Rise Of The Dragon King (Book 5)

by M. R. Mathias

  When he was finished, he was exhausted, but he hadn’t had true sleep in years, so he ignored his fatigue and let the dour fill him to brimming yet again. He ordered a dozen rangers, and even an unoccupied ogre, to watch over her, and once he and Jade were flying again, he decided that Aikira had a fair chance of not being crippled, but she had no chance of being the old agile Aikira again. It was miraculous that little Rikky Camille had healed her enough to be toted this far.

  Rikky’s strength of will, uncanny healing ability, and easy manner made it hard to be angry at him over the fact that he was in love with Zahrellion. It pained Jenka to think about the situation, though, so he forced it out of his mind.

  Remembering Aikira’s lumpy, swollen body was enough to properly motivate him. It didn’t take long to get his thoughts back on track. He, like Clover and her dragon, wanted to end these wizards and their creatures. Jenka, though, would fly their heads back to wherever they came from and hang their bodies from the lantern poles along the docks, or dump them in the town square.

  Golden was groaning over the full truth of her bond-mate’s condition. Her emotion was so strong, the pitiful sounds of her anguish carried through the ethereal. Jenka hummed one of the songs Jade’s mamra had sung to him as she died. He wasn’t sure how he remembered such a thing, but he did. He wasn’t sure he got the tune right, but Golden hummed her sadness in with his voice until he finally saw them. Aikira used to sing all the time, and when Jade landed, the Golden was finding wisdom in the phrasings of the melody, and sound reason in the rhythm of the whole thing. Jenka was sensing them, too.

  After his dragon stilled, but before he slid out of his saddle, Jenka spoke.

  Where is Silva?

  She saw some tracks, one of the colossals left, Rikky explained. She is following them from up high.

  Golden, your wing was just nearly twisted off. Jenka said. Are you in any condition to be flying into battle against these wizards with an inexperienced rider?

  The old wyrm’s low, rumbling growl answered the question, but her ethereal voice followed with a more articulate response. Linux isss seasoned enough.

  “Seasoned enough to make a tasty snack for one of those bastards,” Rikky said out loud in his best Herald impression.

  Jenka barely heard him, but he was laughing now, despite the situation. Jenka noticed that Clover was laughing at Rikky’s remark, too, but for different reasons. She had never known Herald. Clover was also mostly naked, too, her full breasts bouncing with her movements as she strode over to the bundle she’d just thrown down from Crimzon’s saddlepack. Now she was bending over to pick up the pullover piece of armor she intended to put on.

  Out of courtesy, Jenka looked away. Crimzon looked as ornery as any fire drake ever had, with his brow plates narrowed and his long snout wrinkled in a snarl. Thin curls of infernal breath rose from his nostrils.

  Jenka glanced at the others, too. It looked as if everyone was in a mood to end this. Then his eyes found Clover again, and the curves of her body stole his thoughts.

  When Clover saw him watching, she bent over, this time adding enough arch in her back and wag in her arse to blank Jenka’s mind completely. Then her voice found his ear by way of some spell that only allowed him to hear her.

  We will avenge Aikira first, she said simply.

  Aye, we will, Jenka agreed.

  “Silva is almost back,” Rikky said aloud. “She thinks she knows where one of them went, but the tracks are a day old or more.”

  I wonder if she saw any human prints along the trail? Jenka said into the ethereal.

  “She only saw sign of a single colossal, but we have four,” Rikky said, his voice betraying the depth of his worry. “We need five dragons with five riders, don’t we? That’s what the song says it takes to defend the realm, right?”

  “The poem is made up.” Clover eased into their immediate proximity, lacing and fastening her shimmering girdle over and around the mail that dangled from her pullover shoulder armor. She was looking at Rikky as if he were dense, but the idea of not having their full strength of numbers was a concern for Jenka as well.

  “Made up?” Linux let loose a short, sarcastic snort.

  “I thought it was written around the Hazeltine’s prophecy,” Rikky said.

