by Ben Hale
Draeken’s power rose, his anger spilling into strength that allowed him to drive the beast backward a step. The dragon thrashed, its claws gouging the stone, the motions laced with a desperate surprise. Draeken tightened his grip on the dragon, his fury reaching a breaking point.
“I am Draeken,” he shouted. “Lord of magic, god of guardians. And even dragon kind will KNEEL AT MY FEET!”
Draeken reversed his grip and yanked, pulling the dragon toward the opening, impaling the dragon on the spike, the spike piercing its body all the way to its back. Its horrendous roar indicated a mortal wound.
Draeken clung to the beast’s head as it thrashed its death throes. Pinned by the spike of aquaglass, the dragon’s body hung down the mountainside with Draeken clinging to his horns. The wind snapped at Draeken’s cloak, while soaring dragons spotted him and dived. The lead dragon closed its jaws on the golem’s leg, and Draeken released the golem. He jumped free of the golem and caught the horn of the thrashing dragon with his bare hands.
As other dragons dived for him, Draeken used the spikes on the beast’s neck to ascend back to the great cavern. He jumped free of the beast and tumbled to his knees, just as a trio of blue dragons sought to land, their claws reaching for him.
The tornado dodged to the side, spinning around Draeken so closely that he felt his clothing tear from the wind. Then the cyclone bashed into the lead dragon, the wind shoving its wings and sending it tumbling into its companions.
Draeken looked to Lira and nodded his gratitude, and she flashed a tightlipped smile. Then she was forced to retreat as the king’s duel with Elenyr spilled more fire in her direction. Draeken rose to his feet and advanced on the remaining red dragon, his surge of anger dissipating into a cold resolve.
The second dragon clawed the last of the spiders from his shredded body, but instead of attacking, it dived for an exit, escaping past a tornado into the relative freedom of the sky. But its roar was not of dismay, and the call was answered by dozens of other throats. Realizing they were about to be overrun, Draeken started toward Elenyr, stumbling as fatigue swept across his body.
As fragments, he’d faced many enemies that were a true threat, but never as Draeken, and the sensation of weakness was new. He gritted his teeth and used the lingering pools of fire to gather his power, adding water to the mix.
The king clawed at the wall where Elenyr had disappeared into the stone, tearing away great chunks in the cavern as it roared its fury. Although Elenyr was a fraction the golden dragon’s size, she’d hurt the king, and the host of bloody furrows bore testament to her fortitude.
Abruptly Elenyr burst from the wall above the King and fell towards his snout. The king saw her at the last moment and reared back, but she landed on his nose and aimed her sword at the dragon’s eye, her blade a scant finger-width from the King’s right iris.
The great dragon froze, its entire body trembling in rage. Elenyr clung to a scale with one hand, her other holding the sword where she could blind the beast. Her cloak was torn and green blood darkened her body, but her face beneath her cowl was bright with a disturbing calm.
“How long would you survive with just a single eye?”
Draeken saw the consternation in the dragon’s whirling eyes. If he tried to fling Elenyr off and failed, his life was at an end. Perhaps not now, perhaps not tomorrow, but unable to see an entire flank would leave him vulnerable, and the rest of dragon kind would terminate his reign.
You dare to—
“Yes I dare,” Elenyr shouted, her voice a righteous timbre. “If you or your kind ever threatens to break the treaty, I will see you extinguished from this world.”
Muscles bunched in the dragon’s body but its head did not move. You are no longer the high oracle, the dragon snarled. You do not have the authority to speak on behalf of the races.
“My blade is my authority,” she said, her voice rising. “King or commoner, demon or dragon, you will not defy the treaty. If you continue to break your oath, I will return upon your head a hundredfold the violence you wreak upon the kingdoms, and strip you of your title and life so another may reign in your stead. Your bones will rot next to the corpse of your father and all will speak of the foolish king of dragons.”
