Dragon Mage- Uprising

by Brian Ference

  “Did you have to pack so much?” Darek shot the bags a wry glance. Packed within were tent, blankets, assorted fruits, bread fresh from the ovens, dried beef strips, and a cask of wine.

  “Better to be prepared,” Bree said with a smile. “We don’t know the state of Agrippa’s larder—one of his dragons might have broken in and eaten everything.”

  A lone screech echoed down from the branches of an old dogwood tree creaking in the wind to the side of the pens. Seavenger, Agrippa’s sea eagle, spread his wings and soared over to land before Darek’s feet. Darek held out his hand to stroke the eagle’s head. Bree laughed and fed the bird a scrap of meat.

  The bird had fully recovered from his injuries and could often be seen flying high above the Rookery. The town medicus had done his work well. Now the eagle seemed to sense they would be returning to his old hunting ground and Darek blinked as the long, black talons gripped the earth, and one reached up to scratch its ear.

  “Faithful friend,” said Darek, stroking the fuzzy grey-brown feathers along the sleek wing. “It’s good to see you strong again. We could use a scout. Want to come?” Darek cocked his head in mimicry of the bird’s sharp head movements.

  Seavenger focused an intelligent eye on Darek, then spread his wings in agreement.

  Silver Eye returned with a full belly, squirming, fixing him with a sulking stare as Darek fitted her with a new, larger harness. Then they set off north over the interior of Swordfish Island. Dense hilly forests of the great sea firs carpeted the inland route. Bree pointed down to green meadows of spring flowers in full bloom. They passed the glades marking the few isolated hamlets of the Red Claw clans and their small houses of murlstone and gumwood. Cool, clear waters of sparkling lakes shimmered in the morning sun.

  In happy spirits once again, Silver Eye raised her long snout to the clouds and rumbled with a hint of excitement at having free rein over new territory. Leading the way, she soared under the clouds while Bree and Storm flew close at her side. Darek paused to admire the sight of the wind in Bree’s wavy hair, blowing the dark strands back like a rippling mane. Seavenger circled above them, patrolling in wide arcs and screeching in pleasure at the return to his domain.

  “Catch me, if you can!” Darek yelled. He spurred Silver Eye on to new speed. Bree, never one to pass up a challenge, vaulted after, with a flick of her fingers in the dragon rider hand signals that meant Watch out for my dragon’s tail.

  Darek let her outpace them for a moment to better admire her fine figure. Bree was as beautiful and fierce as the day they had first met on Manatee Island. He smiled, remembering the fool he had been trying to rush to her aid in what had merely been a training exercise.

  As he later discovered, Bree needed no one to save her. They had grown much closer since they first danced at the Dragon Day celebration. So were they a casual or formal couple? Darek frowned. He vowed to speak to her about it after they returned.

  The north coastline appeared, jigsawed with rocky coves and stray islands. The vast Dragon Sea spread to the north like a blue mantle, as vibrant and expansive as the noonday sky. In the distance he could just make out the hint of islands toward the horizon.

  They flew for a time longer, eventually approaching a stark island ringed in volcanic rock. The low cliffs, lined with the porous-gray stone, loomed in mystery, with a small patch of pale beach in the center. Stands of tall sea firs stuck out on their top like parakeet plumes. The twin towers of Agrippa’s stronghold forked up toward the sky. Valkyrie Island.

  Seavenger cried out a sudden warning. A dark shape swooped upon them, massive wings beating at the air. A hulking, charcoal-grey dragon lurched forward to greet them. A female, by the look of her shrunken face with high peaked ears But her greeting was less than cordial. The creature reared back, talons splayed and a snarl on her lips.

  Silver Eye launched forward, baring her teeth. Darek recognized the other dragon—Winguard, Agrippa’s loyal protector of his island realm. The dragon roared a challenge.

  We are friends. Darek sent the command in silent authority, along with other soothing thoughts. Peace. Calm down. The dragon relaxed and yielded to Silver Eye’s dominance. But Darek still tensed in disbelief. He had not expected such unruly behavior from dragons that had once fought at his side.

