Wyrmspire (Realm Keepers Book 2)

by Garrett Robinson

  A roar of wings on the air preceded a crash as Blackscale landed before us. His legs flexed to absorb the brunt of the impact. I wondered briefly how much he weighed—it had to be hundreds of tons.

  “For your protection from those to whom humans are unwelcome, I will walk with you,” he rumbled. I could feel the deep bass of his voice in my chest.

  “Thank you,” I said, nodding. “We’ll try to stick close to you.”

  “Not too close,” said Blackscale. The scales on his face stirred, and he showed his teeth. Was he smiling? “Long is my tail and wide its sweep.”

  “Right, of course,” I said. “Not too close.”

  Blackscale began to climb, his claws thundering as they sank into the ground. I watched as he reached the road, and to my surprise his claws didn’t even scratch the stones. Was he restraining himself because he didn’t want to damage them? Or was the road that strong?

  “Come on,” I said, spurring my own horse. The others hurried forward. The road had looked narrow from far away, but once we reached it I could see how wide it was. The thing had to be a hundred feet from railing to railing, leaving plenty of space even for Blackscale. The ground fell away, and soon there were sheer cliffs falling away on either side of the road. That made me a little nervous, but those cliffs were still dozens of yards away. I turned my eyes ahead again, determined not to think about the drops. Blackscale’s tail swung lazily back and forth as he walked, nearly reaching the road’s edges.

  “I see what he meant about following too close,” said Miles. “One smack from that tail and we’d be toast.”

  The road curved back and forth, following the path of the ridge. That, plus the clouds just a hundred feet above, made me feel like we were climbing into heaven itself. The view grew more and more spectacular with every step, and despite not wanting to think about how high we were, I couldn’t help but look out to the north.

  Blackscale spoke suddenly, his deep voice rumbling back toward us. “The clouds bless us this day by hiding our approach. We will face no others until the arch.”

  What arch? I wondered.

  Raven tugged her reins gently, and her horse sidestepped closer to mine. “Sarah, what’s going to happen to us if the dragons don’t appreciate us asking for help?” she whispered.

  I kept my eyes forward, resisting the urge to swallow. “I don’t know, exactly.”

  “You don’t think this is a little dangerous?” she said, agitated.

  “I don’t know, Raven. I left my dragon negotiation manual back in Morrowdust. You always forget to pack something, right?”

  “I’m not kidding here,” said Raven. “I mean, I knew they were dragons, but…these things are huge. Way bigger than the things you see in movies.”

  “You want to turn around?” I said, shrugging. “Ride back to Morrowdust, even though Terrence and the armies of Chaos know we’re here now? After coming all this way?”

  “We didn’t come all this way knowing that most of the dragons hate us,” Raven snapped. “Greystone sort of forgot to mention that.”

  “Greystone didn’t know,” I said. “How could he? No one’s seen a dragon in forever.”

  “Right, so now we’ve seen them, and fully one-third of the dragons we’ve seen so far want to eat us. What if the rest of them feel that way?”

  “They’d let us go, wouldn’t they?” Tess’ voice on my other side shocked me. I hadn’t seen her draw closer. “I mean, they wouldn’t kill us just for asking for help, would they?”

  “You tell me,” Raven said darkly. “They don’t seem like the forgiving type. Even Blackscale smacked the other one and chucked him, like, a mile. One love tap like that would kill all of us.”

  “Blackscale’s going to protect us,” I insisted. “He gave his word.”

  “Look, he’s decent for a dragon,” Raven said. “We just need to be ready to fight our way out if we have to.”

  Thoom.

  Blackscale’s claw hit the ground, and he stopped. We reined in our horses. Cara gave me a worried look.

  Blackscale’s body was so long that his head was almost lost in the clouds. But it grew abundantly clear as it swiveled toward us, slithering along the length of his body as he turned nearly all the way around.

  “Our ears never sleep, and they are finer than a sharpened claw,” he rumbled. His eyes met mine, then swiveled back and forth across our group. “Careless your words fall from your lips, and that is a dangerous thing upon Wyrmspire.”

  Raven tried to keep her composure, but I saw her hands shaking. “You heard me?”

  Blackscale motioned upward with his snout. “Nightclaw and Stormcloud could hear you. To me, a thunderclap was quieter than your words.”

  “Ah,” said Raven. “Well, so what?”

  Blackscale’s head snapped to point at her. “What she means,” I said hastily, “is that we’re not sure she’s wrong. What if the others feel like Stormcloud? Will we be safe?”

  “Safe?” Blackscale drew out the s. “Safe? Safety for mouslings is not to be found within a hundred leagues of the mountain. And if you come to blows with my kin, you will not escape with your lives. But pledge have I given, and pledge will I uphold.”

  “You can guarantee our safety, then?” said Raven. “You can promise you won’t let them hurt us?”

  Blackscale’s head cocked slightly, and his eyes narrowed. “Such strange words I hear in your speech. How do guarantee and promise, differ from my pledge?”

  I nodded. “That’s good enough for me. And I promise that we’ll watch what we say from now on.”

  “See that you do.” He turned away and headed up once more. I spurred my horse to follow.

  “What were you two talking about?” said Calvin, his whisper muted in the dead air of the cloud. “Will you stop getting us in trouble?”

  I ignored him, but Blade didn’t. “

  The air began to clear. I caught glimpses of the blue sky above.

  “We’re coming out of the cloud,” I said.

  “Yeah, into the house of the dragons,” said Miles. “Whoopee.”

  From the mists, a shape appeared. It was huge, bigger than Blackscale with his wings fully outstretched. Soon I could see that it was a stone arch. Beyond it there was a massive wide expanse, all in the same white stone as the road. It was like an arena, except it didn’t slope up and there were no seats. Around the edge of the space, the bones of the mountain jutted up into the air, forming a wall.

  As soon as we reached the arch, the clouds died away. The air around us was clear in the daylight. I could see the mountain’s peak stretching away into the heavens, much closer now.

  Around it circled hundreds of dragons. They varied in size, and the green of their scales went from pale to dark. Then disappeared and reemerged from holes in the mountainside. They perched on high cliffs and outcrops overlooking the land all around. It reminded me of a beehive or a flock of birds swooping around a favorite perch. None of them seemed to be looking at us.

  That didn’t last very long.

  Blackscale stopped just on the other side of the arch. I reined in my horse and had to restrain myself from looking at the others. What was he doing?

  Blackscale raised himself up. His wings unfolded with a sound like crinkling leather, and he raised his head into the sky.

  “I am Blackscale,” he pronounced. “Son of Windwalker. Father to Stonefoot. Elder of the fourth high family of Wyrmspire.”

  His voice was louder than a war horn. Dragons paused in the sky, making sharp turns and flocking toward us.

  “Um, Sarah?” said Miles.

  “Stay calm,” I said. “We’re with Blackscale.”

  I hoped that counted for something.

  “Runegard, keep a close hand on your weapons,” said Cara in a low voice.

  “Don’t!” I said. “Don’t touch them. We don’t want to do anything to set them off. They’re not trying to hurt us.”

  And it was true. The dragons descended upon the high s
tone walls that surrounded the plateau, their claws sinking deep into the rock. Their necks craned to get a look at us. Their slitted eyes narrowed, and some of them bared their teeth.

  “They may not be attacking, but they don’t look pleased to see us, either,” said Raven.

  “Just stay calm,” I said.

  The dragons grew more agitated with every passing second. Just as I was beginning to question our inaction, Blackscale spoke again.

  “Guests I bring, humans under my care,” he said. His voice held the same carrying tone as before. “Their safety has been pledged. Should any harm befall them by tooth or claw, honor binds me to stain the sacred rock of Wyrmspire with the blood of that dragon’s heart. They are the Realm Keepers of the kingdoms of men to the far West.”

  “Um, hello?” muttered Blade. “What are the Runegard, chopped liver?”

  “Quiet,” I hissed.

  “Beneath the arch the Realm Keepers shall pass in peace to seek council,” continued Blackscale. “The laws of old, ancient even in my youth, bid us to give it.”

  A chorus of roars answered him. I barely stopped myself from fleeing down the road. I couldn’t tell whether the dragons spoke in approval or anger.