The seconds bled away as the flapping of wings approached, and suddenly dozens of dragons filled the openings, blasting through the cyclones. The shattering of the magic sent Lira to her knees. Draeken turned to face the nearest group of dragons, filling his hands with magic just as the king voice thundered in his head.
The treaty stands, the King bellowed. The krey are no longer our allies. This oath I speak is bound by my reign, and all will abide.
Elenyr withdrew her blade and dropped through his jaws to land on the floor. Without looking back, she strode to Draeken. He fell into step beside her as they walked through the parting dragons and past the corridor to the Gate chamber. It was shredded, the stone still burning, the finely cut granite coated in ash and smoke. Passing it by, Elenyr led them to the south ledge, ignoring the dragons parting for the small trio. Limping, Lira joined them.
Feeling the weight of the dragon’s eyes, Draeken stepped off the edge and fell, holding Elenyr’s hand as they plummeted out of view. Elenyr kept a firm grip on him while letting her sword turn partially ethereal. Stabbing it into the cliff, she slowed their descent until they reached a rocky crag from which they could descend. Only then did Draeken look up, and spotted Lira with wings of air floating down beside them, looking all the while like an angel.
“How many could face down the king of dragons?” Lira asked.
Elenyr snorted and winced before lifting her cloak to reveal bloody furrows down her side. “Not unscathed.”
“We should have killed the king,” Draeken said.
He reached up to the wound across his shoulder, grimacing as his hand came away bloody. The dragon’s teeth had dug into his flesh, and now that he looked at the wound his head swam. Every touch of his shoulder heightened the pain and he growled.
“I’m made of magic,” he said. “So why does it hurt so much?”
“If you live, you can bleed,” Elenyr said, using a strip of cloth to bandage his arm. Then their eyes met. “We are ageless,” she said. “Not immortal.”
Draeken looked up to the dragon peaks. He’d trained his entire life to fight threats to the people of Lumineia, and escaped death countless times—but never as Draeken. Today he felt different. Today he felt vulnerable.
Chapter 42: Divided
Water groaned as he separated from Draeken. He fell to his knees, his first thoughts of pain. Fire and Mind separated behind him, and Water heard Fire’s growl as he too registered his new wounds.
Water gingerly took a seat at the log next to the fire and examined the wound on his shoulder. The dragon that had clawed its way through the fireflesh had gotten close enough to tear into his body, but Water was lucky. The wounds were shallow.
“Here,” Elenyr said, offering her water skin. “You need to clean the wound.”
The concern in her voice prompted Water to look up at her and offer a fleeting smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“I know,” Elenyr said.
She returned the smile with her own and then stepped to Mind, giving him the bulk of her attention. Fire had already stepped into the small fire in the center of the clearing, grimacing as the flames burned across his own injured shoulder.
Throughout the exchange, Lira sat silently next to Water. Her injuries were minor, but without her, the outpost would have been overrun with dragons, and they would all have perished. Water caught her eye and she nodded her assurance, but there was a rigidity to her posture that indicated she was not well.
They had departed the Dragon’s Teeth and reached the pass with the giant tooth. Fatigue and injury had finally brought them to a halt in the valley on the north side of the pass, where Elenyr had built a fire and tended to their wounds.
“Elenyr,” Mind said softly. “You have your own injuries.�
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“I’ll be fine,” she said.
“Can I help?” Lira asked.
Elenyr glanced her way and nodded. “Get Water to the stream.” She used her chin to point to the gurgle of water nearby.
Lira helped Water to his feet. He wanted to refuse, but her touch sent a shudder into his skin that briefly overpowered the pain. They worked their way down a shallow gulley and Water spotted the sheen of flowing water in the darkness. He stepped to the bank and waded in, breathing a sigh of relief as he brought the water across his flesh, using his magic to begin healing.
“You use water to heal, and Fire uses flame, what does Mind use?”
Water sank into the stream up to his neck. “He’s the only one that cannot heal with an element,” he said. “His injuries will have to heal the old-fashioned way.”