  Another roar sounded from below as a firebreather took to the air. The dragon shot straight up at them, in no less disobedient mood. Storm veered sideways in alarm.

  “Broodhorn, stay back!” Darek cried. “What’s gotten into you two?”

  Yet he knew the answer. With the death of Agrippa, the control over the dragons had waned and chaos now infected the link between human and dragon. Too long had he stayed away. Darek gave a silent curse. He must not let this happen again. Shaking his head, he spurred in to bunt the rebellious Broodhorn aside.

  After some gentle coaxing, Broodhorn retracted his claws, perhaps recognizing Agrippa’s faithful eagle. The two circled each other for a dubious moment taking playful nips at each other’s wings. Darek breathed a sigh of relief.

  They landed near the brow of a juniper covered hill, not far from where Agrippa kept his stronghold amidst the old ruins of Valkyrie.

  Bree vaulted off to stretch her stiff legs. “Where are the rest of the dragons?”

  The same question had burned in Darek’s mind. “Probably down sunning themselves on the beach.” He dismounted, unharnessing Silver Eye, then sent her and the other dragons fishing.

  Bree peered around the shrub vegetation. Her eyes followed Darek’s gaze to the tangle of rocks and meandering goat paths that comprised Valkyrie. “This place seems deserted.”

  Darek loosed a breath. “Valkryie has always been a lonely place. It’s an island as old as the seas themselves. Agrippa said the first magic of the clans was practiced here, by the ancient Diori. This island they called ‘Vyre’, the place of summoning.”

  Bree gave a visible shiver. “It does have the feel of ancient magic lingering about.”

  The top of the old black stone ruins poked over the brow of the hill. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

  Darek gestured for her to follow him.

  She grabbed his hand and cooed with excitement. “Let’s spend the night in the tower! You’re the Dragon Mage now, right?”

  Darek winced. Wait till she gets a look at Agrippa’s gloomy abode.

  Clearing his throat, he paused. “Hold up a moment.” On a hunch, he swung down the seaside path to the dragon caves. “Let’s go see to Agrippa’s dragons first. Many of the older dragons I left on the island after the battle of Cape Spear.”

  “Oh, alright.” Her eyes shone as she followed.

  “Agrippa never let anyone into his dragon grottos. They’re my responsibility now.”

  The trail, nothing more than a goat path, wandered between a few small trees as they approached the seaside. The aromatic scent of pine and fir filled the air; Bree bent to smell the many small blue-cupcake-like flowers. Cool air drifted from the seaside caves where the pounding sound of surf echoed from the entrance.

  Three dragons lounged on the sand before the dark opening, poking up their heads at their approach.

  “So few dragons,” grunted Bree with a frown. “I expected more. I count only eight.”

  “At least half gave their lives defending the harbor,” Darek said in a gloomy voice. Their bones still lie at the bottom of Cape Spear harbor.

  “I suspect the others have flown off, now that Agrippa is—” He didn’t finish that sentence.

  A huge black dragon came hurtling out of the nearest cave.

  Whalethorn.

  Darek and Bree froze.

  “Down!” he commanded, but the dragon continued to rush them. Bree shrieked as he pulled her out of the reach of the arching claws.

  Be still. We’re friends!

  The dragon roared, defiant of the command. The creature clawed at the ground, kicking up clumps of sand and pebbles, as though defending his territory. It drove forward, extendi
ng front claws to attack again.

  Darek summoned Silver Eye with a shrill mental command. Danger! We need help! He stood tall on his toes and raised his arms in a defensive V pattern, fingers curled together as Agrippa had instructed him. He closed his eyes, visualizing a larger teardrop of power. The space between his arms glowed blue and orange. As the dragon circled to strike, he deflected the blow with a protective prism and launched a jet of fire into the air. The dragon shrank back, venting a growl of surprise at the pulsing power.

  Whalethorn came blinking back to his senses. He curled up in a heap, wings folded back as he uttered a submissive howl. Silver Eye landed but ten feet away with Storm at her side. Their wings kicked up sand in a swirling vortex. Silver Eye, rearing up, bared her front claws and fangs in a display of power. Her four wings flapped in unison as she hovered in the air, daring any to challenge her. The disobedient dragon only retreated deeper into the cave.

