Dragon Tide Omnibus 2)

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  “Nasataa!” I called.

  The Bubblers holding his cage turned as one toward the empty doorway. Silly. What would that do? It would only delay us by a second as we chased them through it.

  But as the first pair of Bubblers in front of his cage ran into the doorway, I gasped. It was like they had disappeared. The moment they were through, they just weren’t there anymore.

  The cage wasn’t stopping. It was still going through on their momentum.

  And as I watched, Nasataa disappeared from sight.

  “No!” I shrieked.

  The last pair of Bubblers holding his cage on a pole disappeared after him.

  Olfijum wasn’t slowing and my brow furrowed in determined agreement as I realized what he was planning to do. We would go through the doorway, too.

  The Bubbler beside the doorway was screaming, his hands pounding wildly at the frame of the door while two other Bubblers jammed their rods against the frame, letting lightning loose on the doorway.

  When had all their rods started doing that? That was just like the rod of the one who had ambushed us!

  I didn’t have time to be shocked about that, either. We were almost there.

  Olfijum extended his feet as he dove into the doorway and I held my breath waiting to disappear.

  We slid through the frame as Olfijum tucked his wings at the last second, landing on the ground of the other side of the doorframe.

  I looked around as he skidded through the dust.

  There was no cage. No Nasataa. No bearers with poles.

  We were just on the other side of the empty doorframe, with the Bubblers and Manticores closing in.

  My cry of despair was joined with a snarl of frustration from Olfijum.

  We’d lost Nasataa. He’d disappeared into a place I didn’t know, and I had no way to follow him.

  Panic swept over me like a crashing wave.

  Chapter Eight

  I would have slumped in despair right then, but my eyes flickered immediately toward where Heron was being dragged across the sand. He looked confused as his captors pulled on his ropes.

  No wonder.

  We’d come out of nowhere. Maybe he didn’t even realize yet who we were.

  We could still save him.

  As if realizing that at the same moment I was, Olfijum spun, jumping back through the doorway. Our stunned enemies were shaking themselves, picking themselves up from the sand, regrouping. In a moment, they would reorganize again.

  I heard a howl and a snarl from across the hill. Where were Tharrac and Samrin? A cluster of Manticores over there were distracted by something but there was no sign of our allies.

  Overwhelmed. There are too many of them!

  I’d never heard Olfijum panicked before. I felt my heart speed up even more, my breath coming in quick gasps as my eyes tried to find them again. Had Samrin taken all the attention away from us as we tried to get Nasataa? Would he survive this?

  They’ve done something to Heron!

  That snapped me back to where we were. Olfijum leapt a final time landing right beside Heron. He was already flaming the Bubblers holding my best friend’s rope.

  Grab him! Help him! He’s not listening to me!

  I reached out over his back as he shuffled closer to Heron.

  “Heron!” I cried, reaching for him. He looked up at me with a stunned look, as if he didn’t know who I was. “Heron, come on!”

  A little closer!

  Olfijum shuffled again. I shoved the Dragon Staff into the strap of my saddle, wrapped my arms around a stunned Heron in the fiercest bear-hug I could and tugged.

  He was too heavy for me to lift, too heavy to tug very far, but I pulled as hard as I could and Olfijum shoved his body under him so that he was slung over the saddle in front of me.

  “Oh, Heron, I’m so glad you’re safe!” I gasped, fumbling for my belt knife to cut his hands free.

  Leave them.

  But he was way more help if he was untied! Maybe he could get seated correctly and help us fight.

  Get your staff ready.

  I bit my lip, fighting with myself. I should cut Heron free. I should listen to Olfijum. I should ...

  With a frustrated curse, I shoved the knife away and I grabbed the staff.

  Good. Focus. We’ll try to dive into that mass of Manticores to distract them so you can grab Samrin, too.

  His mental voice sounded raw, pained, almost panicked.

  Grab Samrin? Wouldn’t Tharrac fly him out?