“What’s it like being Draeken?” Lira asked.
“It’s difficult to explain,” Water said. “If any one of us joins with Mind we become Draeken. When all are joined our mind is whole, and our strength is . . . significant, but there is only one consciousness.”
“But what happens to you?” she asked.
“We are part of the whole,” Water said with a shrug. “All the fragments have the aspects to their personality and together I think we’re relatively normal. Any experiences we’ve had when apart are merged into a single memory.”
“So Mind now knows everything we did together?” she asked.
He flashed a faint smile. “Are you ashamed of the kiss?”
She shook her head and looked away. “It’s just disconcerting to feel like anything we share will be shared with another.”
“Mind doesn’t keep the memories,” Water admitted.
She splashed the water at him, and he laughed. “You knew I was worried.”
“I knew nothing,” Water said with a mischievous smile.
“Your healing is making you bold,” she said.
“Perhaps,” he admitted.
Her smile faded. “Where do the shared memories go?”
Water checked the wound on his shoulder, pleased to see the flesh beginning to knit, giving a strange itching sensation. “I don’t know,” he said. “There’s still a lot we don’t know about Draeken. Not yet.”
“But you give up yourself to be joined,” Lira pressed.
Water smiled at Lira’s confusion. She sat on a boulder at the water’s edge, their hands almost touching. The proximity spoke to a rising attachment, or that was Water’s hope. With moonlight streaming through the trees, she looked more stunning than ever.
“The fragments are drawn to each other,” Water explained. “When apart, none of us feel completely whole. I imagine if you lost your sense of amusement and fun you would feel the lack.”
“Is that Light?” she asked. “The sense of fun?”
Water glanced north, toward where Light had departed. “He has a greater portion than the rest of us.”
“Before me, did you ever think about leaving the others?” Lira asked. “Just living your own life?”
Water had in fact considered that fate, but always come to the same conclusion. The fragments were all connected. How could one—especially he—consider abandoning Draeken. To do so would forever deprive them of Water’s personality.
Water grimaced as he imagined how his absence would weaken the rest of them, alter their collective thoughts. Together the five balanced each other’s desires, wants, and darker inclinations. Mind craved power, while Fire had a temper. Shadow’s sense of mischief frequently resulted in real damage. Even Light had a darker side, and occasionally struggled with bouts of fury.
Water alone seemed mostly free of such darkness, and without him, all the rest would be weakened. He recalled how many times he’d been the moral compass that had helped them make choices when the others had fallen to their darker impulses. They also helped curb his own darker inclinations, which his conversation with Serak had brought out.
Her question also reminded him of her invitation to join the Eternals. It was an invitation she’d extended to him, not to Draeken or the fragments. Then he recalled how she had looked at Draeken.
“You do not like Draeken,” he stated.
She regarded him for several moments. “I don’t trust him.” She laughed to herself. “Which doesn’t make sense, because I trust you, and you are part of him.”
“You would have liked him even less if he’d lost control,” Water said.
He winced as a fragment of dirt was pushed out of the wound, and lifted his shoulder to watch the sliver exit his flesh. Using water to heal was always preferable to healing the normal way, and he recalled Elenyr making him heal from a cut in his youth. It had taken weeks, and he’d never complained about injuries again.
“I must admit, watching you fight a pair of dragons was exhilarating, but Draeken has a vicious streak.”
He looked away, uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed. Draeken had killed a dragon in battle, but the act was tinged with brutality, tarnishing the victory. The anger was an unsettling reminder of Water’s own rage in Serak’s cage.
“Draeken has yet to learn control,” Water said quietly.
She regarded him for several long moments. “His power is . . . dinsconcerting.”
“I’m just glad we survived,” he said. “And without you blocking the doors, we would not have.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Lira said. “When Elenyr disappeared in the king’s fire, I thought she was dead.”
“Elenyr has a way of surviving,” he said with a smile.
