The Dragon Empress: The Dragonspire Chronicles Book 6

by James E. Wisher

  “How goes the evacuation?” King Rend asked.

  “Almost done.” Callie and her bards had taken charge of the civilians since their magic allowed them to keep people calm and together. “Before dark we should have nothing but soldiers remaining in the city.”

  “Outstanding. I didn’t believe you could do it in a week, but I’m pleased to be proven wrong.”

  “There’s the matter of getting you out as well,” Callie said.

  The king shook his head. “I’m not abandoning my home. Such a sign of weakness would ruin me.”

  The muscles in Callie’s jaw worked as she forced herself not to argue. Moz knew how she felt, but he also knew the arrogance of the nobility. Besides, there was an underground passage out of the palace when it became necessary for them to flee. He knew exactly where it was and how all the locks worked. Even if he couldn’t get the king out, he’d damn sure get Callie to safety. He’d lost Ariel, no way was he losing anyone else he cared about.

  “Is there anything else we can do, Uncle?” King Rend asked.

  “I don’t think so, Majesty,” General Rend said. “Ordinary weapons are useless against dragons, as is magic. If the heavy weapons can’t bring whatever they send to the ground, nothing we have can.”

  The door to the war room burst open and a young man in armor clattered in. “Majesty, you must see it. In the sky. Above the city.”

  “Calm down, man, and speak clearly,” the king said.

  “Forgive me, Majesty, but a dragon has arrived in the skies over the city.”

  They all shared a look.

  “I thought we had another day,” the king said.

  “According to the message, we do,” Callie said.

  “They’re trying to intimidate us.” Moz crossed his arms and scowled. “Like when an enemy force gathers outside a besieged town before the catapults begin to fire. The Dark Sages want us scared. They want us to yield.”

  They were all staring at him. Moz shrugged. “I’m just saying. If this Lord Black sees the kingdom as part of his future empire, he isn’t going to want to burn down its largest city if he doesn’t have to. Better to scare us into doing what he wants.”

  General Rend nodded. “Had I the power to command dragons, it’s what I would do. Let’s have a look at what we’re facing.”

  “Excellent idea, Uncle.”

  The king led the way out of the war room and they tromped through back passages that would have ordinarily been crowded with servants. To his credit, the king had sent his servants out of the city along with the other noncombatants. He had low-ranking soldiers filling in for the important tasks and the rest would have to wait. Despite their differences, Moz respected his king for that decision more than any other.

  A pair of soldiers stood at attention as they approached the door to the battlements. They scrambled to unlock the door and open it so the king wouldn’t have to break stride. It was close, but the door opened with two steps to spare.

  A brisk wind sent a chill down Moz’s spine. The capital was enough further north that it was chillier than the swamp. He forgot all about the cold a moment later when a shadow passed over them.

  He craned his neck up just in time to see a two-hundred-foot-long red dragon soar over them. Its belly scales were dark as port wine and its wings cast shade over half the city as it passed. The heat radiating off of it caused the snow covering the battlements to begin to melt.

  No one spoke until it banked away to make another pass.

  Finally, the king gasped. “Gods’ mercy. I never thought it would be that big.”

  “It’s smaller than the black they commanded in the swamp,” Moz said.

  The king turned to face him. “I thought you said the girl’s dragon was only sixty feet long.”

  Moz shook his head. Did the king truly not understand? “Majesty, all the dragons are hers. She can simply choose which one she wishes to command.”

  The king stared at him for a moment then spun slowly back to watch the dragon preparing for another pass.

  “We’re doomed,” he whispered.

  Chapter 2

  “I don’t think we can go any further!” Silas shouted over the wind.

  Even though he was only five feet away in the front seat of the sleigh, Yaz could barely hear him. The storm had come up out of nowhere. When they set out from the base of the mountain up the Lost Path, the sun shone down strong and bright. The air still had a bite to it, but for the end of winter it was nice. Four thousand feet later, nice was a distant memory. Halfway up the mountain might as well have been another world.

  Yaz leaned forward. Directly ahead, a narrow, rocky trail broke off from the main pass. That had to lead to Mom’s prison. And Silas was right, no way could the sleigh make it down that narrow passage. It didn’t fly high enough to avoid the many sharp rocks. Looked like they were going on foot.

  “Get as close to the nearest rock formation as you can and we’ll lash the sleigh to it,” Yaz said. “I don’t want to come back and find it blown off the side of the mountain.”

  Silas nodded and eased the sleigh over the four-foot-high spike. Yaz leapt out and immediately sank in past his knees. Cursing the universe in general and the Dark Sages in particular, he dug a length of rope out of their supplies and tied the sleigh’s runner to the spike. The knots weren’t pretty, but barring an avalanche, at least their transport should be there when they returned.

  By the time he finished, Silas and Brigid had climbed out of the sleigh and were waiting for him. Before they set out, he needed to make sure they didn’t get separated. Yaz cut the excess rope off and tied it around his waist. He handed the rope to Brigid who followed his example then passed it on to Silas. When the wizard finished, Yaz set off into the whiteout.

  Foot by miserable, frozen foot he probed ahead with his staff before taking a step. He hugged the side of the mountain both to keep as far from the drop-off as possible and to cut a little of the wind’s sting. He couldn’t say for sure that his effort made any difference, but at least they made progress.

  Hours later, legs burning and lungs aching, Yaz looked up and saw a rectangle of black jutting up out of the snow. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, but the structure didn’t vanish into the storm. That had to be the Tower of Punishment.

  He had trouble judging its size from a distance, but at this point he didn’t care. Anything that got him out of the weather would be welcome, even an enemy prison. With the target in sight, he marched on with fresh energy. He felt certain his mother was in there. She had to be. If they’d moved her or worse…

  Yaz brutally cut that thought off. If she wasn’t here, he’d look somewhere else. That was all there was to it.

  “Is that it?” Brigid asked.

  Yaz looked up to find they were only fifty feet from the base of the tower. Up close it was smaller than he’d first thought, certainly smaller than the dragonspire. He guessed it was fifty feet tall and maybe forty feet square. It couldn’t have held more than a couple dozen prisoners if that.

  And where were the guards? The tower didn’t have a single window. The entrance was a heavy, iron-bound door. Hopefully there wasn’t a secret knock needed to gain entry.

  When they reached the door, Yaz and his companions untied themselves. Just out of curiosity, Yaz grabbed the iron ring that served as a handle and shook it. The door didn’t budge. No surprise there.

  He glanced at his friends and both nodded their readiness. Yaz raised his staff and gave the door three hard raps. After a minute of waiting he tried again, more forcefully this time.

  “I think they’re ignoring us,” Silas said.

  “No kidding. I don’t suppose you can do anything about that?”

  Silas shrugged. “My magic might ruin the door.”

  Yaz grinned. “Good.”

  Silas pulled out his amulet and began muttering a spell. Yaz might have been able to open it with his own power, but after the massacre in the swamp, he’d been reluctant to draw on the bl
ack door’s strength. Eventually that would change, but for now he was content to lean on Silas to handle the magic.

  Is if on cue, Silas slapped his hand to the door. A wave of darkness rolled out, reducing the wood to dust and the iron to rust. Beyond the door, a single room, roughly two-thirds the size of the tower itself, stood empty. No guards came running at their intrusion. A smaller door on the far wall was the room’s only notable feature.

  “Is this strange or is it me?” Brigid asked. She held her staff tight and raised as if expecting to be attacked at any moment.

  “It isn’t you,” Yaz said. “Do you sense anything inside, Silas?”

  “There’s magic in there, but nothing that feels dangerous. I can’t sense any life at all.”

  Yaz grimaced. That didn’t bode well.

  They weren’t going to learn anything out here, that was certain. He stepped across the threshold, paused, and when nothing changed or threatened him continued on to the rear door. Beyond it was a staircase leading up into the darkness.

  Silas conjured a light without being asked and they started climbing. Yet another door waited on the second-floor landing. Yaz pushed it open easily and stepped into a hall running left and right. To his left was an open door and to his right a closed one.

  There wasn’t likely to be anything in the open room, but he checked anyway. Sure enough he found only an open, empty cube. If it was supposed to be a cell, it was the most barren he’d ever seen. There wasn’t even a waste bucket.

  As they walked to the closed door Brigid asked, “Who looks after the prisoners?”

  Yaz wished he knew. The empty tower was making him nervous. He kept looking over his shoulder expecting to see someone there waiting to attack. But empty darkness was all there was.

  Yaz yanked the second door open. He caught a glimpse of a black void then a skeleton came tumbling out to shatter to pieces on the floor in front of them.

  “Gods!” Brigid jumped back.

  Yaz stared at the hips and sighed. Too narrow to be a woman’s. Whoever the poor bastard was, it wasn’t his mother.

  They hurried out and climbed to the next floor. It was a duplicate of the second only both doors were open and the rooms beyond empty.

  The fourth floor had two closed doors. Yaz opened the first and a man’s corpse tumbled out. This one still had some dried flesh hanging from its bones along with a few scraps of whatever he’d been wearing when he went in.

  He moved on to the second door. Yaz’s hand trembled as he reached for the pull. Would it be his mother’s corpse that came tumbling out this time? He refused to consider the possibility. He jerked the door open and a skull fell out, shattering at his feet.

  Brigid squeezed his arm. “There’s still one floor left.”

  So there was. The gods alone knew what horrors they’d find waiting up there.

  On the Tower of Punishment’s final floor, they found a single closed door. Yaz could barely swallow the lump in his throat. If his mother wasn’t here, he had no more leads. He had trouble deciding what would be worse, never knowing what happened to her or having her body come tumbling out of the final cell. Either would be horrible beyond imagining.

  A gentle hand touched his shoulder. “Are you ready?” Brigid asked.

  How long had he been staring, unmoving, at that final door? Long enough to make her wonder what he was thinking anyway.

  Yaz gave a full-body shake. “I’m ready. You open the door and I’ll get ready to catch her.”

  Thinking positive couldn’t do any harm. Yaz took up position directly in front of the door and braced himself. When Brigid was in position he nodded.

  She tugged the door open and a moment later his mother came tumbling out. Yaz caught her, staggered back a step, and gently lowered her to the ground. Her body felt warm in his arms and her pulse beat steadily. Thank all the watching gods, she was alive.

  Her sage’s robe had seen better days and dried blood covered her upper lip. It looked like someone punched her in the face. Whoever was responsible would pay, but not now. Now all that mattered was that she was alive.

  Yaz rubbed her hand. “Mom? Can you hear me?”

  She groaned and her eyelids fluttered. Finally she opened them and stared up at Yaz. A grin nearly split his face.

  “Hi, Mom. Are you okay?”

  “More or less. Help me sit up.” Her voice sounded rough and scratchy.

  He put a hand on her back and eased off the floor. She clutched his arm for a moment then tucked her legs under her to steady her seat.

  “I’m okay. How long have I been here?”

  “About nine months,” Yaz said. “We had an awful time finding you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Yazguard, where is he?”

  Yaz hung his head and fought back tears. It took every bit of self-control he could muster to say, “Dad’s dead. The last thing he told me was where to find you. I tried to save him, but the javelin went right through his liver and stomach. I think it might have nicked his diaphragm as well. You should have seen him, Mom. He’d lost most of his muscle and his body was covered in scars. They tortured him. But I killed them all. Slaughtered them like the animals they were.”

  His mother pulled him to her and the dam broke. Huge sobs shook Yaz from head to toe. He cried on her shoulder like a baby. All the pain and loss he’d been storing up for most of a year came spilling out.

  Yaz couldn’t have said how long she held him like that, but when at last he could think clearly he wiped his eyes. “Sorry. I’m crying like I’m the only one who lost someone.”

  “It’s okay, Yaz. I think you needed it more than I do. Are you planning to introduce me to your friends?”

  Yaz stared for a moment. He’d been so overwhelmed to find his mother, he’d forgotten all about Brigid and Silas.

  He cleared his throat. “Right, the pretty one is Brigid, she’s from the valley and has been with me since I set out. The one with the floating dragon skull is Silas, we met after getting captured by bounty hunters. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of the things I have without them. I couldn’t ask for better companions.”

  His mother looked from Brigid to Silas then said, “Thank you both for looking after my son.”

  Brigid beamed and Yaz was pretty sure Silas blushed a little.

  “Truth is,” Silas said. “Yaz saved both of us more times than we did him. I certainly would be dead many times over if not for his help.”

  “If you’re up to it,” Yaz said. “We should probably get out of here. There aren’t any guards, but who knows whether we set off a magical alarm when we broke down the door.”

  “Who could get to us here during a snow storm?” Brigid asked.

  “Someone with a flying ship,” Yaz said.

  Mom raised her eyebrow. “A flying ship?”

  Yaz chuckled. “We have a lot to talk about. Most importantly, do you know anything about the black door in the back of my mental library?”

  She shot him a sharp look. “I know you should stay away from it.”

  “Too late for that. Its power has saved our lives more than once. When Dad was killed, it even opened a crack. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

  “That’s impossible. You don’t have the key.”

  Yaz frowned. “Okay, now I’m confused. I never told you about the black door. How do you know about it at all, much less that I need a key to open it?”

  His mother let out a long sigh and forced herself to stand. “We definitely need to talk and this is as safe a place as any to do it. There’s no alarm because outside of the Dark Sages, no one knows this prison exists.”

  “So it’s true.” Yaz hadn’t wanted to believe his father, not that he imagined him lying with his dying breaths. “You were a member of the group.”

  “Yes, I was a researcher in High Sage Kranic’s cadre. Don’t give me that look.”

  Yaz winced and smoothed his expression. He hadn’t intended to judge, not after all the people he’d killed. It was
just hard to imagine his mother mixed up with a group that would kidnap an entire village and sell them into slavery.

  “Sorry,” Yaz said. “Were they the darkness you spoke about when you warned me about people outside the valley?”

  “They were certainly part of it. Though the Dark Sages have no monopoly on evil.”

  “What were you researching?” Silas asked.

  “The creation and enhancement of artificial life. Have you met Most High Black yet?”

  Yaz thought for a moment then shook his head.

  “He’s the leader of the Dark Sages. He has an artifact called the Black Ring. It is without question one of the most powerful items ever forged. The ring allows him to absorb, store, and redirect magical energy.”

  Silas let out a little hiss.

  “I see you understand the implications.” Mom stretched and cracked her neck. “No wizard or alchemist can touch him. Kranic knew that if he was to have any hope of overthrowing Lord Black, he’d need some sort of power that the Black Ring couldn’t absorb. After three years of searching we found it. A pool of inky black energy unlike anything we’d ever encountered. Unfortunately, no one could wield the power without instantly going mad. Their minds lacked the capacity to handle it.”

  Yaz’s stomach twisted as he considered what his mother was saying and what it implied. Despite his misgivings she didn’t stop her story.

  “Kranic came to the decision that if we couldn’t use the power, he would create someone capable of doing so. The experiments were among the most complex I’d ever attempted but after years of failures, we finally figured it out. There was only one problem. We couldn’t bring a child to full development in the tanks. As the only female researcher, I volunteered to have the protoform imbedded in my womb to grow it to completion.”

  Yaz staggered back until his spine touched the wall.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  He refused to believe it.

  Brigid stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. He didn’t blame her for being horrified. It sounded like he was some kind of lab rat that escaped its cage.