  Concentrate! Use the staff to deflect any magic! Come on, Trouble Girl, this is on us now!

  He was already diving head-first toward them. I focused.

  One of the Manticores turned, snarling and sending a blast toward us, but it was easy to turn aside. I was so grateful to have Heron back and lying across Olfijum’s back that I easily turned the blast back on the Manticore.

  He crumpled to the ground.

  But as he crumpled, I caught a glance behind him, and my belly rolled.

  Don’t get sick. We don’t have time for that.

  Olfijum’s mental tone was harsh as he let loose a stream of fire at the closest Manticore.

  But he was already too late. I’d seen it in that glimpse. My belly flipped again, and my eyes shied away from what was behind the Manticores. I’d never gaze on Tharrac’s lovely silver scales again. Never see them gleam in the sun. Never be grateful for his steady devotion to Samrin.

  Despite their almost-human faces, they were eating him like sharks feeding on their prey – ripping off huge mouthfuls from his bones all at once, bite, bite, bite.

  I barely heard Samrin’s scream as Olfijum blasted fire at the nearest Manticore, but my heart screamed with him. What had we done? We should have thought this through better before we came!

  It was a good plan, Olfijum said in my mind, but I heard the ache in his voice, the horror and pain at seeing the older dragon being ripped apart. It was my pain. My terror.

  Another scream and this one ended in a gurgling sound. I felt the bile rising almost as fast as the sobs. The nearest Manticore had turned to fight us, but the others were still feasting on their victims.

  I raised the Dragon Staff, trying to help, but with no magic involved, there was nothing I could do.

  A sob ripped through me at the same time that Olfijum lunged. The Manticore’s jaws snapped just inches from my face and I froze, the scream stuck in my throat as his rancid breath washed over me. Olfijum twisted in the air, rising up like a shark himself, and crushing the Manticore’s throat in his deadly jaws.

  The Manticore yelped, went slack, and fell, blood pouring from his throat and mouth.

  But as he fell, I saw over his head the bloody ruin of the Silver dragon who had once been my friend – and half of the Dragon Rider who had generously crossed the border to help us to safety. His eyes were glazed over in death, looking up to the sky where he and his dragon should still be flying.

  Loss sawed through me, ripping my heart to pieces. My hands shook so hard I could barely hold Heron in place, and my vision was lost in a flood of tears.

  Too late, I thought dully. Too late.

  Too late Olfijum echoed.

  We needed to get out of here. Before Olfijum was next. I felt torn at the thought. I should be with Nasataa. I should find some way through the door.

  But there was no way right now. And there was no point getting the young Purple killed, too.

  No point in Trouble Girl dying, too.

  His thoughts seemed to reflect my own. He leapt up so quickly that the Manticore lunging at us passed under his feet. And then he was fighting hard to gain height, a strange sound ripping from his mouth as he flew.

  It wasn’t until we were high, high above the horror that I realized that ripping sound was his sobs, echoing my own.

  Chapter Nine

  We both cried for what felt like hours, though it was not. It was strange to realize that we were both perfectly aligned in what we felt and hoped and fea
red. Strange when we had been hostile to each other only hours ago.

  I regret that. I regret everything.

  So did I.

  “Heron?” I asked gently, finally composing myself enough to cut his bonds and help him to sit up on Olfijum’s back. “Heron?”

  There was no response. I turned his face to look at me and he startled as if he wasn’t expecting my touch.

  “Oh, Heron! I was so worried about you,” I said, wrapping him in a huge hug.

  He flinched and I froze before pulling carefully back. His expression was of complete confusion.

  What was he thinking? Why was he looking at me like that? Like I was a stranger?

  A fresh sob tore through Olfijum’s lips. Was he hurt?

  No more than you are.

  I wasn’t hurt ... except for my emotions about Heron. Which was silly. Of course he was stiff and cold. He was probably traumatized. Maybe they’d tortured him. He just needed space and love.