  “It was intended to reach your ears and help you be prepared.”

  “Prepared for the Confliction, Rikky,” Jenka said. “We don’t need five dragons for a stranded guild of sorcerers and some creatures they created.”

  “Never underestimate a wizard,” Clover said, and then before anyone could say anything else, she added, “Any wizard.” After a brief silence, she stepped over and gave Rikky a pat on the shoulder. “Crimzon and I count as at least two Dragoneers, so you’ve nothing to worry about.”

  Jenka eyed Clover and the huge fire drake lying across the field behind her. They were no doubt a stronger combination than Marcherion and Blaze; they were older and far wiser, too. But the truth was, the Dragoneers were missing more than March and Blaze, for Aikira was badly injured, and Zahrellion and Crystal were gone, too.

  “I suppose it is time to make a plan.” Linux moved nearer to Jenka. Rikky and Clover followed the druid’s lead and gathered in as well.

  Jenka cast forth his map spell and highlighted exactly where they were, then Rikky used his dragon’s senses to show them all where she’d seen the tracks.

  It was at that very moment, when they were all staring at a slightly illuminated rendition of the Mainland topography and concentrated on trying to figure where a colossal could hide, that both of the remaining malformed beasts popped right into their proximity from seemingly nowhere.

  With the overwhelming advantage of surprise, the wizards had brought the fight right to them. And none of them, save for Jenka, even had a chance to get themselves clear of that first barrage of deadly sorcery.

  Part IV

  “NEVER UNDERESTIMATE A WIZARD. ANY WIZARD. EVER.” - CLOVER

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Rikky thought it was his end, but Clover managed to cast forth some sort of shielding that saved him. As soon as he could think, he started calling Zahrellion through the ethereal. He channeled his call through his dragon tear and used every ounce of his strength of will to let his voice carry to her.

  I love you, he said. This might be our end.

  Rise now, Rikky, Silva’s calming voice came to him. Levitate, and do it quickly.

  Rikky followed his dragon’s instruction, almost letting her control his body through their bond-link. His whole life had just flashed before his eyes, and he was amazed that he wasn’t dead.

  When his rise subsided and he started to slowly fall back toward the ravaged earth below, Silva was suddenly there, her back sliding under his legs, her strength and power carrying him forward through the sky.

  The shielding wall Clover had thrown up saved Rikky and Linux from the brunt of the initial spell thrown by the monster-riding magi. There was a heartbeat of silence before the next mass of force trying to crush them to a pulp was pressing down on them. In that brief instance, Linux charged out of her shielding and into the roiling dust and matter beyond. Rikky, though, covered his ears and looked as if he were praying.

  Clover waited until the second blast subsided and then half-charged, half-willed herself across the unprotected high grass to mount her dragon. These wizards couldn’t know the power of a dragon tear, at least not until Rikky had used two of them to heal Aikira in their hideout. She wondered why they were not afraid of them. Now that the dragons were taking to the sky, they would have total advantage. She felt as if this attack were nothing more than a distraction, and wondered if the crazy-looking wizard who pulled all the strings was even among them.

  She saw Rikky levitate straight up out of the smoldering ruin, and then his dragon went gliding slowly by right under him. The second he dropped into the saddle, Silva started undulating higher in a spiraling climb.

  Just as Clover was situated and Crimzon b
egan his leap, one of the colossals came charging right at them. It had been nearly impossible to see, as it was the same color as all the dust swirling around them. Crimzon launched himself, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid being gored by one of its horns.

  Clover was nearly thrown from her saddle when her wyrm’s momentum jerked taut, but she held on. The spell she was throwing went wide, though, missing her mark and allowing one of the wizards she now saw on foot to hit her with a hot fist of energy that would have scorched her raw were she not as fire-blooded and heat-craving as the dragon she rode.

  It did singe her strawberry hair, which made her seethe. She allowed Crimzon to yank free of the beast’s horn and snap at it. His huge jaws forced his fangs in deep, and he was just heavy and strong enough to hold his bulk in place while slinging the creature over on its side. Golden swept by and melted the creature’s rider and a good portion of its skin with her liquid molten spew. Then Linux sent down a spell that caused a huge, blue-colored inferno to erupt around its head. The hissing, popping sound of the druid fire was succulent to Clover and her wyrm, and Crimzon limped over to it, climbed right into the middle of the scorching heat, and let out a roar of dominance.

  Crimzon scratched one long, terrible furrow down the floundering creature’s side, then another. When it tried to roll to its feet, he bit down, and then twisted its neck until it crunched.

  Jenka, Clover called out across the ethereal. Jenka, sense where the crazy bastard is. He isn’t here. I’d wager this is just a distraction, at best.

  She saw that Golden was trying to drench the other colossal now, but she didn’t see Jenka and Jade anywhere. She was suddenly searching the pummeled earth where the initial strike had happened. Not seeing any sign of them was better than the other option.

  North- and- west-, Jenka finally said. I am going to--

  Just then, the earth quaked; it was enough of a shift that it threw the dragons out of their senses for a moment, but they easily righted themselves when it was over.

  Now, though, there was a two-hundred-foot-tall version of the strange wizard standing there among the flying wyrms, and he was grinning triumphantly.

  “We have achieved our goal here, brothers,” he said in a booming voice. “The battle is over.”

  “How so? Who are you?” Rikky Camille yelled at the apparition from Silva’s back. His dragon was hovering at head height to the wizard’s casting, and he was still looking down around him at the few wizards on foot, and the other colossal.

  “I am Dakterra Pyane. To put it simply, we have spelled your water supply into poison, and only I have the inoculation to survive it. Your people will fester with pocks and seep the disease into the very air around them. Their bodies will slowly turn to fluid. And it will only take a few months to liquefy any who do not take the inoculation.”

  He’s bluffing, Linux warned through the ethereal.

  No, he’s not. Clover knew. She always knew when someone was bluffing, and this wizard was as sure of himself as any man ever had been. Then she saw a dragon tear dangling at his neck, one that appeared ten times as large as hers because of the illusion’s current proportions.

  “Thatsss is mine,” Crimzon hissed aloud.

  You’re sure? she asked.

  Yesssss.

  And Clover knew it to be true, for she’d heard rumors of it all of her life. How this numbskull had gotten hold of the little tear Crimzon had cried at his mam’s death was a mystery, but he had it, and that was almost enough to make her blood run cold.

  Jenka found the strange ceramic jars the wizard had dumped into the Strom River and estimated the time it had been since they were poured in. Lingering particles of used energy left as the wizard’s protective spells fed themselves gave away all of his movements. Jenka’s alien mind calculated the speed of the flow and the width of the river, and even scanned the forward terrain from Jade’s back as they flew south trying to get ahead of the tainted water.

  By flying at hyper-speed, it wasn’t that hard, but the only place narrow enough to block the flow was a few miles north of Demon Lake’s headwaters. Jenka understood shapeshifting now, and had tried it some on his own. It was the nature of the alien’s anatomy, and not nearly as easy for one made of bone and muscle to achieve, but Jenka could do it. Especially now that, if he didn’t, the Strom would carry its tainted fluid right into the lake that supplied most of the Mainland Frontier its water.

  Jenka, not knowing if he would be able to undo what he was about to do to himself, called out across the ethereal to Zahrellion alone.

  Make sure they know I loved them with all of my heart, as I once loved you.

  He briefly told the others what he was doing, and did it before the chance was beyond him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “What are you after?” Clover screamed at the enlarged wizard, doing her best to take in what Jenka was voicing through the ethereal at them all.

  “Yeah, what do you want?” Rikky added.

  “For each chest of gold you deliver to the ship I have taken over, I will give you enough of the inoculation to keep the people on this side of the world free of the claiming disease for a full year. For one hundred chests full of gold, you can have the cure.”

