hair. Mirhana wished Celeste would hurry. With a double take, he stared at her. “Are you Elvin?” His eyebrow cocked.

  “I am Mirhana; my ancestor is Nivel.” Besides her ancestor, she had never seen another Elvin. Now, here was a man who was possibly her brother. Would he accept her? Shun her? She would not get her hopes up. She knew why she had been kicked out and given to the witches. She looked human, but she didn’t fit in either world: she was too humanlike for the Elvin, and too exotic-looking for the humans.

  Instead of arguing with her or denying that she was his sister who he hadn’t seen since birth, he gripped her in a hug that made the air rush out of her. Then she felt a tingling through her body, as though his energy licked at the hairs along her arms.

  He jerked away and rubbed his hands down his trousers as if she had shocked them. “I’m your brother, Brock.” He was tall like Nivel. “I didn’t know you were alive until recently.”

  “What happened when you touched me?” Her stomach flopped; the runes were right. They had said she would meet her brother soon. She would leave with her brother and Celeste if they allowed it. “Sorry I shot you,” she mumbled. Daft, she wanted to kill her brother when she first saw him.

  “I am cursed from a vampyre bite. None may touch my flesh, save Celeste, and live. It is only because my hunger is satisfied for now from the dragon tooth, and that you are a magical creature that you live, as the kajh—your life essence—takes longer to absorb. If you had been human and my curse awake, you’d be dead from my carelessness.”

  Celeste entered, and Mirhana blushed. She turned away to help Breena as the couple embraced. Would she ever find a love like theirs? She had seen the way they looked at each other despite poison ravaging him. But who would want me, an Elvin castaway?

  “We found her.” Brock’s arm rested around Celeste’s waist. “This is my lost twin, my sister Mirhana.”

  “I know.” When the others gasped, Celeste continued. “I was more concerned with your recovery than reunions. Though I wish we could’ve met under more favorable conditions, I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Let me bring in the prophecies; perhaps you can help us decipher them.” Brock released Celeste and slipped outside for a moment.

  When he returned, the three women turned to him. A folded parchment rested in his hands. “Now we must review the prophecies and prepare.”

  “The Warloc’s progeny has already struck, and I don’t think she is finished yet.” Celeste flopped down in a chair.

  “What happened?” Mirhana leaned against the wall as Brock laid out the parchment.

  “We crossed the Elvin barrier and Celeste got trapped inside a magical tree with a rock creature that devoured magic. It took me awhile to find her in the maze of caves carved inside this tree. Finally, after fighting it, my power devoured it.”

  Celeste folded her hands on the table. “Then the tree caves, where it had been lost, collapsed. Brock helped us escape. Inside Tamlon, the tree city where Brock lived, his fiancée Liana returned as a deadwalker, but one who seemed to have her own agenda, not just following a necromancer’s orders. Liana brought some skeletons with her that Brock couldn’t harm with his power. I finally had to blast them with witchfire.

  Mirhana nodded. “I had an encounter with one of those bone beings myself.”

  I know it’s just the beginning. The Warloc’s protégé has set us back weeks already.” Celeste frowned.

  Brock opened the parchment and read. “The prophecies say, with the healing of the land at Beltane, rejoice not. Evil breeds for renewal within one year.

  Bring together the four to Cape Seyechell. The dark one—Vaer—and the Key. Join the sacrifice with the Son of the Dragons at the prism of the abyss, the Forgotten Lands. Remember the fourth and the abandoned one.

  Only then will the evil be extinguished. Else, it will darken the land, and nowhere, not in the dragon’s lairs, Elvin trees, or human lands will any find refuge. Lost is the dragons’ treasure. Only the Son of the Dragons can find it.

  “Where is this Cape Seyechell? I’ve never heard of it.” Mirhana leaned on the table.

  “Across the Primora Sea.” Brock ran a hand through his black hair. “There are rumors that the land is cursed.”

  “It’s a considerable journey according to the Elvin maps.” Celeste tapped her chin. “Months or more on horseback.”

  Mirhana’s attention wavered back to the words. “Are there any other prophecies? Something to give us a clue as to where to find this Dragon’s son? How do we know which dragon is the right one? I’ve never seen a dragon. If Celeste did not have the tooth to prove they exist, I wouldn’t have believed her.”

  “Celeste and I searched the scrolls for weeks then copied them all into this parchment.”

  As darkness fell, they read and debated. None knew where to find this Son of the Dragons. Hours flew by, and Breena handed out bowls of lamb stew. All but Brock ate as they spoke of their trials and lives. Brock explained to them that food or drink no longer sustained him since the vampyre bit him. Rather than blood, he must feed on the kajh—life essence of a person’s soul. That was why his touch killed: it drained the victim of their kajh as vampyres sucked the blood from their victim.

  Magical creatures and beings sustained him longer than humans, but his curse did not work on animals. Possibly, he reasoned, they did not have enough kajh for his curse to grab hold of.

  Mirhana received a piercing message in her mind from Melwyn. She had sent her cat to follow the two men in the village, one of whom she could not stop thinking about. Come quickly. Undead circle the inn where the strangers lodge.

