The Summoned Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 4)

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The Summoned Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 4) Page 22

by Dan Michaelson


  I glanced back, over to Asanley, while holding on to the weave and feeling her heat, her glowing energy. I realized how this looked. I had brought the Vard into the Academy. But then I realized something more. Thomas had known about this chamber and didn’t seem surprised by it.

  Could it be . . .

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Thomas.

  “How did you find this place?” Thomas demanded again.

  The power of the murtar surged. It took everything within me to resist turning around.

  “Thomas, I don’t know if you understand this kind of power. I’ve learned what it is, what it can do, what it—”

  Thomas took another step forward, heat flaring from him. “You brought one of them here? And you freed the Servant. Had you not, we would have been able to use him. We could have stopped the Vard. Your betrayal is the reason I’ve kept you away from our cycle.”

  Ours?

  It had been my cycle. I had been the one to bridge the dragons, and Thomas stole that from me.

  A thought came to me, and I wondered if I might be able to cycle outward toward Thomas and connect to him to help him understand what was going on. When I pushed the cycle of my dragons toward him, I immediately felt it withdraw.

  It wasn’t just one single dragon that withdrew though. The entire cycle withdrew their power. It was still there—I could feel it, but I could feel it protecting itself. As if the dragons knew there was something amiss with Thomas.

  I glanced over to Asanley. I refused to lose my grip on the power I was holding. I had to hold on to it tightly—I had to maintain that connection—but I recognized there was some other part of me, some other aspect of power, that I would have to use.

  I had the lessons I had learned within the Academy, but they were lessons Thomas knew. I wouldn’t be able to do anything that would surprise him here. I could only hope to reach for power he did not have.

  Affellah.

  Heat surged off Thomas, and he formed a complicated weave that he had never demonstrated for me, creating a tight ball of energy. I could see how the weave formed, and wondered if I might be able to pull it apart if it came down to it. At this point, I didn’t know what I would need to do, only that I could feel the way he was calling upon energy.

  “Don’t do this,” I said.

  Thomas turned, and I hurriedly erected a weave in front of me, adding as much power to it as I could, drawing upon the dragons, upon Affellah, then tightened it, expanding the weave outward. Asanley and I were on one side of the weave, which would give Thomas and I an opportunity to talk.

  “You should not have brought her here,” he said softly.

  I glanced over to Asanley, still feeling the heat and energy radiating off her, but it seemed she no longer had as much strength from Affellah as I had detected from her before. Could Thomas have done something to her?

  I didn’t think that was possible, but I didn’t know. Not really.

  “I just need to understand what you’re doing. Why are you using this power?”

  Thomas stepped directly up to the flaming weave I held in front of him.

  “Do you even know what this is?” I asked.

  “Do you?” Thomas asked.

  I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to see the energy, as I could still feel it. “Unfortunately, I have come to know it too well,” I said.

  I felt the way he attempted to push his own power upon my weave. He twisted his fingers, as if attempting to draw more power. I ignored it, focusing on the cycle, the dragons giving me strength for this.

  “This is the key to the kingdom,” he said softly. He looked up at me, no longer pushing upon the barrier the way he had been, and some part of him shifted. I wasn’t sure when that had taken place, and when the friendliness I had known from Thomas, however stern he might be, had faded, but it was gone. “Have you ever wondered how we have pushed back the Djarn? How we have picked our way through their forest, despite the overwhelming strength they possess?” He glanced over to Asanley. “How we have defeated those who have come for us?”

  The king and his ancestors brought this power here when they settled. This is how the kingdom rose.”

  The kingdom brought the murtar here?

  Which meant it was responsible for what happened to the Vard. It was what happened to the Djarn too. And I had helped the kingdom.

  I had made a mistake. I had been fighting for the wrong cause.

  My mind raced. I had thought the attacks were meant to destabilize the kingdom, but what if there was another reason? What if others had learned about this power and tried to access it?

  Or tried to stop the king.

  And I had prevented them.

  Could I have made a mistake all along?

  “We really should thank you, Ashan. You demonstrated how to link the dragons. You gave us what we have been missing. An opportunity. It’s the reason the king wanted them controlled. Fire, their kind of fire,” Thomas went on, nodding to Asanley, “has pushed back this power, but now that we have the dragons linked, the Vard won’t be able to withstand us.”

  I looked at Thomas with horror. This wasn’t the man I had come to know and work with. I didn’t even know who this person was. Maybe he had never been consumed by the murtar before.

  “How long have you known?” I asked.

  Thomas pushed on the barrier, and I could feel it shifting. He had strength—I always knew he did—but overpowering the barrier would take more than strength. Unfortunately, if he was connected to the murtar, then he might have more strength than I did.

  “After you went off with the Vard, the king demonstrated the truth to me.”

  There it is.

  “He wants you to return,” Thomas said. “You are talented. He has come to see that. You defended far more than you even knew.”

  I hadn’t defended anything. I was the reason the dragons were tainted. I was the reason those who connected to the murtar were able to push this power through the cycle. Linking the dragons allowed the murtar to flow through. But the Djarn had reasons to link them. It allowed them to be something greater. It protected them as well.