  “Where in the fargin hells are we going to get that much gold, man?” Rikky asked in a huff. “There isn’t that much gold to be had.” He looked at Clover, then at Linux, who still seemed as if he were ready to attack the remaining ill-formed colossal from Golden’s back.

  The wizard laughed, and Clover wanted to smack the younger Dragoneer. He should have never been considering making a bargain with this loon.

  “I do not care,” the wizard chuckled. “With the skills you Dragoneers possess, I imagine you can just go take it from wherever you like. There are kings in other lands with enough gold to fill the sea.”

  “You are insane—” Clover started at him, but his voice easily drowned hers out when he cut her off.

  “You have approximately ten days before your people start feeling the effects. Soon after, the claiming will spread like wildfire across your populace.” He moved his hands about as he cast another spell, and with a shimmering of fading particles, he began to sparkle away. “There will come a point when neither the inoculation, or the cure, will save them. That would be a pity.”

  And then the wizard was gone. His men, and the remaining colossal, started gathering their fallen and moving away, as if there was no threat left to them at all.

  The three dragons carried their riders to where Jenka had told them, but he didn’t respond when they hailed him through the ethereal, or with their voices. When Linux saw it, he pointed, and then they all gasped. Not one of them could speak until after they dismounted.

  “What has he done to himself?” Rikky asked Linux.

  “He’s changed his shape and blocked the flow of the river,” Linux answered. “But he won’t be able to keep it from overflowing, if we don’t divert the water.”

  “How long do you think we have?” Clover asked the druid. “Did he get the contamination?”

  “Maybe three days, if it doesn’t rain in the north.” Linux shrugged. “Knowing Jenka, he wouldn’t have dammed the whole Strom if he wasn’t sure.”

  “Crimzon has an idea, but it will take me a day or two at best to pull it off,” Clover told them. “I’ll not waste more time here. You two stay and fortify this.” She opened her arm, indicating the wide, green-tinted, scale-covered dam into which Jenka had turned himself and Jade.

  “Do not let it fail.”

  It was a nest of mudged dragons they found, and King Richard was a bit disgusted at having gotten his hopes up so high. Putting a controlling collar on something that was mad to begin with would do little good in the end. Sooner or later, the crazed inbred wyrm would turn on its rider, or rebel against the collar’s persuasion.

  Nevertheless, he nodded and grinned and encouraged King Chad to pick his wyrm so they could lure it out of the cavern and net it down.


  “That darker one,” the excited man pointed from their perch in the crags above the nest. “He’s the biggest.”

  And the most mudged, Richard thought to himself. These were not dragons; these were feral things that resembled them. They did have red speckles running down their spinal plates, and one even had some green to its undersheen, but they were mostly so dark in color as to appear black.

  There were four of them down in the bottom of the rocky crag, and they were fighting over a haunch of elk that had been under one of them while they slept. These creatures were acting solely on instinct, a wild, aggressive instinct to dominate the other and take what they wanted. Pure-blooded dragons would have reasoned out an argument over the morsel, or just went and got their own. It was an elk, and they were dragons, after all. A smart wyrm wouldn’t fight in a rocky crevice over a single bite of old food. It just wouldn’t happen.

  “You, Garth, and Victir, get some meat on the end of those ropes,” King Chad ordered. “Throw two portions down to the bottom and dangle two more halfway on the lines. Over there on that flat is where we will set out his dinner.”

  “What are you doing?” Richard asked. “Where are you going to get meat?”

  “I won’t need the litter, or the men to tote it home, Richard.” The king of Vikaria clasped him on the shoulder like a father might his son. “They swore to serve their kingdom and their king with their very lives, and right now, they would best serve me as bait.”

  Garth and Victir, two of the king’s personal guards, casually walked over and pushed their sword tips through the throats and hearts of the six men who had carried the king on their shoulders for six straight days. One of them tried to flee, but an archer shafted him three paces into his getaway.