  Darek hurried forward, arms raised should he need to disable the black dragon. Bree scrambled to his side, brandishing her sword, regarding Darek with new awe. Silver Eye and Storm advanced on Whalethorn, cornering him between the shrubs and the cave and cutting off any escape.

  Puzzled and dismayed, Darek approached on wary feet. “What’s gotten into you?” His heart panged, seeing the fear in the black dragon’s eyes. “I’m sorry, old fellow. You don’t remember me, do you? We fought together at Cape Spear.”

  The dragon wheezed out a plaintive howl and drooped its ears. Silver Eye loped forward to encircle the dragon’s neck with her teeth and Whalethorn allowed it, displaying his underbelly in submission.

  “What a mess,” Darek sighed, shaking his head. “It’s okay, Silver Eye. You can release him.” A streak of pride flamed in him, knowing his dragon would fight to the death for him. As would he for her. Let’s hope it never comes to that.

  Bree took a cautious step forward. “What’s wrong with Agrippa’s dragons, Darek?”

  “They’ve turned feral, Bree, away from humans so long with no amulets to control them. The ones at the Rookery—well, they’ve shown similar signs as well.”

  Bree’s eyes widened. “Maybe we should go back.”

  “No, I need to find out how to create new dragon amulets. Otherwise we’ll lose control of the dragons forever. Don’t worry. Jace can keep them in check. Look, there’s Meshoar and Wildfire.” He gestured a hand to the purple patched dragon who pawed at the sand. “Wildfire looks like a savage brute with her scarred face and missing fang, but she’s really a lamb when you get to know her.”

  “I bet.” Bree frowned. She moved closer to Storm, less trusting after Whalethorn’s attack. The two dragons only gathered around them in welcome, grunting and snorting.

  “Good to know they haven’t all gone wild. The last faithful wards of Valkyrie,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for my neglect. I’ll take better care next time.”

  The dragons flattened their ears in acknowledgment.

  “I know it may sound selfish, but I’ll summon you if the time comes—to fight. I’m sorry to have to drag you into these wasteful wars. Your old master would have wanted you to stay faithful to me. I pledge to look after you, as Agrippa would have done, if you’ll have me.”

  The bond between them strengthened and Darek straightened. His power of communication grew stronger, for the dragons’ jaws parted in slow recognition. Meshoar and Wildfire sniffed at Bree then shambled over to get a whiff of Storm’s and Silver Eye’s hides. Many scars still showed on their flanks from the wounds taken at Cape Spear.

  In a final token of recognition, the dragons lumbered forward to inhale Darek’s scent, their long red tongues flicking out and tickling his cheeks. Their thoughts reverberated clear as a bell in his mind.

  Darek touched each of them on their iridescent heads. “Thank you for your loyalty, friends. I’ll need it now more than ever.”

  Chapter 9.

  Solaricus

  Darek and Bree’s dragons soared along the seaside path, following Seavenger’s lead from high overhead. Passing the brow of a hill, the shallow valley spread out before them like an enchanted rock garden. Landing at the foot of a broken murlstone wall, they dismounted and gazed at the weathered gate thrust open and guarded by winged iron gargoyles on either side.

  They entered the courtyard and moved like puppet figures beyond a cluster of blue-gray slabs now overrun with weeds. At the center rose a rickety windmill, one of Agrippa’s now-abandoned innovations. Bree’s eyes rounded at its enormity and its unusual, grasshopper-like shape. Ahead, the old ruins towered high with stone arches, broken columns, and weathered bricks withstanding the ravages of time.

  An air of solemn grandeur permeated the place. An old rounded keep stood at the fringe of an ancient castle. The overgrown court showed a gallery of broken statues and stones large enough to overwhelm the eye. Darek remembered the last time he and Meira had sparred amongst these thistles and fallen masonry. Everything seemed empty now without the presence of the old man…all too quiet without the wizard’s deep rumbling laugh to echo off the cliffs. Darek could almost hear the sound of Agrippa’s walking stick clacking on the stones, followed by one of his wintery barbs.