  Thomas stepped forward. “Release this barrier and we can take this woman into custody, and I’ll bring you before the king. He can explain everything. That way we won’t have to go to Berestal as he planned.”

  “What are you going to do in Berestal?” I asked, my voice low and angry.

  “Come with me and I’ll explain. The city has fallen too far under the sway of the Vard. We can bring the people—your people—back to the kingdom. We can save them. The king will explain it all to you.”

  Asanley flared with heat. She had to worry about what I would do. If I were in her place, wouldn’t I? I was an outsider to her, and she was an outsider here.

  But while I had gone to her lands for understanding, I had found far more.

  “I don’t need the king to explain anything to me. I understand well enough.”

  How much of an influence had the king had on the places where murtar had flowed? The king used the Vard as an excuse. Perhaps he did the same with the Djarn.

  Both had done something.

  The Djarn had used the power of the dragons, while the Vard could use the power of Affellah. They were related, even though they would deny that. Both had attempted to protect their lands and their own ways.

  “Release this and we can work together,” Thomas said.

  There was something seductive in the way he said it. I could feel the power flowing from him, pushing upon me—power that came from murtar.

  He had been corrupted, changed. I could feel it. But I had no idea how to stop him.

  I looked to Asanley. “I’m sorry I brought you here. There is no Servant to protect this place.”

  Thomas pushed on the barrier, and I recognized some difference within the way he was pressing, something to how he was shoving his way forward, a dark energy that threatened to overwhelm my protections.

  “Th
is was my journey,” she whispered.

  Her journey.

  What about my journey?

  My journey had brought me to the kingdom, to the capital, to understand the dragons in ways I had never even considered. My journey had led me toward understanding the power that existed in the world, a power I had never before fathomed. My journey had led me toward protecting the kingdom. And then it had taken me to the Vard, toward Affellah.

  As Thomas continued to push on my barrier, my mind raced. The dragons were out there. I could feel my new cycle, but there was something else I realized.

  There were more dragons out in the kingdom contaminated by murtar. How much did the Djarn know about it? If we could get their help . . .

  But they wouldn’t help. Not here. And the Vard wouldn’t either.

  We were trapped. I might have access to my cycle of dragons, and I might have access to Affellah, such as it was, but it wasn’t enough.

  I looked over to Asanley, who was glowing, but not with the same heat as the Servant. “We have to stop this, but I don’t know how,” I said.

  “You saw what was required to burn off the murtar in my land.”

  “I saw what was required to burn off the memory of it.”

  “We needed a Servant. That is why some embrace Affellah the way they do.”

  As she said it, I thought I understood. It was the same reason Oranash and Thalar had been destroyed. The murtar had been there. A Servant must have been there, channeling Affellah.

  But there was no Servant here.

  “You’ve been away too long, Ashan. It’s time you return. The king will welcome you back.” Thomas pressed his hand up against the weave.

  Energy was building from him, and I knew if I did nothing, Thomas would overpower the weave that had acted as a barrier. And then . . .

  Then he would force us to welcome the murtar.

  I pushed power out from me, trying to send out as much as I could, away toward the weave. I could feel the dragon cycle flowing, and it now included a sort of connected power—Affellah, or some way to overwhelm this.

  As I turned back to Thomas, something around me shifted. He quickly unraveled the weave, using power that was more significant than I had expected. It had to be the murtar. He strode toward me, and I could feel its strange, alien influence.

  I reacted and did the only thing I could think of doing.

  According to Asanley, there was only one way to stop the power of the murtar at this point. I had to burn it away. The cycle of dragons burned within me, and I added to that the power I felt from Affellah.

  I had to let that power fill me. I could feel it faintly, a trembling sort of energy, but it had begun to build steadily inside of me. I sensed it, and tracked it back toward the Vard lands, toward the lava I had detected, but there was a sense of it here too, and I couldn’t tell whether Affellah was in the kingdom, or somehow within me.

  Regardless, I needed to use that energy.

  I pushed it at Thomas and it burned. Flames shot from his fingers to target me.

  “You would attack me?” Thomas asked, rage contorting his face. “I helped you understand how to connect to the dragons, I helped you be a part of the kingdom, and all this time, I thought you could be one of our greatest. I welcomed you. I taught you.”

  I pushed outward, feeling that heat within me. “This is wrong. I can help you see that. I can show you the places it has destroyed.”

  Thomas glowered at me. “And where are they?” he demanded.

  As soon as I said it, I realized I couldn’t tell him or show him. Anything I did or said would only reinforce his beliefs. The only place I had seen the depths of the murtar’s destruction was in the Vard lands. All he would see would be power. The opportunity to defeat the Vard. And I recognized the hate burning in his eyes when he looked at Asanley.

  It was the same hatred I had seen from Asanley when she and I had first met.