  “It will be okay, Heron,” I said gently. “You’re safe now. They can’t hurt you.”

  He’s not physically hurt.

  Then why was he acting so strangely?

  I frowned at the same time that Heron did.

  “Who are you?” he asked gently. “You’re very beautiful, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  I gasped.

  Gone. It’s all gone. They stole his memories.

  My heart was already trembling with fear, but those words shattered it, broke it to a thousand tiny pieces. I choked on a sob, reining it in with my last shreds of composure.

  We’ve lost him. Both of us have lost him.

  And yet again Olfijum and I were mourning our friend together – aligned in heartbreak.

  “I’m Seleska,” I said gently. “I’m your best friend.”

  And lover.

  But there was no point adding that, was there?

  “Atura is my best friend,” he said confidently.

  Oh, had I thought my heart had broken before? What a joke. The pain I felt now made that pain feel like a soft caress. Underneath us, Olfijum howled in pain, like a lone wolf in a dark forest. And I wished I could howl with him – howl until there was no Seleska anymore.

  “Are you tired?” I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle.

  “Very,” he said dully.

  “Then why don’t you sleep. Maybe everything will make more sense in the morning.”

  He nodded, but he looked confused as he leaned forward over Olfijum’s neck and fell asleep.

  What were we going to do?

  I let my thoughts flow to Olfijum but though he opened up his own grieving mind to me, neither of us had any idea what to do next.

  He flew through the night, too troubled to stop for a rest and I flew with him and together we mourned our friends, dead and lost. And I didn’t know which hurt worse – Samrin and Tharrac’s gruesome deaths or Heron’s death of personhood. No, I did know, but it felt terrible to admit – even to myself – that Heron’s loss of memory was worse than seeing Samrin and Tharrac ripped to bloody shreds. And yet ... it was.

  At least Samrin and Tharrac had died as heroes, as themselves. Heron’s self was gone forever.

  Chapter Ten

  Olfijum and I finally collapsed of exhaustion around noon the next day. It was hot here in the desert and the sun had been beating down on us for hours. We’d finished crying long before – both cried out and had sunk into a doleful misery that was only amplified because we shared it together.

  Somehow, in the middle of it all, we’d grown used to sharing our thoughts and feelings. It was just easier when they were exactly the same. Easier than bearing our loss alone. I thought that was odd. After all, Olfijum had only known Heron a short time. But his bond seemed to be so strong that he was nearly as broken-hearted as I was.

  A series of rocky bluffs decorated this part of the desert and at their base, Olfijum found a cave. He crawled into it and collapsed in the sand. I slid off his back, crawled up to his neck and hugged his big head against me.

  Too tired.

  I felt the same way.

  Together, we drifted off to sleep.

  I awoke to quiet voices speaking a tongue I didn’t know.

  They surrounded us, dressed in long vests and voluminous trousers, their faces worried. Their leader, a man with a noble face, was not much older than me, though his good looks were a bit daunting.

  “Good morning?” I said, questioningly, hoping someone could speak my language.

  “Early evening is more accurate,” the leader said with a small smile. His gorgeous dark eyes were like velvet in the golden light of sunset. “What has brought a Dominion Rider so far from the Dominion?”

  I swallowed. I was no Dominion Rider. Did I need to admit that? Probably best to keep it simple.

  “We were trying to save a friend. He was captured by enemies. They took him through an empty door, but when we tried to follow, we could not pass.”

  I’d thought it would be a simple enough explanation, but his look of startled fear said it was anything but. He barked a quick order to one of the others with him who sprinted away. What had I said that left him so troubled?

  “Do you ... do you know about those doors?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Doorways,” he acknowledged. “Yes, of course. They lead to the World of Legends – or to other places depending on who is using them and how they are tuned. Tell me, girl, what enemies stole your friend?”

  He was wary as he spoke, and I tried to stall him. Would he believe me if I told the truth?

  “I’m Seleska,” I said quietly. “Who are you, if I may ask?”