  In the past, Nivel told her she was blessed to communicate with her pet. Long ago, many Elvin spoke without words to animals—even over distances—if they had previously connected with them. Even though she had an affinity for all animals, she had only bonded with one, her pet.

  “Danger.” Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She always had trouble communicating the normal way after she received or sent messages to Melwyn. “The dead … are here.”

  Chapter Six

  Mirhana’s eyes fluttered as she came out of her daze. She felt her muscles tense from sharing a telekinetic link with her pet.

  “What do you mean?” Celeste looked around the cottage as if expecting a corpse to burst through the walls.

  “Give her a moment.” The old woman stuffed a pack with trousers and tunics. Then her wrinkled hands lined up Mirhana’s arrows with their poison tips so they could dry. The undead took precedence over all else for the moment.

  “You both should stay here in Vicsburg.” Mirhana snapped her head up. “I’ll return before dawn.”

  “Nay, I’ll go with you.” Brock stomped his boots on. “Sounds like more than a few.”

  “Have you ever fought an undead?” She rested her hand on her hip.

  “Do skeletons count?” Celeste asked. “We’ve fought Bergones, Shints, and the Warloc. How will deadwalkers be worse?”

  She smiled and snatched up her weapons. “First rule, do not touch them or let them touch you. One sc
ratch or bite, and you’ll become an undead by the morrow if not before. Some take longer for the transformation, others an hour or so. Second rule: cut off their heads to kill them. The arrows only slow them down—don’t depend on the poisons. Third rule, follow my lead. I’ve had hundreds of years of experience fighting these and other undead.”

  “I understand, but I’ve fighting experience as well … just not with these creatures.” Brock folded his arms across his chest. “I’m sure I’ll be fine with or without your help.”

  “I’m coming too,” Celeste said.

  “Why don’t you rest?” Brock ran a hand down her arm.

  Her glare brought a scowl from him.

  “Let’s move.” Mirhana pushed past them and into the night.

  Outside, Mirhana saddled Shadowdancer, Celeste and Brock’s horse. Well, Celeste’s horse anyway; it seemed to only tolerate Brock riding him.

  “The prophecy scroll?” Brock asked.

  Mirhana patted the pack nearest in answer.

  Celeste mounted and rode her horse to a canter while Brock and Mirhana ran alongside. Before they reached the village square, the stench of decaying flesh—like rancid meat and spoiled eggs—smacked them. The extent of the devastation was gutwrenching. Even dead, the corpses’ stench of decaying meat and the copper taint of blood was everywhere. Celeste maneuvered Shadowdancer around the bodies, but some were trampled beneath the hooves.

  Men and women groaned as they lay in puddles of blood. Everywhere, pieces of limbs and organs lay scattered about the cobbled streets of Vicsburg, chewed by rats. Celeste, Brock and Mirhana edged closer and scanned the area.

  “This is worse than I imagined.” Mirhana avoided the mutilated people as she walked. “Damage like this, there must be dozens undead, or more.”

  “What of these who’ve been bitten?” Celeste asked.

  “We must decapitate them,” Mirhana said.

  “But they’re innocent.” Celeste’s voice echoed through the moans. “Surely we’ll find a way to stop them from becoming the undead.”

  Mirhana spun around. “If there is a way, then tell me. One of my friends, I had to remove her head when she was nine. Only nine. The undead had tainted her. Do you not think I tried everything I could to save her first?”

  Before Celeste took a breath to answer, Mirhana’s sword swooshed. There was a whack, and the man’s head rolled in front of them. Mirhana hated watching humans die. So many friends and lovers she'd buried, until she could no longer sleep without nightmares. Three decades ago, she had sworn off relationships. It was too painful, what with the plague of the undead creeping forth to claim the ones she loved. Inside, when she thought she was numb to the dying and decay, a piece of her still broke with each kill.

  “Stop.” Celeste leapt off her horse before Brock snatched her back. “At least, let me try.”

  Brock unsheathed his sword.

  If Mirhana had to dispatch them all, she would. “It’ll be safe to touch them until they become one of the deadwalkers. After the transformation, their blood, bites, or nails carry the disease.”

  Celeste went to a bakery where a child covered in blood hung from one of the windows. Brock helped her move the body to the street, careful not to touch his skin and drain his kajh.

  Celeste’s magic charged on the air like crackles of invisible lightning. The boy lay motionless. “It’s too late, he’s dead.” She sounded tired.

  Mirhana stepped forward with her sword raised.

  “Didn’t you hear? He’s dead.” Celeste blocked her from the child. “Leave him be.”

  “His head is still attached, even if his leg is not.” She placed a hand on her shoulder. “I wish it were not so, but he can still revive as one of the undead.”

  Celeste nodded, moving to another victim. Her shoulders sagged when Mirhana’s blade cleaved the boy’s head.

  Throughout the night, Celeste worked her magic upon the injured. All remained the same. Surely, this drained her power.

  “Perhaps we should follow Mirhana’s advice and destroy these, for the hour is late and—”

  One of the men sprang up, his jaw slack as he stumbled toward Celeste. Brock dove forward and smashed his shoulder into the undead’s stomach. The creature was too close to Celeste for him to use his sword. He grunted and both Brock and the creature tumbled to the ground. Before it sat up, his sword beheaded it.

