Wyrmspire (Realm Keepers Book 2)

by Garrett Robinson

  To my surprise, Wingstone spoke up. “For what purpose is a scrying chair placed here?” he said. “When there are five within the Council chamber, what need could there be for one in this room?”

  “This is a meeting room for Realm Keepers,” I said. “The scrying chairs all connect to each other. This must be so that, when the Realm Keepers met here, they could talk to the dragons that were stationed all across the world. It was for planning, just like it was back home. Otherwise they’d have to fly back and forth from the Council chamber every time they wanted to find stuff out for their plans.”

  We moved on to the other rooms. The next one we checked was actually split into seven rooms inside, and each sub-room was a modest living space. They were clearly for the Realm Keepers, and one extra for the Watcher. The next door was a training room just like the ones we had in the Runehold back home. Ancient weapons lined the racks, long gone to rust. Some of them had rotted so badly that they had fallen to the floor, making the place one big opportunity for tetanus.

  The final room looked like a library. Row after row of shelving contained books and scrolls stacked into dusty piles. The shelves blocked the light reflecting off the walls, creating a gloomy feel. Motes of dust floated in the sparse sunbeams that managed to spear their way through the cracks and gaps in the bookcases.

  “It’s just like the Runehold back home,” I muttered.

  “What, this? I never saw anything like this,” said Miles.

  “Um, hello? The library? Where Greystone showed us the map?” I looked at him incredulously.

  “Oh,” said Miles. “Right. Well, we only went there once.”

  “You, maybe,” I said. “I was in there every chance I got. The place was amazing.”

  Miles’ brow furrowed. “But you couldn’t even read the books.”

  “I don’t need to read them,” I sighed. “I just wanted to look at them.”

  Miles rolled his eyes. “Right.”

  Something was tugging at the back of my mind. Some thought that wanted to make itself known. But no matter how I dug around for it, it was just out of sight. This library. The Runehold. Something.

  “Let’s check it out,” I said, stepping further into the room.

  “Calvin, what are we going to do here?” said Miles, sighing. “We can’t read anything. I get that this is, like, your nerd fantasy or whatever, but aren’t we here on business?”

  “Well, this is the last room in the temple,” I said. “Where do you want to go? Back to Nightclaw’s nest, waiting until the Council convenes and the dragons decide whether or not to eat us?”

  Miles gave a quick glance over his shoulder at the door. “No, I guess not,” he muttered.

  “Right then,” I said. “Let’s see if there’s anything to see.”

  Wingstone followed close on our heels as we wandered the lines of shelves together. Everything was covered in dust so thick it made me sneeze every few seconds. I picked a scroll off the shelf and unfurled it. Of course, I couldn’t understand it. But then I noticed something odd.

  “Wingstone, what language is this?” I held the scroll up to the dragon. He barely glanced at it before looking at me.

  “Draconic, of course, Keeper.”

  “Huh,” I said, looking at it. “I guess that figures. It’s different from the language of the scrolls and books back in Morrowdust.”

  “Oh, come on,” said Miles. “You can tell a difference? They’re all just scribbles.”

  “Yeah, sure, but they’re different scribbles,” I said. “You’re telling me you honestly can’t tell the difference between something written in Russian and something written in Japanese back home?”

  Miles’ lips drew together in a thin line. “Okay, but this is more like Japanese and Chinese. They look close enough to me.”

  “No, they’re completely different,” I insisted. “Different characters. Different flow. There’s no punctuation on these scrolls that I can see, but the ones in Morrowdust all have the things we’re used to; periods and commas and stuff.”

  Miles sighed and moved on further down the shelf. “If you say so, man. I can’t tell a difference.”

  I sighed and placed the scroll back on the shelf. But just as I was about to release it, I paused.

  “Miles,” I said. “Take a look at this.”

  Miles stopped and looked at me, arching an eyebrow. He came back slowly, and I pulled the scroll back off the shelf.

  On the wall behind the bookshelf, there was some kind of carving in the stone wall. It was carved deep into the rock, but I couldn’t make out the shape. It extended above the shelf the scroll was on, and far below it as well.

  “What is it?” said Miles.

  “You think I know?” I said.

  “Let’s clear some of this stuff off,” he said. “See if we can see more.”

  “Let’s just move the shelf,” I said. I turned to Wingstone beside us. “Wingstone, you think you can move this?”

  Wingstone glanced at the bookshelf nervously. “I…am not sure that I should. I do not wish to disturb this place. It is ancient, and it bears much wisdom.”

  “Oh, come on,” I said, a pleading tone creeping into my voice. “If you don’t move it for us, I’m just going to have to unload the whole shelf and move it anyways. Same result, but it’ll take way longer.”

  Wingstone gave the bookshelf another dubious glance. Then, with a sigh, he stepped forward and sank into a low crouch. The long claws at the end of his fingers dug into the wood as he wrapped his hands around the lower shelves.

  With a terrible screech of wood on stone, the bookshelf slid out from the wall a good three feet. Wingstone backed up and repeated the process. Soon there was plenty of space to step around the bookshelf and see the carving.

  It was tall, stretching from floor to ceiling. It was also wide; both edges of it disappeared behind the shelves to either side. But I could see enough to get the gist. Before us, in the space we could see, stood four humans and four dragons. The humans bore insignia on their belts that I recognized: the signs of Earth, Air, Fire and Water. Another human figure half-hidden to the side told me what I already knew. There were six figures in the carving in total, not just the four that we could see.

  “The Realm Keepers,” I said. “And their dragon allies.”

  The Realm Keepers looked funny. They were standing tall with their arms stretching straight up. Above them stood the dragons, roaring into the sky. From the hands of the Realm Keepers poured their elements. The elements cascaded around the dragons’ head, soaring past them and into the sky.

  Dominating all of it, though, were four huge rents. They were an inch wide and about four inches deep, and they crossed the carving from the bottom left corner to the top right, disappearing behind the adjacent bookshelf.

  “Are they fighting them?” said Miles.

  “No, they’re friends,” I said. “Look. The dragons are far behind them. I guess this is supposed to show the alliance between the Realm Keepers and the dragons. But it’s got to mean something else, too. I mean, they could have put this carving anywhere. They didn’t have to hide it behind a bookshelf.”

  “What are those big scratches?” said Miles.

  Before I could answer, Wingstone stepped up. He reached out with one of his hands. He spread his fingers, his claws splaying out into a spiked pattern. He placed the claws in the four rents across the wall. They were a perfect fit.

  “Done by an earthbound dragon’s hand,” said Wingstone.

  “And a girl,” I said. “There’s only four of them.”

  “Whatever this carving was supposed to be, somebody didn’t like it,” said Miles. “Maybe this was Redwing.”

  “No way, unless she’s much older than we thought,” I said. “Look at the scratches. They’re worn by time. It takes a long, long time for stone to look like that without constantly being touched or worn down, and no one’s been in here for centuries.”

  “So who, then?” said Miles.


  “I don’t know,” I said softly. Again, there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that wouldn’t go away.

  A sudden chorus of sound split the air in the temple. Lost in my thoughts, I nearly jumped clean out of my skin. Wingstone’s head whirled to the doorway. Miles looked at me nervously, and I looked back at him.

  “What was that?” said Miles.

  Wingstone must have thought Miles was talking to him. “The roars of our sentries,” he said. “Someone is raising the alarm.”

  “Alarm?” I said. “Alarm for what?”

  Wingstone looked at us, his scaly face unreadable. “The alarm for an attack. Someone marches upon the Wyrmspire.”

  PRONOUNCEMENT

  SARAH

  I STOOD ON THE CLIFF outside Nightclaw’s nest looking north. Even though the midday sun was shining down upon us, I felt chilly as summer’s winds blew through my hair, frozen by the long trek up the mountain from the endless ranges below us.

  “What is it, Sarah?” asked Tess. Her voice was barely more than a whisper beside me.

  I didn’t know how to answer her. As soon as the alarms had been sounded, I’d run to the cliff. All I could see was a dark smudge against the horizon, impossibly far away. It had to be, what? One hundred? Two hundred miles?

  But deep in my heart, I thought I knew what it was. Thought, or feared. It didn’t make much difference now.

  Nightclaw loomed over us, her keen eyes fixed in the same direction as mine. I glanced up at her. “Can you see anything? Your eyes are a whole heck of a lot better than ours.”

  Nightclaw dipped her snout to look at me. “And yet not much more use now. All I see is blackness.”

  Blackness to swallow the world, I thought.

  Oh, don’t be so depressing, said Meridia in my head.

  I glanced down at the leather pouch on my belt. It now held not only my runestone and the golden scale that Cloudsplitter had given me, but the golden ring that carried Meridia. When Blade had flung it from the cliff and Tess had retrieved it, I knew I had to keep it around. But that didn’t mean I had to wear it.

  What can you tell me about this? I asked in my mind. Is Terrence coming here part of the plan?

  Everything is part of the plan, said Meridia. The question you should be asking is whether it is a boon or a hindrance for your plans, which are the only ones you care about. Typical human.

  I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore her tone. Is this a danger to us? Is Terrence going to attack Wyrmspire?

  He would be very foolish to do so, said Meridia. Terrence is many things, but he is not foolish.

  “Hey!”

  I jerked in surprise and looked up. Calvin was rocketing down toward us with Miles’ arms wrapped around his chest. Above us, another dragon flew close by: Wingstone. Calvin and Miles slowed as they neared the ground before coming to a gentle landing. Miles stepped away quickly, his movements looking wobbly.

  “No more flying for me any time soon, thanks,” he muttered.

  “What’s the alarm?” said Calvin.

  “We don’t know yet,” I said. “Blackscale went to go check it out.”

  “He’s flying all the way out there?” said Calvin, gawking.

  I rolled my eyes. “No, of course not. He went to go find out why the alarm was being sounded. From the scouts, or whatever.”

  Calvin nodded sheepishly. “Ah. Right. That’s just what I would have done.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look important.

  I ignored him as the thunderous roar of wings above preceded Blackscale landing beside us. I went to him immediately, and he lowered his head to speak to me face-to-face.

  “Were you able to find out what it was?” I asked.

  Blackscale hummed, the rumble building somewhere deep in his chest. “I was. It is an army. They are upon the very borders of our lands.”

  “What kind of army?” I said, though I was afraid I already knew the answer.

  “Something we have not seen in many a long year,” said Blackscale. “Some are human. Others are not. Chaos marches beside them.”

  My heart sank in my chest like a stone. Terrence was here. Here with all the armies he could muster. Not only Shadows, but men who were under his sway.

  “Well…crud,” said Blade.

  “Double crud,” muttered Miles.

  I turned to them. “Okay. Number one priority: if Terrence attacks here, we join in the defense—”

  “Here?” said Blackscale. “But they will not come here.”

  My brow furrowed as I looked at him. “You said they were marching across your borders.”

  “I said they were upon our borders,” said Blackscale. “They do not come any closer. Nor will they.”

  “They’re holding back,” said Calvin. “They know that this is where the dragons live. And they know that if they come too close, you will destroy them. So they’re waiting.”

  “Waiting for us to leave,” I said, finishing the thought. “So that they can catch us on the road between here and Morrowdust.”

  Blackscale’s head dipped. “Such seems to be their plan. It is a coward’s tactic.”

  “It’s Terrence,” I said, spitting the words.

  Miles looked at me, his face blanched with fear. “Sarah, what are we going to do?”

  I realized that my teeth were grinding in anger without me even thinking about it. “I don’t know, but I can tell you this. If the Council votes with us, Terrence won’t stand a chance.”

  “Yeah,” said Blade. “But what if they don’t?”

  I didn’t know how to answer him.