  He looked like he was forcing himself to be patient when he answered. His strong accent was mild and it rolled easily from his tongue.

  “I am Bataar Bayanen, son of Mynaar, son of Lataar, Leader of the Kav’ai people. I welcome you with the hospitality of the sand which is open to all who come in peace.”

  “Oh,” I said, looking around at the people around him. Those must be Kav’ai. Their faces were grim.

  Behind them, something moved. I gasped. “Is that a big bird? It has a saddle!”

  “An oosquer,” Bataar acknowledged. “The mounts of the Kav’ai.”

  My eyes grew big. They were like Kav’ai dragons, then.

  No. They are not. Only dragons are dragons or even like dragons.

  Touchy!

  Okay, maybe they weren’t like dragons, but they were pretty interesting all the same. They looked a little bedraggled and their grey feathers hung limp around their bodies, but their eyes were sharp and alive.

  “And now that we are formally introduced, you will answer my question.” Bataar’s words carried authority.

  “They were Manticores and Rock Eaters,” I said, my voice trembling as I spoke. I hadn’t intended that, but just mentioning them brought back flashbacks. Tharrac torn to shreds. Manticores feasting on his remains. Samrin hadn’t even looked human when we left him. Left him! I almost choked again on the thought. “They stole the dragonlet I vowed to protect. The Chosen One of the dragon lands. I must see him safely to the Haroc under the sea, but they are determined to get there first and destroy any hope we have of defeating their Manticore substitute.”

  “Bataar?” a quiet voice called from behind him.

  He turned, his whole face lighting up, and a girl a few years older than me slipped out from around the entrance of the cave. Her hair was a wild mass of curls and her huge eyes were golden, contrasting beautifully with her very dark skin. She looked small and delicate despite the fact that she was very obviously pregnant. She clasped her hands around her belly with a fond look on her face before she spoke again.

  “I have seen ... these visitors,” she said with a faraway look in her eye.

  “You wouldn’t be Zin, would you?” I asked warily.

  Bataar and the woman I was sure must be Zin both leveled their gazes at me. Bataar’s was wary, Zin’s delighted.

  “How did you know
?” she asked.

  Bataar gripped the handle of his sword like he might attack me at a moment’s notice.

  I pulled my book from my belt pouch as Bataar angled his body to protect Zin. What did he think I had in here that made him so protective of her? I opened the book and showed it to them.

  “Hubric wrote down some prophecies from Zin, the Seer of the Kav’ai.”

  Bataar and Zin exchanged a look that seemed like pride mixed with sorrow.

  “You swallowed a stone, didn’t you?” Zin asked, compassion in her eyes.

  “Yes,” I said. I wiped a tear away hastily. No need to show them how torn up I was about Hubric.

  “And then you swore to him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he gave you the book before he died.”

  “Did you really see all of that and prophesy it?” I asked, my eyes big at the thought.

  She nodded. At her side, Bataar relaxed a little.

  “That must be very hard,” I said gently. “Seeing things to come and not being able to do anything about it.”

  She nodded, her eyes deep with sadness. “And it must have been very hard for you to lose Hubric.”

  I nodded, too. It was like we were friends already.

  Bataar cleared his throat as if he were interrupting something private. “We should take our guests inside. Feed them, shelter them, give them rest.”

  Zin was already shaking her head. “I saw that a Purple dragon would land here with a girl who was determined to save a friend. With her. travels the memory-less. I saw that if she was found by us, we had to take her immediately to the Drazenloft. If we failed to act that same night – if there was any delay – then the Kav’ai will not survive.”

  Bataar paled before spinning to bark a series of orders at his men. They went running off in every direction before he finished.

  Zin smiled at him, cupping his face with her hand. “And the noble son of sand will lead them, will guide them to the home of fire. He will entrust to them the wings of his heart. And with those wings they will prevail. All this must be done before the third day, or the shadow will fall and night will reign.”