“As does Wylyn,” she said sourly.
“We’ll find her,” he said.
He reached out and placed his hand on hers. She met his gaze and nodded, and he wondered if she was thinking of Renara, and the family she’d lost. Lira was a warrior, but the scars of her life refused to be buried.
The last of his skin closed and he rose from the stream. As he stepped free, he pulled the moisture from his clothes and joined Lira, who stood as well. She ran a finger across his now smooth skin, her touch eliciting a shudder.
“I’ve never seen you so injured,” she said, her voice worried.
“Everything can be killed,” he said softly.
She reached up and put a hand on his cheek, and then leaned into a kiss. The contact spoke volumes of the fear she’d felt, of the worry, and something deeper. He wrapped his arms around her and sought to reassure her.
When they parted, her expression was irritated. “I don’t like the effect you have on me.”
“I think you do,” he said.
She pushed his shoulder, making him wince. Then she smiled and they ascended the slope, reaching the fire a moment later. As they resumed their seats, Fire stepped free of the flames, equally as healed. Mind stared into the campfire, holding the bloody bandage on his shoulder.
Elenyr glanced to Water and he nodded, indicating he was well. Then Elenyr turned to the others. “I know we are injured, but it’s a time of decision.”
“And suspicion,” Fire said. “Wylyn knew we were coming.”
“What are you saying?” Water asked, confused by his accusation.
“What we’re all thinking,” Fire said. “It was a trap, and someone we trust is on her side.”
“Who?” Lira asked. “The only people that knew we were coming are those in this circle.”
“It wasn’t one of the fragments,” Fire said, glaring at her. “And it certainly wasn’t Elenyr.”
“You’re saying it was me?” Lira asked, her voice cold.
Fire filled his hand with flames. “I think you’re a traitor.”
Chapter 43: A Brother’s Request
“This is absurd,” Water said. “We can trust Lira.”
“Says the one falling for her.”
Water flushed, and shook his head. “I’ve fought with her for months. I think I know her by now.” He threw Elenyr a pleading look, but she did not intervene.
Taking he
r silence as confirmation, Fire stabbed a finger at Lira. “If you betrayed us I’ll—”
“It wasn’t her,” Mind said.
“How can you say that?” Fire demanded, rounding on him.
“Because it’s true,” Mind said. “We were led there, but the trap started long before we walked into the outpost.”
Relieved for Mind’s support, Water motioned to him. “What do you mean?”
Mind grimaced as he leaned against the trunk of a tree. “Water and Lira were guided to the destroyed village, where an Order member sent them to Keese. There they met up with Shadow, who retrieved the map, which in turn led us to the southern outpost.”
Water gained a new level of appreciation for Mind, and his gift for strategy. He’d seen what Water had not, and recognized the unseen hand of their adversary. Water then recalled Serak’s smile when they fled.
“This doesn’t feel like Wylyn is pulling the strings,” Water said slowly. “I think Serak was the one that orchestrated our coming south.”
“If he truly has been watching us for so long, he has his own plans,” Mind said.
Fire scowled. “We should have killed her.”
“Do you mean Wylyn now?” Lira asked. “Or do you still speak of me?”
Fire stared at her, and then looked into the trees. “I’m sorry I accused you,” he muttered.
“You got an apology out of Fire,” Water said. “Well done.”
“I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong,” Fire said, obviously stung.
“I’m still waiting for an apology for when you singed my eyebrows off,” Water said. “Both times.”
Fire grinned. “That was Light.”
Water shook his head in amusement and glanced to Lira, but she did not seem to be offended. Fire’s temper was always close to the surface, but Fire trusted Mind. Lira settled back into her seat and nodded to Fire, a subtle acknowledgement of his apology.
“The question is, what do we do next?” Elenyr asked.
“We enforced the treaty,” Mind said, his voice distant, as if he were examining the events of the conflict through the lens of larger tactics, “And we learned a great deal about Wylyn.”