  “That’s Agrippa’s tower there,” Darek called in a hoarse voice. The rounded tiers rose one on top of each other. Twin turrets forked up to the sky, one shorter than the other, as if hammered by ballistae or ancient weapons.

  “Let’s go settle in,” said Bree.

  “I wouldn’t feel right sleeping in Agrippa’s chambers, and the other tower has too many rats’ nests,” Darek murmured. “I suggest we sleep on the beach down by the dragon caves. It’s more comfortable down there.”

  Bree couldn’t hide her look of disappointment.

  “Well, let’s search his laboratory. It used to be his secret hideaway.” She brightened at that. Darek motioned to a shoulder-high mound of earth and stones. A wide and heavy gumwood door embedded in its side led underground.

  He gripped the iron ring and gave it a sharp tug. The door creaked open with a rush of stale air. “This is where Agrippa spent most of his time.”

  “Is it booby-trapped?” Bree asked with awe.

  “Don’t worry.” Focusing his power, he ignited a limb of deadwood and held it up with a grin. “Agrippa keyed all of the island’s defenses to my presence. I’ll light the sconces below. Come on, we’ve nothing to fear.”

  He stepped down the crooked stone steps, lighting the cressets along the wall as they descended. Bree followed with mincing steps, snatching a glance or two back at the dragons who looked on with curious wonder.

  At the bottom of the landing, the passage turned ninety degrees. They walked thirty feet down a passage and stood in a wide hall. Once well-maintained, it had grown thick with dust. “Agrippa’s laboratory,” Darek declared. He spoke a word and the torches on the colonnaded wall lit up, transforming the room from its eerie gloom.

  “What a creepy place to work,” Bree grumbled.

  Darek forced back a grimace. “Agrippa was a secretive sort. He never threw anything away. Let’s start by looking for things of value.”

  Lurking to the side loomed a huge engine, a device made of metal and wood with pulleys and crystals to generate power. The wizard had tried to explain to him how the strange boiler worked, but it still remained a mystery.

  “That was Agrippa’s final invention. A generator of Eel Light, he called it. Taps the wind power above from the windmill to make light. One day it’ll replace oil lamps and torches—or so the old man said.”

  Bree grunted, clearly doubtful of such a scheme. “I suppose this is all yours now?”

  “It seems so,” Darek murmured.

  “Lucky you.” She stared at the cobwebs and the fervid skitter of rodents in the shadowy corners had her shivering.

  Darek turned to consider the assortment of wands and tools hanging from nails on the wall. Heaps of magic curios and scrolls littered the tables. All had now passed to him according to final inst
ructions left with the Clutch Council. Darek felt a thrill at the privilege but overwhelmed with the responsibility.

  “Help me explore this place,” he said. “We need to gather as many amulets as we can. Also, find the instructions for forging new ones, and anything else that might be of use. He made a sweeping gesture of hand. “Better than having all this just sit around collecting dust.”

  She nodded. Taking slow steps, Bree poked around, but winced, afraid to touch anything. She nosed about like a cautious rodent.

  Darek scouted the perimeter of the chamber, feeling pangs of old memories prick his heart while Bree inspected talismans on the low tables and workbenches. She studied them with an inquisitive eye. “He must have been a genius,” she said, “a man ahead of his time.”

  “There’ll never be another like him,” Darek mumbled. Tapping at the wall near the floor, he began searching with increased fervor for trap doors and secret entrances to a lower level. Having no luck, he rummaged through dusty crates of supplies where all manner of gadgets, tools and raw materials were stored, many of which he could make no sense.

  Bree gasped in excitement. “Darek, come look at this.”

  She pointed to a lower section of the wall that seemed discolored and more uneven than the surrounding area, as if cut out and put in as an afterthought. Darek frowned, kicked it and it gave way.

  As he pushed the false section inward, a small rat ran out. Plugging his nose against the stink of rat droppings, he crawled through.

  It was a secret chamber all right: an extension of Agrippa’s underground laboratory. Mumbling with awe, he stumbled forward in the dark and lit a torch on the wall. The chamber opened up into a rounded alcove. Bookshelves cut into the walls contained dozens of volumes. Tacked to one of them a handwritten letter read: