The Dragon Empress: The Dragonspire Chronicles Book 6

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The Dragon Empress: The Dragonspire Chronicles Book 6 Page 12

by James E. Wisher


  “I’m so sorry, Yaz,” his mother said. “We had no idea there was an intelligence attached to the substance in the well. All we knew was that it was a source of power.”

  Yaz kissed her on the cheek. “It’s okay, Mom. The entity said that because you used such a small amount, I didn’t go insane, unlike that unfortunate young man back at the lab, which is nice. Anyway, after I escaped the black dragon, I ran into Moz. He found a journal that looks like it was written by Leonidas Black himself. Unfortunately, no one can read it.”

  They were all staring at him. “What?”

  “I think you might have left out a few details,” Silas said.

  “I’ll tell you on the way. Also, Mom, I offered your services as a translator. I figured if anyone could read the book, it was you.”

  “I’m happy to take a look, but my specialty is alchemy and biology not languages.”

  When Silas, Brigid, and his mother had climbed back into the sleigh Yaz said, “Hang on.”

  He flew over the sleigh and conjured a bubble of darkness around it.

  “I can’t see,” Silas said.

  “I can,” Yaz said. It surprised him that he could see perfectly through the inky darkness. For him it was like it existed as a faint, shadowy haze. “Everyone ready?”

  When they indicated they were, he willed them skyward. Despite the extra weight he found it took no more effort to fly nor did it slow him down. How much could he lift with this power? It would be an interesting experiment to find out.

  A little less than an hour of flying later, they reached Moz’s camp. The sun hung low in the sky. It would be dark in an hour or so. Talk about an eventful day.

  He dissolved the bubble and everyone got out of the sleigh. Moz and Callie emerged from the tent to meet them. Yaz made introductions and they went inside. A lamp had been lit and placed on the small camp table beside Leonidas’s book.

  “Is that it?” his mother asked.

  “Yeah, we found it in some kind of meeting room,” Callie said. “It was just sitting on the table.”

  “Wait.” His mother looked from Callie to Moz and back again. “Are you saying you entered the Dark Sage’s meeting hall and just found a journal written by Lord Black?”

  “Yes,” Moz said. “Though a woman named Southmore may have lent us a hand.”

  “You met High Sage Southmore? Well that explains who deactivated the wards protecting the council chamber. How she got her hands on the journal is another question.”

  “One that doesn’t matter at the moment,” Yaz said. “If the information inside is useful, who cares how they got it?”

  “Good point.” His mother took the book and opened it.

  Everyone crowded around for a look.

  His mother paged through a third of it before sighing. “I’m afraid I can’t read it.”

  “I can.” Everyone turned to stare at Silas. The wizard shrank a bit at the attention.

  “How?” Yaz asked.

  “When I was trying to bring Wicked back, I studied some rather dark and obscure texts. One of them was written in this language. It’s Infernal, the language used in Hell. Anything to do with diabolism and much of necromancy is performed in this tongue.”

  “Leonidas isn’t a wizard,” his mother said.

  “Perhaps not,” Silas said. “But even among wizards, those who can read Infernal are few and far between. Magic aside, if you wanted to keep your journal from being understood by someone who stumbled on it, Infernal would be the perfect language to use. I doubt there are more than a couple hundred people in the entire world that can read it.”

  “How did you learn it?” Brigid asked.

  Silas winced. “Understand, I was desperate to bring Wicked back. I may have summoned an imp and tortured it for information. I forced the creature to teach me how to read one of the books of necromancy in my master’s library. The important thing is, I can read that book for you.”

  Ever practical, his mother handed the journal to Silas.

  “One moment,” Yaz said. “Can I see that?”

  Silas handed the book to him and Yaz quickly paged through it. Much like the information he stole from the Slavers Guild, he didn’t bother even trying to understand it, he just committed images of the pages to memory. When he finished he returned the journal to Silas.

  “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to make a copy.” Yaz tapped the side of his head. “Just in case.”

  The wizard grinned. “Do you want me to read the whole thing, or find something specific?”

  “We need to know how to deactivate the outer towers,” Yaz said. “Once I know how, I can fly to all four in a day, shut them down, and then we’ll have access to the main tower.”

  “Got it. I’m not exactly fluent in Infernal so this might take a while. Wicked, light.” The little dragon skull started to glow. Silas took a step toward the camp chair.

  Before he could sit, the tent flap opened in a gust of wind and Tonia entered. “The black dragon is coming. We need to move.”

  Chapter 16

  Yaz had barely scrambled out of the tent when the black dragon came roaring out of the sky. A line of black fire, barely visible in the dim evening, scoured a path through camp. A pair of tents went up in flames, but the lack of screams indicated no one was harmed. Either that or they were instantly killed. He preferred to think the former.

  “Can anyone see it?” Moz shouted.

  “It’s to the west, banking for another run,” Tonia said.

  Gods damn it! If Yaz could see through his own darkness, why couldn’t he see at night?

  As soon as he thought it, the night seemed to brighten and the dragon appeared, soaring across the night sky. It seemed he needed to experiment more with his abilities.

  “Everyone gather around!” Yaz shouted.

  “If we bunch up, it’ll kill us all in one pass,” Moz said.

  Brigid, Silas, and his mother ran right over to him. Callie and Moz ran in opposite directions, seeming determined to dodge the dragon’s attacks on their own. If that’s what they wanted, he was in no position to stop them.

  “What now?” Brigid asked.

  “Now we wait.” Yaz wrapped them in a sphere of darkness and watched as the dragon completed its bank. It lined up with Moz’s tent and breathed fire again. The blaze missed them by twenty yards. “As I thought. The dragon won’t attack if it can’t see us.”

  “How sure were you?” Brigid asked.

  “It stopped attacking when it lost sight of me in the city, so I was reasonably sure. The darkness already survived a direct hit from the dragon’s fire once, so even if it hit us in passing, the danger seemed manageable.”

  “What’s happening out there?” his mother asked.

  “The tents are going up in flames. People are running everywhere, though none appear hurt. Mostly it looks like they’re trying to avoid the dragon.” Yaz turned his gaze skyward. “Speaking of which, she’s taking off back toward the city.”

  Yaz lowered the barrier. Their camp was a silent ruin. Only one tent remained standing and it smoldered at the edge. The people appeared okay at least.

  As if to mock him, a scream rang out.

  “You guys stay here.” Yaz conjured a new bubble around his mother and friends. That should keep them safe from anything short of the dragon returning.

  He sprinted toward the scream, conjuring dark armor as he ran. A woman in dragonscale armor lay in a pool of blood, her throat cut so deep her head was barely attached. Who could have snuck up on one of the rangers?

  Maybe a view from higher up would show him what he sought. He rose a couple hundred yards into the sky and quickly spotted the remaining bards and rangers. They’d gathered together in a circle so they could see anyone that might approach. The rangers made up the outer perimeter while the bards waited on the interior for a chance to use their magic. Yaz didn’t know how many people were in the camp, but he suspected that was all of them.

  “I hoped I might run into you,
” a rich, aristocratic voice said.

  Yaz spun and found himself face-to-face with a tall, noble-looking man in black robes. He had to be the leader of the Dark Sages, Leonidas Black. The ring on his right hand glowed red.

  “You attacked my tower and evaded my dragon. Meaningless efforts, but impressive for all that. I don’t know where you came from and I don’t care. Anyone that dares interfere with my plans will suffer the same fate: death.”

  Leonidas pointed and a crimson ray shot out.

  Yaz dove under it and kept flying just ahead of the beam. He didn’t know what it might do if it hit home and unlike Wrath, Yaz had no desire to find out if his new strength was enough to block it. Better to evade as long as possible.

  That turned out to be about three seconds. When the ray vanished, he found himself nearly back where he started. The arrogant bastard nodded in apparent appreciation.

  “You’re quick at the very least. Why don’t we try something else?”

  Yaz liked the sound of that. He hurled a blade of darkness at Leonidas’s sneering face.

  When the wizard hurled a blade of dark magic at him, Leonidas raised a casual hand and commanded his ring to absorb it. An unnecessary step but one that tended to dishearten his opponents.

  Nothing happened.

  He barely conjured a shield in time to deflect the attack. It felt like a betrayal from his most trusted friend.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to worry.

  A second blast followed the first. Leonidas flew straight up out of the way.

  His opponent took after him, sending an incessant barrage of dark blasts his way. Some missed and others were deflected by his shield, but none were absorbed. And without a new source of magical power, his ring would soon be drained from maintaining such a powerful shield.

  And he didn’t dare weaken it. He could feel the power in the blasts directed against him. If his shield lost even a fraction of its strength, one of those attacks would break through and kill him instantly.

  Where the hell did this person, assuming it was a person and not some demon conjured from the blackest pits of hell, come from? With his network of informants, Leonidas should have heard something about an individual this strong.

  Another blast, this one missing by inches, forced him to focus. It didn’t matter where he came from, all that mattered was escaping. The tower’s defenses were clearly enough to keep him out. Leonidas needed to grab Shade and get back there. Eventually a dragon would catch up to him and finish the job.

  Yes, that was the way. Let the dragons deal with this dark wizard. But first he needed a distraction so he could escape. As he flew a random course, he spotted the rest of the Rend team gathered in a defensive circle. That was perfect.

  Leonidas conjured a ball of crimson energy. “You can stop me or save them. Chose!”

  He hurled the sphere at the group and flew to collect Shade. No more dark bolts pursued him. Leonidas spotted his assassin in a standoff with a dark-skinned ranger. Much as he’d have liked to blast the man, his ring was nearly out of magic. Getting them both back to the tower would be a near thing. He didn’t dare waste even a drop of precious magic.

  An effort of will snatched Shade up and they flew together toward the tower.

  “What’s going on, Boss?”

  “Something I wouldn’t have dreamed possible. I’ve met my match, Shade, a wizard whose magic I can’t absorb. I didn’t think there was anything the Black Ring couldn’t overcome, but I was wrong. Is he coming?”

  Leonidas hated what he heard in his own voice. It was that subtle quaver he’d heard in so many others’ but never his, at least not in a long time. It was fear.

  “It’s all clear behind us, Boss.”

  Leonidas blew out a sigh. Maybe his opponent had used up his strength as well.

  He could always hope.

  Moz found the body of his ranger and growled deep in the back of his throat. He’d lost enough people gods damn it. He didn’t intend to lose any more. The burning remains of the tents provided just enough light to see a faint set of tracks. Whoever left them was good. A tracker with less experience than Moz probably wouldn’t have noticed them. He glanced up but there was no sign of the dragon. Probably didn’t want to accidentally hit whoever was hunting his people.

  He drew his swords and set out after the killer. At least it wasn’t a wizard. Moz hated dealing with magic. It cheated against the laws of nature. He preferred a straight-up fight, steel against steel and may the better warrior win.

  His night vision had always been good and about twenty yards from the body Moz spotted a figure moving in the dark. Whoever it was didn’t make a sound. His target shifted a fraction and light glinted off the edge of a dagger.

  Moz doubted he could win a battle of stealth, so he charged, one sword low and the other high.

  His opponent spun away from a high slash, blocked a low thrust, and countered with a right hook to Moz’s temple.

  Moz leaned back then sprang forward.

  The killer cartwheeled right and raised both daggers, their hilts held in reverse grips. The light was too dim to get a good look, but whoever he was, he knew his way around a blade.

  They circled warily, each clearly aware of the other’s skill. It was a battle of patience now. Whoever made the first mistake would die. At least if the killer was here, the rest of Moz’s team was safe. Unless he had friends.

  “You’re good,” the killer said. “I see why Rondo’s so afraid of you. Of course, Rondo’s afraid of his own shadow so I had my doubts about whether he was exaggerating or not.”

  Moz just stared back, grim and silent.

  “We saw you prowling around in the Rend border fort. I’m glad you went for the boss’s distraction. If I’d have had to fight you for the girl, our escape might have been more difficult.”

  Moz tightened his grip on his swords then relaxed again. The assassin was trying to goad him into making that crucial mistake. No way was Moz going to fall for such a simple trick. He could wait as long as he had to.

  “Are you just waiting for me to die of old age?” the assassin asked. “I’m afraid that’s a tactic liable to work in my favor. You’re not getting any younger you know. I’m surprised an old man like you would come out on a mission this dangerous. Doesn’t Rend allow its rangers to retire?”

  “You talk a lot for a fighter.”

  “So I’ve been told.” The assassin shifted but when he tried to lift his foot it didn’t move. “What the…?”

  Moz lunged in, making a quick pair of thrusts that were met by equally quick counters. His opponent appeared to be stuck to the ground. Albert must have spotted the fight and come to help. While Moz might prefer a fair fight, he also wasn’t arrogant enough to turn down help against such a skilled foe.

  His opponent twisted to keep an eye on him but couldn’t do much more. Just as Moz thought that, the assassin whipped his hand back and hurled a dagger at him.

  Moz deflected the blade easily. Time to end this.

  Moz readied his swords for a final strike.

  A crimson aura appeared around the assassin. Before Moz could move, he flew up into the sky and was gone. Muttering curses under his breath, Moz sheathed his sword. The battle was over for now, but he didn’t believe for a moment the war was won.

  It was a near thing, but Yaz managed to shield the gathered bards and rangers from Leonidas Black’s energy blast. No one was hurt, but when he turned back, his opponent had fled the field. Happy as he was to save a dozen innocent people, deep inside he wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to let them die and take out the leader of the Dark Sages. Did he save twelve people only to doom thousands? He couldn’t say but hoped not.

  With the immediate threat eliminated, Yaz flew back to the dark dome and banished it. Inside, everyone was gathered around Silas who was reading the journal.

  He looked up when Yaz landed. “I know how to shut down the towers.”

  Yaz grinned. “How?”
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  “Basically, you draw the enchanted sigil in reverse. You’ll see it glowing on the floor when you enter, just focus your will and trace it backwards.”

  “Okay, but how do I know which end to start at?” Yaz asked.

  Silas frowned. “It doesn’t say. I guess you just pick one end and if it doesn’t work, try the other.”

  “Seriously? If one end doesn’t work, try the other?”

  Silas shrugged. “What can I tell you? Between all the ego-driven ranting, there wasn’t a ton of practical information.”

  “Hopefully it’ll be enough.”

  “Yaz.”

  He turned to find Moz and Callie approaching.

  “Thanks for saving us,” Callie said. “When I saw the crimson blast coming, I feared we were all dead.”

  “I’m glad I could help,” Yaz said, making sure to give no indication that he’d considered letting them all die. “Silas figured out how to deactivate the outer towers. For what it’s worth, the dragon doesn’t seem capable of attacking someone it can’t see. If you want to rebuild your camp, that’s something to keep in mind.”

  “I don’t think we’ll bother,” Moz said. “One way or the other, this is going to be finished soon.”

  “Agreed.” Yaz yawned so wide his jaw cracked. “But not tonight. If I don’t get some sleep, I’m going to collapse.”

  Chapter 17

  Rondo stood beside Polymus outside the dragonspire. Lord Black and the others had flown out a few minutes ago to deal with the groups threatening their work. On the one hand, he was glad not to have to go out and fight, but on the other he was stuck keeping an eye on an immortal of dubious loyalty.

  So far, nothing had happened. The glow from the energy flowing into the spire provided plenty of light to see the immediate area and the wards protecting the safe zone kept any of the serpents guarding the ruins from approaching. He had nothing to complain about which was an unusual thing for him.

  Rondo flicked a glance at his fellow guard. Polymus stared southwest as if he could see Shade and Lord Black where they hunted bards and rangers. Maybe he could, Rondo had no idea what the man had done to alter his abilities over his many years of life.

 

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