  He had fought the Vard and suffered. He blamed them for destroying our cities and perpetuating the violence, much like the Vard blamed the people of the kingdom for the same reason. Only the Vard had not continued their attacks. Even the Djarn had not attacked, despite knowing the kingdom was responsible. All they had done was try to embed somebody within the king so they could understand the kingdom and its people.

  Thomas took another step toward me. I reacted, pushing power away from me. It slammed into Thomas—the power of the dragons and the power of Affellah—and he was thrown back against the wall. He got up, power flaring within him, and started toward me again.

  “Don’t,” I said.

  I could feel murtar swelling within him, consuming him. I noticed the rage in his eyes, the way it contorted his face.

  I reacted. I had no choice. I had to do what the Servant had instructed: open myself to Affellah. I had to let that power fill me.

  Since coming to this land, feeling the full energy of Affellah had proven difficult, but I still could feel it. And that energy continued to build before finally exploding. Power flowed, flooding into me.

  Thomas began to create a powerful weave that was more complicated than any I’d seen from any of my instructors. He imbued it with darkness. I had always marveled at his power and control, never questioned it, but now I noticed the touch of murtar upon it. The weave turned into something different.

  Thomas lashed out at me, sweeping his weave toward me.

  I grabbed for Asanley and heat poured out of her, burning through me, triggering something—the same heat and energy of Affellah I had felt while taking my journey, the same heat and energy I had known when I was trying to understand Affellah.

  I turned it toward Thomas, who was again thrown back into a wall. Undeterred, I continued to push power out from me.

  Affellah flowed into him. It was as if I had opened some connection, some channel, and I let it pour away from me. There was something more to it, though, then there had been before—the way the dragons helped direct it. It was not only that I had connected to Affellah, but it was how the dragons had pushed their influence outward, joining in the attack, knowing this was necessary.

  That power continued to flow. And Thomas collapsed.

  Affellah filled him, burning off the touch of the murtar.

  I sagged for a moment and looked back. The power of murtar was still here.

  “What do we do now?”

  Asanley watched me. “What did you do?”

  “I don’t know. I . . .” I wasn’t exactly sure how to describe what I had done. Only that I could feel the power as it had started to spill out from me. “I think I did what the Servant told me to do. I opened myself to Affellah. And I can still feel it.”

  “Use it,” she said, her voice a whisper.

  “What?”

  She looked toward the sense of the murtar. “You must use it.”

  “You said there needed to be a Servant.”

  “There does, or at least I thought there did. Perhaps the Servant can explain more. But you must use it. Call it.”

  How could I call it?

  But even as I said it, I could feel the circling and cycling energy of the dragons, the way power was pushing out from them, and how they were pouring it through me, giving me an opportunity to let more and more energy flow outward. I could feel it filling this space, targeting the power of the murtar.

  Affellah.

  It called to me.

  I welcomed that power, standing locked in place, opening myself.

  A deep steady rumbling began to build. I could feel it coming from someplace distant, someplace buried, someplace filled with power. The ground trembled, shaking, threatening to toss me off my feet.

  “I think the murtar is fighting what’s happening,” I said.

  “This is not the murtar. This is Affellah.” Her eyes were wide, reflecting a faint glowing that began to burn deep in the darkness, building and rising as heat started to spill into the room. “Only a Servant can summon Affellah.” She looked at me, a questi
on in her eyes.

  I tried not to think about what that meant. I had done it somehow. Heat continued to build as the ground continued to tremble, shaking violently.

  I was not in control here. Affellah was pouring forward and I could do nothing.

  I grabbed Asanley. “I think we have to go.”

  She barely moved. She looked shaken, as if she didn’t know what to do.

  I forced her forward, back the way we had come, stopping only long enough to grab Thomas before we started up the stairs as the heat, flames, and power of Affellah chased us.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  By the time we reached the top of stairs, there was activity within the Academy. I saw instructors storming along the halls, and I debated what to do with Thomas before dumping him unceremoniously on the main hallway. I worried about what would happen to him, but I couldn’t leave with him. He was no longer contaminated by murtar, but I wondered what he would remember when he came back around. Would he remember the influence, or would he only remember me attacking him?

  I couldn’t stay to find out.

  I had come back to the kingdom, to the Academy, and had saved it from the influence of murtar, but as far as I could tell, I might have been fighting on the wrong side all along—fighting on behalf of the one responsible for harming the Vard and the Djarn. Perhaps the king wanted to do the same thing in the Wilds.

  I had to understand the truth. I needed to understand Affellah. And then I would need to find a way to stop the king.

  Which meant I truly had betrayed the kingdom.

  After dumping Thomas, I checked to make sure he was still alive, that his heart was beating and he was breathing, and found he was.

  “We shouldn’t linger,” Asanley whispered.

  Distantly, I could still feel the trembling energy of Affellah as it tried to course toward me. It was overwhelming, a significant source of power, and if I opened myself to it again . . .

  It was a temptation I worried about accepting. I didn’t know what would happen if I did.

  I got to my feet. “I don’t like leaving him like this.”

  “You have done all you can for him.” She looked at me, holding my gaze, an uncertainty in her eyes. “You could stay. I will return to—”

 

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