  Blackscale’s massive head swiveled around to us. “Follow with all speed,” he said, his voice dropping to a dragon’s version of a murmur. “And by the Spire, do not lay a hand on your weapons or bring forth magic if you wish to survive.” Then he walked across the plateau, his steps now hurried compared to his gait up the road.

  “Come on,” I said. “Before the dragons decide how they feel about us.”

  “I’m all for it,” said Calvin. “Let’s ride.”

  Our horses’ hooves made sharp clacking noises on the white stone as we followed Blackscale in a rush. I was surprised at how docile the horses were. I was ready to vomit, I was so scared. Maybe the horses had never smelled anything like dragons before, and didn’t know they should be afraid.

  A roar of air flung me from my thoughts. There was a crash as another dragon landed in front of Blackscale. It was a bit smaller, and its scales a much lighter shade of green.

  “Let us pass, brother,” said Blackscale.

  “Human feet upon Wyrmspire? You bring them to our sacred home?” growled the new dragon.

  “Not just humans, Bloodtooth. The Realm Keepers,” said Blackscale. “Recognition is their due, by law.”

  “Recognition?” roared Bloodtooth. “Since humans came to the Spire, how many years have passed? Since the Realm Keepers of old brought the Schism with their hubris, how many centuries?”

  “And do those Realm Keepers stand before you now?” said Blackscale. “Was the Schism the doing of those with me?”

  Calvin leaned over. “Um…the answer to that is no, right?”

  “Shut up, Calvin,” I whispered.

  “Ancient I name your laws, decrepit and doddering,” said Blackscale. “Relics of a bygone era, a time best forgotten.”

  CRASH!

  Blackscale leapt forward like a striking cobra, one of his claws wrapping around Bloodtooth’s throat. Bloodtooth yelped as Blackscale bore him to the ground. In a flash, Blackscale’s rear claws hovered over his brother’s belly, ready to eviscerate. His tail wrapped around Bloodtooth’s hind legs to prevent him from striking.

  The dragons above broke forth with screaming roars. There thunder of wings sounded again, and I flinched from the sky. But as the dragon landed, I recognized the spiraling scales around its neck: Nightclaw. She glared up at the cliffs around us, forming a barrier with her wings.

  “Relics?” roared Blackscale. “Ancient and doddering? What of the laws that forswear kinslaying? Do they seem outmoded to you now, brother?”

  Bloodtooth gave one last jerk, then slumped in submission. “I do not speak of all the laws. Only those that hinder the Spire.”

  “They are the same laws, wrought in the same stone by the same claws!” said Blackscale. “And they have kept the Spire safe since our father’s father hatched. How dare you desecrate their memory? How dare you cast aside the word of our ancestors?”

  “I do not cast them aside, only the humans!” said Bloodtooth.

  “Plot harm to them at your peril,” growled Blackscale. “I have pledged my honor to their safety, and that supplants the protection of blood. Death awaits you if you bare a fang at them.”

  Blackscale pushed himself off Bloodtooth and stood, backing off to let his brother stand. Bloodtooth took a couple of steps backward, his eyes still fixed on Blackscale’s in baleful rage.

  “I know not what you plot with these humans, but it will come to ruin,” said Bloodtooth. “Blood will spill ere their visit ends. Will it be their blood, or wyrm’s blood?”

  With a roar of wind, Bloodtooth launched himself into the sky and was gone.

  “Come,” said Blackscale. “Others will hesitate now that they have seen my resolve, but I would not trust that to last.”

  Nightclaw uncurled herself from around us, leaving us free to follow. I looked up, trying to catch her eye.

  “Thank you, Nightclaw,” I said.

  Her head ducked in the briefest of nods before she took to the air to land on one of the stone walls above.

  “So that Bloodtooth dragon was Blackscale’s brother?” said Blade. “Talk about a dysfunctional family unit.”

  “Is this not, like, the coolest freaking thing ever?” said Calvin. “I mean…I mean, dragons, guys! Come on! Holy crud!”

  “I would be more excited if they did not constantly seem to want to eat us,” said Cara grumpily.

  Calvin waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, that. Well, whatever.”

  “Well, whatever?” said Raven. “That’s not a ‘well, whatever’ statement. That’s a, ‘you’re right, let’s get the heck out of here’ statement.”

  Calvin stuck his tongue out. “I’m not letting you drag my mood down. Do you know how long I’ve dreamed about seeing a real live dragon?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Probably somewhere between your whole life and forever.”

  Calvin snapped his fingers. “Exactly.”

  We hurried after Blackscale, now keeping a constant eye on the dragons above. Some of them seemed intrigued by the spectacle we’d created. I saw others bow their heads as we passed. But the majority of them had their lips drawn back to bear their long, sharp fangs.

  Thank God we ran into Blackscale and not one of these others, I thought to myself.

  You may thank Destiny, not your deity, Meridia said in my mind. I wished she was good for something besides making snarky comments. I grit my teeth, determined to ignore her.

  Your frustration is hilarious.

  “Blackscale,” I said. “Why do most of them seem so angry at us? What is the Schism exactly?”

  This time Blackscale turned his head fully around, staring at me. “You came to the Spire without knowledge of the Schism?”

  I shrugged. “Our history is kind of sketchy on what exactly happened. It was a long time ago, and we don’t live as long as you do.”

  “How could you lose the knowledge of it? It was nearly the ending of you.”

  I gulped. “Um…I did not know that.”

  Blackscale shook his head. “It is not a tale for now. If I can, I shall tell you more later. If the Council has spared your lives.”

  “Whoah, what?” said Raven. “I thought you said we were safe with you.”

  “You are, to a point,” said Blackscale. “But I am only one upon the Council. There are four others. None but myself can I vouch for.”

  “Great,” I muttered. Cara gave me a significant look. But I had to believe that the dragons would listen to reason. Otherwise, this whole journey was for nothing.

  We reached a break in the stone wall at the plateau’s edge. It led to a gentle slope our horses could climb easily. The slope lead up to another rocky wall in the mountain's side. In the rock was carved an empty doorway.

  Behind us I heard the roaring of air as dragons took off
from their stony perches. They began to circle in the sky above us. Some of them swung dangerously low, the wind of their passing buffeting us as we rode. The others looked up nervously, and I saw Raven’s hand twitch.

  “No magic,” I warned. “We’re almost to that doorway. It’ll be better inside.”

  I hoped I was right.

  Blackscale stepped through the doorway into the mountain, and we followed. The room was huge—oval, like the great hall in the Runehold, but magnified to dragon size. There was no roof above us. The walls had massive windows, big enough for dragons to fly in and out, and long stone ridges lined the walls. Dragons flew in through the windows and down from the open sky above, landing on the stone to watch us walk by.

  At the opposite end of the hall there were five stone perches. Even for dragons, they seemed massive. They were arranged in a semicircle facing the door, so that dragons sitting upon them could watch any visitors that came in.

  Then I noticed something on the ground before the pillars. Chairs. Five of them, like the pillars, and also arranged in a semicircle.

  But they weren’t just any chairs. They were golden chairs.

  Golden chairs just like in the Runehold in Morrowdust. And in Linsfell, and Kirsch—anywhere there was a Runehold.

  “What the—” I said.

  “Those chairs…” said Miles.

  THOOM.

  The ground beneath me shook as a dragon settled on the central perch. Blackscale was the biggest dragon we’d seen so far, but this new one dwarfed him. It was so massive, its legs barely fit on the perch’s huge top. Its scales were so dark they were nearly black—the marker scales on its face were black, and they shone in the fading sunlight like polished ebony.

  The dragon shifted itself, adjusting for comfort, then settled its bulk on the stone. It raised its head shakily, sticking its neck out to watch as we approached. Every movement was slow. Each time it adjusted its claws, they shook slightly.

  This dragon was old—even for a dragon, which meant that I couldn’t have guessed at its age. If Blackscale had been around since humans still came to Wyrmspire, how much longer had this dragon been alive?

  Blackscale kept moving forward until he stood before the pillars. He settled down on his haunches and lowered his head, touching his snout to the ground and pinning his wings back against his body. It was the same dragon bow he’d given us at the cave.