  I ducked at the roar of wings above us, then recoiled as I saw Bloodtooth land a few dozen yards away. His lips were pulled back from his teeth.

  “Brother,” said Blackscale, a thick menace underlying his words. “Why do rumors reach me of your attack upon the Realm Keepers? Would you dare violate the vow of protection I offered them?”

  “You offered,” said Bloodtooth, his smile fixed to his face. “I did not. And I attacked no one. I flew freely in the skies of our mountain. Does the presence of these humans mean that I may no longer roam Wyrmspire as I wish? Are we meant to be subservient to them?”

  Blackscale growled, and I saw his claws scratch across the rock beneath his feet. “Why have you come? If you have business, have done with it and be gone.”

  “The presence of this army to the North has spurred the Council to action,” said Bloodtooth. “Longtooth has called for the Council to convene.”

  Blackscale glanced back at us. “To vote? When?”

  “Immediately.” Bloodtooth’s grin grew wider for a moment, and then he launched himself into the sky. In seconds he was a black dot spiraling far above.

  Blackscale turned to us. “We must go to the great hall immediately. I do not know what we can do to sway the vote one way or another now, but delaying our response to Eldest Longtooth’s summons cannot but harm our chances.”

  “I understand,” I said. I paused for a moment, wanting to ask but afraid of what the answer might be. “Blackscale, what do you think they’re going to do?”

  “I do not know,” said Blackscale heavily. “But know this—pledge has been given, and pledge will I uphold. No vote by the Council can sway me in this. You will not come to harm.”

  “I’m not too worried about that,” I said. “Only Redwing truly hates us. I’m more worried about the alliance. Without it, Athorn doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Blackscale turned his face to the North, studying the black smudge on the horizon. “I do not know, Keeper. I am sorry.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to suppress a sudden feeling of desperation. Beside me, Calvin’s head was hanging, and Tess was glancing back and forth between everyone with frightened eyes. The Runegard looked even more solemn than usual.

  Cara’s icy blue eyes were hard, and she spoke in a hushed voice—though I knew that wouldn’t help, here on Wyrmspire where the dragons could hear a mouse’s heartbeat. “L
ady Sarah, we must plan how we will break through Terrence’s army.”

  My mouth set in a firm line. “After the vote. If we have to. We might be fine.”

  I saw the doubt in her eyes and ignored it.

  Together, we all trooped along the mountain’s path to the Council chambers. Blackscale had summoned all of his relatives that had been standing guard over us. They hovered in flight above us as we walked. Part of me realized that he was keeping them nearby just in case the Council vote went worse than we thought. They were there to defend us if the Council pronounced our death. I shuddered. The last way I wanted our quest to end was with a bloody battle between dragons as we tried to escape.

  Right before we walked through the Council hall’s giant doors, I stopped short. Everyone halted behind me, and Cara gave me a questioning look.

  “All right, listen,” I said. “None of us know how this is going to go. But one thing we can’t do is have any meltdowns in front of the Council again. We’re already on thin ice, and we can’t do anything to endanger ourselves further.” I tried to give Barius and Blade a meaningful look while at the same time not singling them out. Barius remained stony, but Blade looked away, and I saw color creeping into his cheeks.

  “No matter what happens, we stick together,” I said. “Whether we leave here with an army of dragons behind us, or just the twelve of us, we’re going to figure out a way to get home. You know I won’t make promises if I don’t think I can keep them. So what I will tell you is this: we’re going to get home even if it kills us.”

  I gave a little half-smile. Blade snorted, and Calvin gave a weak grin. I saw Cara’s face relax about one iota.

  “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  We walked into the Council hall. Like last time, the walls were already lined with dragons. Unlike last time, there was no rumbling murmur of their conversation. They had already fallen into their absolute, attentive silence.

  I tried to keep my head high and my steps steady as we approached the five golden chairs. The Runegard kept close behind us, their hands never far from their hilts, and behind them the dragons walked sedately to match our much slower pace.