  “Told you it was useless,” Mirhana whispered.

  Exhausted, Celeste flopped down, her face in her hands, but no one had time to comfort her.

  Quickly, Mirhana and Brock beheaded men, women, and children in the streets. Then they searched the buildings, leaving Celeste outside to rest.

  Brock ran to the nearest inn, Mirhana at his heels. There was another inn two streets down, a church, and a tavern to examine. Then they would check the houses.

  Inside the inn, bodies were piled across the floor. It was almost as if villagers that had been outside ran in there for safety, but found none.

  After the first floor was finished, they climbed the stairs to the second floor. Everywhere was a body or a limb, a jigsaw puzzle of body parts.

  In one of the rooms, a door and window were torn apart. Clothes and furniture shredded into splinters and patches.

  A man lay among a heap of wood clutching a sword in his hand. His head was on his chest and his dark hair, coated in blood hung, in his face. When Brock raised his sword, the man’s blade shot up and blocked his swing.

  The man’s eyes widened as he scooted back. “B-Brock? It’s me, Gillespie.” He wiped the sweat and blood from his brow with his free hand. “You released me from Father Morgan. Do you not remember me?”

  “Aye.”

  Mirhana knelt beside him. “What happened here tonight?”

  He turned to her. “You. The one from the forest.”

  “Tell me what happened before you lose your speech.”

  “At least fifty came upon us,” he said. “I told Landon I saw how you killed these monsters. It was no use, too many of them. They took him.”

  “Why?” Brock asked.

  “I—I don’t know. Except that the Sorceress who controls these creatures wanted him.”

  “How long ago were you bitten?” Mirhana’s hand hovered over him. “Or scratched?”

  “None touched me.”

  “He has no taint of death.” Pieces of Mirhana's black hair, loosened from her braid, hung around her face. “Sunset comes, we must cleanse the village. All who have the sickness—”

  A flickering from the window made her stomach flinch.

  Rushing to the window, Mirhana saw that a throng of villagers surrounded Celeste. The undead from other buildings must have awoken. Celeste raised her dagger, but her protective shield sputtered. One creature slumped away from others as if he still had a mind of his own. Brock leaned forward against the windowsill next to her.

  Mirhana could tell Celeste was too tired to hold onto the magic needed to protect herself much longer. Brock tore from the room. She cursed and flew down the stairs after him.

  On his way to Celeste, he hacked through people.

  “Concentrate!” Mirhana shouted. “Heads only, lopping off arms does no good.”

  Celeste’s shield collapsed. Brock screamed in rage.

  Chapter Seven

  Sections of bodies flung through the air as they sliced their way to Celeste. Mirhana didn’t know which was worse: that Celeste’s shield still held, or that the flickering might bring her magic crashing down before they reached her.

  “A little longer, Celeste.” Brock kicked aside a toddler wanting to bite his knee. “Almost there.”

  A garnet-colored blast vibrated through them. Mirhana had never felt magic this strong.

  It was as if the heat of the sun shot through her, burning the air in her lungs. The fire whipped through her and spun outward. In the distance, trees swayed.

  Around them, the deadwalkers were piles of ash, choking the air.

  “What
did you do?” Gillespie asked. His voice sounded as if he too labored to breathe.

  “Forced all dead burned away. There were too many of them.”

  Where bodies of the undead had stood were now only wisps of smoke, and even Brock was knocked down to his knees from the force. Hundreds, more than Mirhana thought lived in this village, were scattered piles of clothing and ash across the cobbled streets. She marveled at Celeste’s power. All of the deadwalkers in the square were gone. The dust from their charred remains blew away with the breeze. Silence surrounded them and Mirhana wondered if Celeste had wiped out the creatures throughout the entire town with witchfire.

  If Mirhana had released this much magic, it would have killed her, burnt her alive from the inside out, and she might have destroyed a mere handful of the deadwalkers, not an entire town.

  Celeste’s skin was pale. Even though the power of witch was hers to command, Celeste was human; one day she would die. Just as everyone else around Mirhana always had.

  “Get off your arse,” Mirhana said, trying to lighten the somber mood. She held her sword in one hand, and offered Brock the other.

  Instead of accepting her outstretched hand, he stood. Realizing he held the power of death, and the trace of her kajh and memories he took when he hugged her earlier, she lowered her arm, and took a step back.

  “Aye, don’t forget, only Celeste may touch me and live. It is my curse. However, Celeste is my hope. Let’s finish this, we don’t want stragglers trailing us or harming anyone else.”

  “There are none here,” Celeste whispered.

  “What do you mean?” Gillespie asked.

  “I sent my magic out for miles.” Celeste tucked a stray blonde hair behind her ear. “If there were any undead, they are dust now.”

  • • •

  Dawn yawned and tossed aside the colored blanket of the night. As Celeste predicted, all of undead were burnt to ash from her magic. Mirhana and Brock checked a few buildings to be certain, but found nothing but the powdered remains of deadwalkers.